Read Online Torn - Part 1: The Torn Series by Ellen Callahan - Free Book Online
Authors: Ellen Callahan
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"We're signed up!" Robin announced when I joined them in the basement of her building in Brooklyn. They could only afford the real rehearsal space sporadically, and most of the time had to settle for practicing in the empty, unfinished basement until the neighbors complained.
"Signed up for what?" It was two days later and I was still all abuzz with energy and excitement over my night with Mallet. I’d shaken off the fact that he didn’t get my contact information. I hadn’t asked for his either, to be fair, and we would be seeing each other again when the girls and I played our next show.
And I knew he wanted to keep things casual. I did, too. So I decided to at least tell myself that all was cool and all was well.
"Battle of the Bands!" she squealed. She dropped her cymbal case with a crash for emphasis. "It's sponsored by a bunch of bars right around here." Great. Brooklyn . Not that I didn't love Robin's trendy neighborhood. Hell, I was jealous. But weekend travel between the boroughs could be torture.
"They saw our video?" Jen asked.
"Yup. Sent a guy to watch our show last weekend, too. Had to check out the new bass player." She winked at me.
"What is it, like a contest?" I asked.
"Yeah. Winners get money, free rehearsal space for a year. It's a pretty big deal." Robin was positively bouncing. "Let me get the rest of my drums and we'll start talking setlist." She could only really practice on her electronic drums. A real rehearsal space would provide a full kit for her to use, so I could understand her excitement.
"So," Jen said, turning to me with a wicked grin. Her guitar was plugged into an amp that looked older than I was, and she sat cross-legged on a metal folding chair. "You didn't text me any more the other night. What happened?"
I pulled over a dusty abandoned stool to sit on. "I, well..."
"Did you fuck him?"
"Jen!"
The purple-haired girl leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. "C'mon, dish!"
"We had fun," I shrugged. "We had breakfast. I haven't heard from him since."
"Girl, you don't want to hear from him." She wagged her finger in warning. "Surly's told me some stories and I’ve known him for a long time. He's not a relationship guy." She giggled. "He doesn't leave his girls unsatisfied, though."
I blinked. "Wait, have you...?"
Jen cackled. "He's not my type."
"Has Robin?!" I nearly shrieked the question. Not that it mattered, it wasn't like I was or would be dating him. But still, unreasonable jealousy welled in my chest.
"Naw, Robin's a total prude." Somehow that was even more surprising.
When Robin returned, I finally made myself tuck my thoughts about Mallet away and focus on the band. We looked over our current repertoire of songs and discussed which would be best for the competition. It was judged by a panel, not the audience, so we thought more technically difficult songs might be better choices over bigger crowd-pleasers.
"We need more current stuff," Robin said. "Just one or two really new songs. These are all good but we want to look like we're keeping up with what's newer and popular. "
"Why not write a song of our own?" I asked shyly. I hadn't contributed very much to the discussion. It was their band and they knew what they were doing. But writing and performing my own tracks was a longtime dream of mine.
"That's not what we do," Jen said with a dismissive wave, not even looking up from the notes scattered before her.
Robin at least gave me a sympathetic look. "No can do, Riley," she said. "We're classified as a cover band. It wouldn't be allowed."
So much for that bright idea.
○●○●○●○●○
I spent the rest of our practice daydreaming about Mallet while they worked on creating a punk version of a song by some band called St. Vincent. I wasn't familiar with them, myself so I just plucked out the bass line as instructed and wondered what Mallet was doing right then. Some odd job to make rent?
○●○●○●○●○
"We're signed up!" Robin announced when I joined them in the basement of her building in Brooklyn. They could only afford the real rehearsal space sporadically, and most of the time had to settle for practicing in the empty, unfinished basement until the neighbors complained.
"Signed up for what?" It was two days later and I was still all abuzz with energy and excitement over my night with Mallet. I’d shaken off the fact that he didn’t get my contact information. I hadn’t asked for his either, to be fair, and we would be seeing each other again when the girls and I played our next show.
And I knew he wanted to keep things casual. I did, too. So I decided to at least tell myself that all was cool and all was well.
"Battle of the Bands!" she squealed. She dropped her cymbal case with a crash for emphasis. "It's sponsored by a bunch of bars right around here." Great. Brooklyn . Not that I didn't love Robin's trendy neighborhood. Hell, I was jealous. But weekend travel between the boroughs could be torture.
"They saw our video?" Jen asked.
"Yup. Sent a guy to watch our show last weekend, too. Had to check out the new bass player." She winked at me.
"What is it, like a contest?" I asked.
"Yeah. Winners get money, free rehearsal space for a year. It's a pretty big deal." Robin was positively bouncing. "Let me get the rest of my drums and we'll start talking setlist." She could only really practice on her electronic drums. A real rehearsal space would provide a full kit for her to use, so I could understand her excitement.
"So," Jen said, turning to me with a wicked grin. Her guitar was plugged into an amp that looked older than I was, and she sat cross-legged on a metal folding chair. "You didn't text me any more the other night. What happened?"
I pulled over a dusty abandoned stool to sit on. "I, well..."
"Did you fuck him?"
"Jen!"
The purple-haired girl leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. "C'mon, dish!"
"We had fun," I shrugged. "We had breakfast. I haven't heard from him since."
"Girl, you don't want to hear from him." She wagged her finger in warning. "Surly's told me some stories and I’ve known him for a long time. He's not a relationship guy." She giggled. "He doesn't leave his girls unsatisfied, though."
I blinked. "Wait, have you...?"
Jen cackled. "He's not my type."
"Has Robin?!" I nearly shrieked the question. Not that it mattered, it wasn't like I was or would be dating him. But still, unreasonable jealousy welled in my chest.
"Naw, Robin's a total prude." Somehow that was even more surprising.
When Robin returned, I finally made myself tuck my thoughts about Mallet away and focus on the band. We looked over our current repertoire of songs and discussed which would be best for the competition. It was judged by a panel, not the audience, so we thought more technically difficult songs might be better choices over bigger crowd-pleasers.
"We need more current stuff," Robin said. "Just one or two really new songs. These are all good but we want to look like we're keeping up with what's newer and popular. "
"Why not write a song of our own?" I asked shyly. I hadn't contributed very much to the discussion. It was their band and they knew what they were doing. But writing and performing my own tracks was a longtime dream of mine.
"That's not what we do," Jen said with a dismissive wave, not even looking up from the notes scattered before her.
Robin at least gave me a sympathetic look. "No can do, Riley," she said. "We're classified as a cover band. It wouldn't be allowed."
So much for that bright idea.
○●○●○●○●○
I spent the rest of our practice daydreaming about Mallet while they worked on creating a punk version of a song by some band called St. Vincent. I wasn't familiar with them, myself so I just plucked out the bass line as instructed and wondered what Mallet was doing right then. Some odd job to make rent?
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