Page 9 of Derailed
4
Sean
“He’s fucking good.”Austin’s brows rise and he lets loose a whistle from inside the sound booth where we’re all gathered watching some dude wail down on the drums like he was born to playrock.
“The right look.” Trent nods inagreement.
“Mad skills. I’ll give him that.” I tip my chin and watch as he breaks out into a roll that’s ten times better than any of our former drummers could have pulled off. The man doesn’t even break a sweat. In fact, he’s so calm he almost looksbored.
“Not a cokehead, either.” Austin laughs, but that earns him a room full of glares. “What? Toosoon?”
“You’re a jackass, Austin,” I mutter and plop into one of the padded leather chairs, leaning back enough to rest my feet on thecounter.
“Yeah, well, you’re a tightass. We each bring our individuality to the band.” He grins and sticks his tongue out my way. We’re all dealing with the latest turn in 3UG history differently. Austin continues to crack jokes as if it’s not a big fucking deal we’re drummer-less.Again.
I’m working to come to grips with it, but honestly, I don’t give a flying fuck who they bring in to play. He’ll probably leave like everyone else. I’m more consumed by the fact Iz is a drug addict. The guilt I have from enabling him to use while I turned a blind eye haunts me more than I’ll ever admit. I should have said something that night at the Grammy’s. Before, too. Would it have changed events? Maybe, maybe not, but now I’ll neverknow.
“What do you think, T?” Bedo asks, his eyes trained on our lead singer while Trent watches Coy through the glass of the studiobooth.
“He can play. So, let’s meet him. If he’s cool, I say give him a temporarycontract.”
“You all good with that?” Bedo asks and we all nod. He steps over to the control panel, knocking my shoes off the edge with a dirty look before pressing one of the buttons. “Hey, Coy. That’s enough. Why don’t you come on back so we canchat?”
I don’t miss how Coy’s lips fall with the interruption, or how his shoulders droop with a polite nod as he stands from the drum set and makes his way toward the sound booth. He assumes we don’t want him. Well, he’s in for the surprise of his life. I wonder who he is and what’s with his story. He can play like a motherfucker, but that’s not all there is to making it in this biz. Our band is tight, and we all grew in our success together, but this guy, he’d be climbing into an already made bed. Can he handleit?
Bedo pops open the door. “Come on in. Have aseat.”
“Thanks. Thank you all for the opportunity.” Before sitting down, he shakes each of our hands. It’s a nice gesture, and I’m hopeful this could really be so simple. We auditioned a bunch of guys last week, but they were nowhere near the caliber of musician we needed. Maybe Coy’s our next UglyGuy.
“Where’d you learn to play?” Trent asks as Coy settles into hisseat.
“Oh, a little here, a little there. My uncle had a set in his basement and I used to mess around there. Just enough to annoy the shit out of everyone, so he decided to teach me toplay.”
“He play for aband?”
“Just a local group. A bunch of old dudes from his church got together to play covers at local bars and stuff. Nothing huge, but he lovedit.”
“You can certainly play.” Trent tips his chin with asmile.
“Thank you.” Coy puffs up a little with the compliment and sits taller in hischair.
Austin leans against the wall. “We think you have the right look, too. Not as good looking as me, but it’llwork.”
“I don’t know man, the ladies . . . they love my eyes.” He bats his lashes and I’d smile if we werefriends.
“What’s your stance on illegal drug use?” Bedo cuts in, kindaharsh.
“Is this because I’m from Denver?” He winces and then gives a littlewink.
Bedo taps his fingers on the counter, his smile grim. “We’re not debating morality here, we just wanna know if youuse.”
Coy shrugs. “I’ve been known to light up in my younger days, but I can pass a drug test if that’s what you’reasking.”
Considering our blunder at the Grammy’s has been plastered on every news show and entertainment site for weeks, I find his indifference in bad taste. “Ringing endorsement. This guy.” The moment the words leave my lips, Coy meets mystare.
“I don’t touch the hard stuff.” He runs his palms down the front of his jeans. “Look, I’m gonna be stupid honest with you all. This is the biggest fucking opportunity of my lifetime. I get that. I don’t take it lightly, and I won’t fuck it up. If I do, you have full permission to beat myass.”
“So, you’re into ass play?” Austin’s lips pull up with a smug smile. Giving each other a hard time is just part of being in theband.
