URGENT (Book 2 of the Soundcrush Series)

Chapter 7: Nice Guys Don't Lead Fangirls On

So....check out the song Eleven Minutes Away  Yungblud/Halsey.....it is the inspiration for Adam's description of Mac and Leed's performance in this chapter---in this chapter, Soundcrush's latest single is a bit of a departure in Soundcrush's normal sound....it's kind of a plot point later on...

Adam

I deliberately give Mac some space this afternoon. Bodie and I go a few rounds at a nearby boxing gym, and after a quick shower back at the hotel, we pile into the SUV's to head to the arena--commonly known around these parts as the Benz. Trace is missing but he texted me to say he's on his way and will probably beat us there.

Mac is sitting  with Leed, and I'm kicked back with Bodie. Spirits are high. It's a huge hometown show for Trace, Leed and Mac—probably our biggest crowd draw ever—and we want to deliver the performance of our lives. Mac and Leed are lit up with excitement. I smile at Mac—she looks so cute in her everyday clothes—a pair of olive green shorts and a vintage Def Leppard T-shirt. Like the old days, when she was a little bit grunge, a little bit emo in her style.

These days, her stage look is all leather and skin.

The rock scene isn't what it used to be. The sound might be grungy, but not the look. Image is everything, and it's still doubly true for women in the business. And frontmen, too. Trace, Bodie and I can wear generic jeans and holey t-shirts on stage and nobody mentions our clothes—only our performance, but let Mac or Leed look a little off their sexy game, and that's all that gets talked about. Tamara considers it a point of pride to hit that sweet spot with Leed and Mac—just the right amount of edgy sex appeal so that it seems natural, and their amazing performances shine.

The Lawson Sibs really steal the show. We all contribute to the sound and the songwriting to some degree, and Trace has always driven the direction and the business agenda...but Mac and Leed are the stars. Leed's presence and Mac's talent.

I'm staring at her now, acutely aware that she's glowing. Get a grip, Heartley. That's her natural pre-show excitement. Women don't glow when they are twelve hours pregnant.

It's kind of crazy, how I'm already thinking that she is. But the way she woke this morning, and stared at me with those cool green eyes, and said. "Something is different," ...

Fuck me. It is goddamn possible that Mac has a fucking intuition so strong she can sense being pregnant? Jesus Christ.

Dammit...I should really clean up my language. I feel like...if there is a higher power at work, it probably doesn't appreciate my continual profaning of the miracle of life. And profaning pretty much everything else, too.

Yeah, I should dial it back. Especially, you know...with a maybe-baby on the way. Set a good example.

I should go with...Gosh. Wow. Dang. Holy cow.

Naw, fuck that shit. Mildness doesn't really work for me. I'm a fucking musician. My kid will cuss. Meh. God will forgive.

I become suddenly aware that even though all this insanity is running through my mind, Mac and I are giving each other the stare-down. I sift through the acceptable things I can communicate to her right now.

"So, Ash was at the hotel today," I say.

"Fuck! For real?" Mac blurts. I smile. Yeah, any kid we have...fuck will be their first word. "How was she? What happened?"

"Hurting. Out of pain meds. I stashed her in my room. Trace came and dealt with her. I cleared out."

"You should have called me or Mac," Leed said. "Trace is done. He's just going to send her away with money for drugs."