Page 28 of Too Little Too Soon
“Not worried about crazed fans, are you?” Travis said after the tender refreshed Cash’s drink.
“Trust me, I’m hiding, just like you.”
“How do you figure?” Travis asked, eyeing his friend’s shirt.
Cash sighed. “Do you want to know why you thought I looked familiar when we met?”
When they’d first formed the band, he was sure he knew Cash, but he could never pinpoint how. And it hadn’t been from Cash’s concert pianist days; Travis had never been into that brand of music.
It drove him nuts.
Eventually, he let it go. He must have seen his bandmate at a bar or something. Cash had never offered up a suggestion or even acknowledged that he recognized Travis too.
Until now.
“Well, now that you bring it up for the first time in almost a year, yeah, I do.”
Cash took another pull from his drink and dug his wallet out of his jeans pocket. He slid his driver’s license across the bar top.
Travis snagged his reading glasses from an inner pocket and peered at the small plastic rectangle. The first thing he noticed was—“That’s not your name. And that’s not your pic—wait, I do know you.”
He cocked his head and studied the guy sitting next to him, who suddenly looked really nervous.
“Holy shit,” Travis said. “No way.”
“Yes way, although I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone else.” Cash snatched the driver’s license back and stuffed it into his wallet.
“Are the dreads real or a weave?”
A laugh burst from Cash. “That’s seriously what you want to know?”
Travis shrugged. “They are definitely a good disguise. No one from our former lives would guess who you are.”
“They’re real. I looked into changing my name legally, too, except in order to do so, I have to publish my intent in the newspaper, and neither my parents nor I are keen to bring attention to our connection, especially now that the band is taking off.”
“Damn. That’s a tough spot.” Travis hadn’t had to go that far; he just had to move to California. His parents’ reach only extended regionally, in Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, and Louisiana. And he’d been the black sheep pretty much from day one, so he hadn’t been in the spotlight like his brother was. He doubted anyone from his former life even cared about his connections.
Cash’s situation was different, though. While yes, his father had once run in the same circles as Travis’s parents, his mother was currently a politician. In California.
A conservative one, at that.
“You’re telling me,” Cash said.
“Me, I took off as soon as I graduated from high school,” Travis said. “And never looked back. But you were a concert pianist. Was that part of your parents’ grand plan?”
“We figured out early that I was a master on the keys. I used to perform on stage with my dad, playing piano while he sang. I was playing the organ by the time I was eleven. Even so, I wanted out. Religion has its place, but it’s too easy to exploit people. I was never comfortable. But it also never occurred to me to truly break free.
“Luckily, I guess, my mom had political aspirations, and somehow figured out that a conservative Black woman would do well in California, so Dad retired from the church circuit and became her campaign manager. We moved to LA just as I was about to start my freshman year in high school. Dad hired a piano teacher who believed I was talented enough to be on stage, which, ultimately, equated to concert pianist.”
“But?” Travis prodded.
“I didn’t love it. I loved to play, but I didn’t love the music I was playing. I wanted to play rock. But I knew I couldn’t have the best of both worlds, especially with my mom’s career and some of the platforms she stood for.”
“So you walked away from your family? To do this?”
Cash shook his head. “We still talk. They don’t love what I do, but they aren’t willing to lose me entirely. I spent Christmas with them, but when the photographer came to do the shot for Mom’s website, I disappeared upstairs.”
He shrugged like it was no big deal, but Travis couldn’t imagine it wasn’t.
