Page 2 of Mayhem

I was bored.

Chaos Fuel will be my first project with Blackmore, and in my research of the current state of their PR, it’s going to be a complete trial by fire. They’ve fired every manager they’ve had except the current one (so far). They can’t keep a bass player to save their lives. Brad Chambers, the singer, is known to be a playboy, though that’s slowed down a little bit the last few years. Emmett Cavenaugh, the drummer, is a horrible prankster that nobody wants to work with. And Stefan Karlsson, their guitarist, parties way too much.

Typical rockstars.

Brad is the one that stands out for me, and not just because he’s the incredibly hot lead singer with a voice of an angel who smokes menthols; He’s a dad. He has an eight-year-old daughter, Charlotte, he shares with an ex who is married to the bass player of Indigo King, another Blackmore Records band.

While Chaos Fuel may be typical rockstars, with typical bad boy reputations – full of too much partying, hot lingerie models, and every other excess imaginable - fixing their image won’t be so easy. The press seems to always want to find the flaws, and never look at the good stuff. So, researching anything good about the band is almost impossible. Outside of Blackmore’s own press releases, there isn’t a lot to work with. Everything positive comes from the fans themselves.

That’s got to be my angle - the connection between the band and the fans. But to do that, I’m going to need to see them in action. And that means I need to meet them. Soon.

Eliza told me that the band will be holding auditions for a new bass player next week, so that’s my opportunity to get up close and personal and get an idea of what I’m working with. I won’t know how to approach any of this if I don’t know them.

Chaos Fuel, here I come.

3

WHAT A WONDERFUL WORLD

BRAD

“But Jude said I could,” my eight-year-old daughter, Charlie says, opening the fridge in my apartment, looking for a soda. Something I purposely don’t have for a very good reason. Charlotte on concentrated sugar isn’t something anyone wants to deal with.

“Well, that’s awesome for him,” I say, not sure if I don’t believe Jude would say that just to get at me. He’s married to my ex, and Charlotte’s mother, Ren, and we haven’t always seen eye-to-eye on things. We play it cool for Charlie’s sake, though.

They’re both off to London for six weeks with their youngest child – son August, since Indigo King are judges for some TV rock band talent show that I’ve never heard of, and Charlie didn’t want to go. So, I get to spend some quality time with my girl. I was over the moon when she said she wanted to hang with me instead of taking the trip overseas.

But now I need to entertain an eight-year-old little girl.

We have gigs still on the schedule in a few weeks, but they’re up in the air without us having a permanent bass player in place. The upcoming auditions are even more pressing now than before Eliza’s lecture, with those dates looming.

“You don’t have any soda,” Charlie announces, obviously disappointed, crossing her arms over her chest, her long red curls just like her mother’s bounce as she huffs.

“I never said I did.”

“But Jude said I could have some,” She repeats. Her lower lip is now making a bold appearance in her growing pout.

“Well, then Jude should have given it to you and not assumed I had any,” I shrug, keeping my face impassive. “There’s always water. Or beer.”

Charlie’s a smart girl. She’s not usually difficult, and her sense of humor is sharper than most. At my suggestion of beer her pout twitches briefly before she breaks out in laughter.

“You’re silly,” she says between giggles. “I can’t drink beer until next year when I’m twenty-one.”

I smack my forehead. “Oh, that’s right. I keep forgetting you’re not middle-aged yet.”

Still giggling, she throws herself onto the couch. “And you’re out of beer too.”

“Well, damn,” I groan, pretending to be upset. “I guess we’re both out of luck, huh?”

She turns serious again. “So, are we going to do anything fun while I’m here?”

I’m not sure how to take her question. I think we have fun every time we get together. Not that I try to be the ‘fun’ dad who entertains her every second, but I try to make the most of our time. However, when this stay was planned months ago, I didn’t realize I’d have to spend any of it looking for a new bass player. That’s not something I’d categorize as ‘fun.’

“Well, you’re going to help Chaos Fuel pick out a new bass player. That’ll be cool, right?”

Her eyes go wide. “Really? I can pick?”

“No, you can help us pick.”

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