To Love And Be Loved

Chapter 14

Pale were the sweet lips I saw,
Pale were the lips I kissed, and fair the form
I floated with, about that melancholy storm.- John Keats.

Victor played his new song over and over on his phone. He was sitting in his tour bus as Segun drove. Layla was sitting next to him while Sam sat behind them thumbing through his phone, his guitar by his feet.

Layla's nose piercing was glinting harshly. Victor desperately wanted to rip it off.

"Relax, man. Its gonna be a hit", said Sam.

" Really?", said Victor. "It doesn't sound-"

"Perfect?" Layla asked. She gave him a heavy lidded gaze. "Nothing is perfect."

"That's what I said to my prom date after I told her her nose was too long", said Victor.

Sam chuckled behind him. Layla didn't laugh." Hardwork begets results. Its as simple as that", she said.

"Layla, the philosopher", said Victor, making a mock salute.

The bus stopped in the midst of what looked like a mile long traffic jam. Segun killed the engine.

"I bet you'll write a bestseller some day on philosophy. The philosophical ramblings of Layla, the drummer girl."

"Expectations, Vic", she said. "People have expectations. You might make good music but you are a bad apple." She stretched her hands behind her head and closed her eyes. Her side profile reminded Victor of Ichabod Crane. If Ichabod Crane wore yellow wigs, black lipstick and had a nose piercing.

"You are wrong my friend", said Victor. "I am a juicy green apple, fresh from the tree."

"Why not a red apple?" said Sam from behind them.

"Does it matter? Red apple, green apple, they're kind of the same."

Layla opened her eyes and faced him. "You've had a fight with practically everyone at the studio after just one song. I wonder if you'll shoot them all before the album is produced." She dipped her hand into her pocket and produced a cigarette which she lighted.

"Yeah, shooting them seems like a nice idea", said Victor, scratching his chin. "But it'll be a lot of mess and I hate the sight of blood."

Layla shook her head. "Bad apple", she said.

"Can you kindly...uh...put that off?" Sam asked.

Layla turned and stared at him. Victor thought she was going to punch him but then she turned, rolled the glass down and flicked the cigarette out. "Its because of you", she said. "Not him." She sank into her seat and resumed her earlier pose.

"I could fire you tomorrow."

"I'm fine with whatever tomorrow brings", she said without opening he eyes.

The bus rolled to a stop infront of a fancy looking house. Victor thought it looked like it was ripped right out of a children's storybook.

"What are we doing here", Victor said.

"My parent's house", said Layla, sliding open the door and stepping out.

"Your what?" Victor asked, Sam whistling behind him.

Layla smiled and patted down her wrinkled shirt, she suddenly looked very young. Victor guessed she couldn't be more than twenty one.

"Expectations, Vic", she said. "Expectations."

Victor shook his head. "Why do you drum?"

"My dad would freak out if he knew I was a drummer", she said. She leaned in and said, "thanks, Segun."