Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Like everything we fought for is finally allowed to exist.
Chapter 24.
Austin
I get a call from Cam in the morning.
He saw the concert. Every minute of it. And he was so proud of me, he literally cried. And our former drummer is not known for showing any form of emotion on his blank, stony, bearded face. “I saw you up there,” he says to me, trying not to get choked up again. “All of you. And I mean all of you, Aus, every part of you.”
He tells me if I’m ever in his area, stop by so we can take a trip down memory lane together and he can meet my beau.
It’s such a strange feeling, to have someone.
And to have that someone freely.
To share all of this madness with. To depend on when it’s just one of those days. To call up when I’m sad. Or over the moon. To celebrate my successes with and hold against my body when I just need to feel less alone in the world.
And to hold against my body for other reasons.
Sweaty reasons. Horny reasons.
Or cuddle-in-bed-and-watch-a-bad-rom-com reasons.
I also call Drew at the label, just as I promised Ian I would. He gives me the softest slap on the wrist you can imagine—it feels more like an attaboy—then tells me what the label is going to do to help support my new direction. I tell him I don’t see it as some new direction or “career pivot” like he and Irene do. I’m just being the kind of artist I set out to be since the start.
In truth, after our “musical mutiny” last night and seeing the power I apparently have over my own following, I think it’s the label now scrambling to do everything in their power to please me.
They don’t want me doing something crazier.
Y’know. Like ditching them for another label.
Not with our contract coming up for renewal this year.
Talk about shitting bricks in the corporate office.
And if I didn’t already have a surreal morning on the phone with the label and my former drummer, I’m now seated at a large table with TJ, his parents, and my bandmates, all of us full of funny stories from last night. Cissy and Tim are incredible, welcoming Fiona, Wily, and Raj into their house with open minds and open hearts. It feels like destiny of some kind, that all of us would end up here sharing breakfast, laughing too hard, and filling this space with boundless love.
We’re not alone for very long. The second breakfast ends, our peace is invaded by Cissy’s hardworking team who transform the whole house into a party spot for the Fourth. Red, white, and blue everything. Furniture gets gently rearranged or removed entirely to who-knows-where. Coolers are dragged in from all directions. I try to help but am quickly shooed away by Cissy, who rushes into the room out of thin air and tells me to hang out with TJ and my bandmates in the guest wing and to not “fuss over a dang thing all gosh dang day, you precious sweetheart”. Even in the guest wing, I see so many people hard at work setting up her party through the giant windows, bodies in the gardens, bodies across all the patios and pathways and out in the grass. I even spot some familiar faces from last night including Malcolm with a headset in his ear, and I wonder if the poor guy slept wearing it, always busy running the show, reminding me a lot of Dee.
With the madness going on out there, we all end up hanging around the guest wing pool, lounging in the chairs talking about anything that comes to mind. Wily’s down to his shorts in the pool swimming laps—he looks so different when his long hair gets wet and glues to his neck and upper back. Fiona and Raj, who became besties overnight apparently, are in the chairs across from me and TJ. I guess Fiona and Laina are back on—tentatively, trying it out, a toe back in the water, so to speak—and it’s evident the difference it makes with how damned happy she looks right now.
It was more than just a weight falling off my back. All of us look lighter on our feet. Lighter in our hearts. Lighter in every way that matters.
TJ rests his head on my shoulder. “Where’s your first show?”
I’m gently rubbing his arm. “You mean when we’re back on the road? No idea. Couldn’t care less.” I kiss the top of his head. “Is that what’s on your mind?”
“No, no, just curious.” He chuckles. “I just can’t imagine how differently your shows are gonna be for this last leg of your tour. Thought you had crazy fans before? Phew. Every last one of them is gonna try and gobble you up.”