Page 19 of A Boy Called Lovesong

Then another and another, and suddenly my glass was empty.

Mike laughed. “Wow, you really know how to drink like the best of them. Let me help you out there.”

He poured me another and I took another swig before saying, “Actually, I’ve decided to change direction with the book.”

“What?” Margot was the first to lean forward, trying not to let her surprise show.

I raised the glass to my lips again, then helped myself to my next top-up. “I’ve decided there’s a better story, a much more personal story I’d like to tell.”

Brad and Mike exchanged glances. I couldn’t tell if they were curious or concerned.

“We came to discuss the pitch that Margot has been pushing,” said Brad.

“But go on,” interjected Mike. “Let’s hear this out.”

All eyes narrowed in on me.

“I wanna shift the narrative, change the title. I guess I’m in a different place than I was when I began the book.”

Margot reached out and gripped my forearm, hard. “You’re shifting the narrative?”

I nodded. “And changing the title.”

“To what exactly?”

I took another drink then theatrically spread my hands across the air in front of me like I was revealing an invisible billboard. I guess I was starting to feel the attitude that Margot wanted me to exude. “It’s now called—the one hundred people who completely fucked over the greatest rock, pop, and blues musicians of all time.” I sat forward eagerly and my rosary clanked against my whiskey glass. “Imagine it. A no-holds-barred exposé of the murderers and fucking morons who robbed us of the world’s most gifted people. Imagine finding out the identity of the guy who gave Freddie Mercury HIV… Imagine crucifying the bastard who gave Amy Winehouse her first hit of heroin… Imagine tracking down the boyfriend who told KarenCarpenter she was too fucking fat. There are countless musicians who died before their time, who could have made the world a better place. But the people who cost them their lives… these fuckers, these murderers… they smashed the spotlights. They closed the curtains. They need to be called out for the damage they’ve done.”

I drank again… then filled my glass again. Margot made a subtle attempt to stop me, but I pulled my glass and the bottle away from her.

“Maybe you should slow down a little,” she suggested quietly.

“And maybe these people I’m talking about need to be strung up? Don’t you think those fuckers deserve to be named and shamed for what they’ve done?”

Brad squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. “It’s an interesting… development. It’s just not what we discussed. Our marketing department has already started focus groups.” He turned to Margot. “Did you know about this… ‘shift in the narrative?’”

Margot glared at me. “No, I didn’t. Noah has been going through some… changes… in his life.”

I laughed out loud. “Changes? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Noah, lower your voice.”

“Am I too loud? Seriously?”

“A little,” Brad said, glancing around the restaurant. “Maybe we could take it down a notch.”

“I thought you wanted my raw energy.”

“We do,” Mike cut in quickly. “And we love your authenticity. But perhaps we need to just reign things in for a moment and discuss this recent change of heart… and what it might mean to book sales.”

“It’s not recent.” My tone was firm. Stark. Harsh. “It’s been stirring inside me for ten months now. Simmering. Festering. Bubbling away like a fucking poison.”

Margot put her napkin on the table and moved to push her chair out. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse us, I’d like to have a word with Noah outside.”

I slapped my hand on hers and stopped her from getting up. “Actually, I’m perfectly comfortable right here. Mike said he wants to discuss my change of heart and that’s exactly what I’m doing. What would you like to know, Mike?”

Mike wriggled awkwardly in his seat. “Well… um… I guess to start with, who do you think this new book is aimed at? It seems kind of… dark… don’t you think?”

“Dark? No, not at all. This book is about justice. It’s about uncovering the truth. It’s full of hope.” Even I could hear the crazy in my laugh and tried to tame my brewing rage; the rage I had failed to tame time and time again since the day I saw that cassette tape in the shoebox. “The way I see it, the world has endured far too many losses. Too many times we’ve mourned greatness. Too many times we’ve bowed our heads and simply accepted the passing of someone whose extraordinary talents should never have been taken from us in the first place. John Lennon, Whitney Houston, Prince, Janis Joplin. These people changed the world, they changed the way we listened to music, and they could have continued doing so if not for someone who got in the way, someone who turned the tables, someone who tipped the balance of fate.” I drained my glass and slapped it down on the table. “I wanna know who that person is.”

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