Page 50 of Behind the Lights

Pulling my hair back into a tie, I blew out a breath. “Hell, as far as I can remember. Like since birth. Why?”

“Why did you believe Lucas and not him?” he continued.

“I think it was just a misunderstanding, that’s all. I’m over it so I don’t see why he isn’t. It was about my boyfriend, so I should be the one with the problem here. I don’t see why this should affect our friendship.”

“Friendship is about trust, it’s the basis for all relationships,” he cut in. “The fact that you didn’t trust him to tell you the truth was like a knife to the heart. You need to take a look around my friend because you’ve been going through life with blinders on,” Diamond finished before disappearing behind the curtains of his bunk.

I turned to Mickey who was still beside me. “What am I missing here?”

He shrugged, turning the Xbox on. “Who’s up for some mad gaming?”

I moved to let Tommy take my seat to play with Mickey. We were only halfway through this trip and if Stoli was going to ignore me it was going to make for one long ass journey.

The first couple of days he acted as though I didn’t exist, didn’t utter a word to me, but by the time we came off stage from the show in Missoula, he clapped my back and told me, “Great job, Joey,” before walking off.

I stood there, stunned into silence.

Diamond came up behind me. “Just give him time, Joey. Let him come to you, don’t push it.”

I nodded and followed behind them to the bus.

Chapter

Twelve

With that tour behind us, our sights were set on recording our new CD. Sal had set us up with a studio in Seattle and we were meeting him there at nine a.m. Monday morning. We’d written a few songs while on the road, but still wanted to have a couple more down before we committed to which ones we’d be recording. The last song Stoli shared with us that he’d written,Time to Move On, bothered me, and I couldn’t put my finger on why.

Sal got us thirty days in the Seattle studio. Luckily, with the songs we had written we also had the music started for most of the tracks, but felt the pressure the minute we walked through the door as Sal and Easton were waiting inside for us.

“Good morning, boys.” He clapped his hands together to get our attention. “I know this is somewhat new to you, so today we’ll introduce you to the process and show you the rooms you can use while you’re here. From what Stoli told me, some of the songs are done, but the melodies aren’t so you’re going to need to jump on that first thing.”

Way to point out the obvious and make us even more fucking nervous.

“Sorry for reiterating what I’m sure you already know, but it’s up to me, well us,” he gestured between himself and Easton, “to make sure we’re on the same page and keep to the timeline I’ve proposed.” Easton handed each of us a sheet of paper outlining the expectations Sal had.

“Also, I’ve got a contact whose band is looking to sell their old tour bus – cheap. It’s not a looker, but with a little elbow grease you guys could make it your own. Seems you impressed the hell out of the other bands you’ve toured with’s management teams. The phone’s ringing off the hook to add you to their tours. I’m holding them back until we see how this CD pans out and get the release scheduled. I’d like to tie that in with whichever tour we decide best suits you.”

“Wow,” Stoli said, “that’s, well fuck man, that’s a lot for us to take in.”

Sal raised his brow in question. “You not happy about this, son?”

“Hell no. I’m ecstatic and I guess now is as good a time as any to let you guys work your magic while we produce ours. I believe you have a contract that needs four signatures on it?”

I commended Stoli for his handling of a situation that clearly left the three of us speechless. Straight to the point without being rude.

“That I do. Brett explained it to you guys?” he asked, retrieving a pen from his interior suit coat pocket.

“Yes, each of us understands what it entails and are ready to sign. Right guys?” Stoli looked to each of us, and we all nodded in return.

“Come on over, boys, sign on the line above each of your legal names.” Sal handed the pen to Stoli first. Behind us we heard Easton snapping pictures. Social Sinners the dream was now Social Sinners, the reality.

Mickey was the last to sign, he handed the pen back to Sal before turning to face the rest of us. Without thinking, we dog piled on top of Stoli, burying him below us. Happy tears dotted our cheeks and the smiles we wore were blinding. Our laughter mimicked the sound of the camera shutter snaps and internally I knew we were thankful Easton was catching this memory for us to be able to look back on later in life.

“Ha-ha, okay boys let’s finish the tour.” Sal put the contract in his briefcase and motioned us toward the hallway.

The guys brought their instruments in with them, so he first took us to an area we could use for practicing called the tuning room, where they dropped their gear off at before we continued. When we got to the production room, the looks on our faces mirrored one another’s – awe struck. This room blew away the little rinky-dink one we’d used for our demo CD.

“Guys, this is Dave. He’ll be the producer working with you.”

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