Page 1 of Strike A Chord

Chapter One

Josh

“Son of a mother fucking bitch!” My boot hit the front of the amp and left a big ass dent. No clue what I slipped on, though it was likely my own sweat. Fucking nerves. I looked like I’d run five miles the way it dripped off me. Great, something else I couldn’t afford to replace.

Could my life get any worse?

“Whoa, dude, it can’t be all that bad.” Marv? Merv? Melvin? Something with a fucking M said. I was shit with names and was lucky to have even found this audition. My former manager, and I use the word former loosely, was sent to prison shortly after I signed with him and left me to figure shit out on my own. Nicholas Shane was arrested for dirty dealings that included numerous offshore accounts, all of which were seized by the Feds. If I wasn’t so fucking desperate for a new gig, I would still be at the bar drinking. But noooo, instead my dumbass followed through with the already scheduled audition even though I had no idea how I’d get paid even if I got the damn job. Wasn’t that all handled though one’s management team?

Failure was inevitable.

When would life stop fucking me without lube?

I swore to whatever deity there was that this was fucking karma and all over a piece of ass I never even got to come inside of.

Had I not gotten greedy and fucked up my last job as Ryder Hampton, the lead guitarist for Maiden Voyage’s backup guitarist and sound tech, I would still be living the life. Now in the aftermath of sleeping with Nicholas’s son, Lucas, who was at the time of said incident Joey Hayes, lead singer for Social Sinners’ boyfriend, I was well and truly fucked. And not in a good way.

What a fucking mess I made of my life and nearly a decade later, I still paid for it and due to that I was broke as fuck.

Have I used enough fucks to accentuate the shittastic storm I currently waded through?

Now, here I was, auditioning for a new band and a gig I surely just lost out on with the attempted aerial maneuver that ended with my foot somewhere it shouldn’t have been. I glanced back at the amp, not my amp mind you. My eyes landed right on the dent where my boot made contact. I shook my head and unplugged, knowing full well this audition was over. “Um, I’ll pay for that.” How, I had no fucking idea but the way these guys glared at me warned I was on the verge of a royal ass beating.

And not the good kind that came with a happy ending.

One on one, I may have had a chance but three on one, nope. There was no way I wasn’t going home bloodied and bruised. To make matters worse, I hadn’t struck a single chord to prove my worth as a guitarist.

“Damn straight you will.” Of course, that growl came from the scariest fucker in the band. The dude towered over me by at least a foot, not that I was the tallest at five foot ten, but still.

“Wait.” The glare directly focused on me shifted as the guy nearest leaned forward and the two remaining sets of eyes moved to him. The wicked gleam in his said I wasn’t gonna like what he was about to say. “I know who you are.” The other two stared blankly at him. “Play ‘Her Embrace.’”

Fuck. Me.

I ran a rough hand over my face and wondered when I let my hair get so out of control. Irrelevant at this point but the one thing I’d hoped to not disclose until I had a fully signed and executed contract in hand was who I used to be. The life I selfishly fucked up. Without a word, I plugged back in, double-checked my tuning, and broke into the opening for the song I swore to never play in front of others again. As my fingers effortlessly moved over each note, it wiped the scowls clean off their faces. They didn’t stop me as I flawlessly completed the five-plus-minute song that Ryder Hampton wrote about the only woman he loved, his beloved guitar, and waited for them to laugh and tell me to get the fuck out as so many others had done during past auditions. Humiliation was all they wanted so if or when they ran into the guys from Maiden and Social, they could diss me. When all was said and done, I packed up my cords but before I tucked my baby back into her case, the one who’d asked me to play crossed the room toward me .

“I’m Jason, by the way. Lead singer for the band formerly known as Playing With Fire. We’ve decided to rebrand as soon as we’re whole again.” Jason and I shook hands as the other two neared.

“Josh Gray.” They knew of me but never addressed me by name and I’d only signed up for the audition under my first name. Like I was fucking Prince or Cher. Right, like my sad ass would ever achieve such recognition. I’d avoided giving my last name whenever possible. I decided to give it to them so they could get the inevitable Google search out of the way. After that, I’d likely be shown the door.

I was either about to meet my new band or get my ass kicked.

“Marley, I play bass.” He gave me a two-finger salute. Thank fuck it wasn’t just one.

“Nigel. Drums,” the huge guy that said I’d be paying for the amp replied as he stood behind Jason and Marley, arms crossed, clearly still not feeling me, and I didn’t blame him. My rep was shit and kicking the amp, even accidentally, only made it worse. The dude was like Glen Danzig on steroids. Think Viking style and height with a huge blondish mane to match. Massive arms completely sleeved out with a total fuck the world attitude.

“So, um, who do I owe a new amp to?”

“He’ll do.” Nigel nodded and returned to his seat.

“Well,” Jason began, “seems you passed the Nigel test, so I guess you’re in, but bring your own fucking amps to destroy next time.”

“Understood.” As I finished packing up, they got into a heated discussion over renaming the group. Not sure why they decided to rebrand but, whatever. I was here to play and for the paycheck. They could call us the Lame Ass Ducks for all I cared. At this point, I’d nearly run out of things to sell to make rent and I’d play naked if that’s what it took.

“Dude!” Marley shouted and threw his hands in the air. “This is fucking chaotic.”

“A giant chaotic abyss is what it is,” I mumbled to myself. No beginning, no middle, and no end. An abyss. Just like their conversation. Was this what I had to look forward to? Who was I kidding, I’d suck a raunchy old fucker dry for a god damned check.

“That’s it.”

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