Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 78142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
But those days are over. This time I’ve got to stay sober. And this time, I’m determined to stay away from all of it.
Other than that, I did odd jobs around town when people needed help. It was great because I was able to keep flexible hours. When you’re part of a struggling band, you have to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice to go play at some dive bar where you might catch a big break.
And that’s exactly what happened. Dragonlock got its big break at a little bar in a small Utah town. Two members of Emerald Phoenix just happened to be in the audience and heard us play.
We each received ten grand as a signing bonus. The most money I’ve ever seen at one time. It was that way for all of us in the band.
Jesse and Rory may have married into the Steel fortune, but at the time we got that gig, the two of them really needed the money. A fire destroyed their family’s vineyards, which was their livelihood. Most of their bonuses went to help out at home.
Most of mine went to pay for rehab, other than a couple grand I socked away into my savings for emergencies. What I couldn’t afford, Jesse and Brianna made up, and I’m determined to pay them back.
I’m determined to pay Diana back for all the rent as well for as long as I stay there.
But before I can do any of that, I’ve got to get some money coming in.
Not only do I need the cash, but I need something to do. What am I supposed to do while Diana is at work? Just lie around her penthouse and eat bonbons like a kept man?
The thought actually makes me smile a bit. Wouldn’t be such a bad life. Being Diana Steel’s boy toy.
But Diana Steel has no need or use for a boy toy. That kind of life would just make me hate myself anyway.
It took me a long time not to hate myself. Especially after my relapse. I’ve still got a long way to go, but I can at least tolerate myself these days. Barely, but it is what it is.
After an hour of walking, I’m on the edge of downtown. I’ve walked this way before, and I’ve spent time browsing the music store.
What the hell? I’ll go in and see if they need any drumming instructors.
I’ve had private students before, back home on the western slope—students whose parents didn’t think to ask what my education is.
Students whose parents have usually heard me play with Dragonlock and know I’m good.
But here in the store? They may want someone with a degree in music, like Jesse and Rory have.
I walk in anyway, instinctively heading straight for the displays of drum sets.
I have a pretty decent set of drums back home. I couldn’t take my own set for our tour in Europe. We used rentals. Not that it mattered since I only played one concert.
Fuck. I don’t want to go there right now. My therapist has told me time and again to leave the past in the past and focus on today.
If Jesse had kicked me out of the band, I wouldn’t have had a lot of complaints. He had every right to. But he didn’t. He was mad as a rabid dog for sure. But he got over it. He valued our friendship enough to give me another chance. Not to mention asking me to be his best man.
I swear to God, I will never let him down again.
Tim always says it has to be more about not letting myself down, not another person. Whatever.
My own self-worth was the least of Jesse’s problems when I pulled that stunt in Europe. So why should I give a rat’s ass about it now?
I sigh. I’ve got a long way to go.
Which is why this thing with Diana can’t happen. How can I expect another person to accept me when I can barely tolerate myself?
I stroll through the drums, admiring them, and then head toward the sheet music section. I can spend hours here. Sheet music is like crack to me.
Damn, bad reference.
A new guitar and percussion piece stands out—or rather, its title does.
Griffin Sanctuary.
And of course I can’t help myself. I pick it up and take a look.
Already, I can see it has a mythological vibe to it. It’s entirely instrumental, no vocals at all. Already I know that Dragonlock will never perform it, seeing as our main selling point is Jesse and Rory’s combined vocals. But I look through the piece anyway, mesmerized by its intricacies.
The opening riff from the drum sets the scene, driving an intensely even rhythm section that propels the listener forward as if they’re on the wings of the griffin. The drums then take center stage, commanding attention with earsplitting fills and funky grooves. Then the guitar riffs soar, weaving melodies over the pulsating rhythm section. Bass lines answer the guitar’s question with a thunderous rumble.