Tangled Web (5 page)

“So tell me,” Katie said, sipping from her
drink, “why haven’t you ever fronted your bands?”

“You think I could actually do it?”

“Yeah.”

He grinned. “Maybe. But no way. Too much
pressure. Besides, I love the guitar. You know that. And I’m pretty
well known anyway. I mean, how many people think of a guitarist
when they think of a band?” Katie started to shake her head. “Not
many.” He emptied the beer glass in front of him and then filled it
up again, draining the pitcher. “How many guitarists are known by
name? Not many either. But you have them. For every ten nobodies
out there, you have a Randy Rhoads, Angus Young, Steve Vai, Slash,
or Zakk Wylde. Or J. C. Gibson.” He placed the pitcher back on the
table. “So why should I mess up a good thing by hogging the
mike?”

“Because you’re good at it. You have an
awesome voice.”

Johnny took another long drink. “You’re just
saying that.”

“I’m not.”

“So let’s hear yours.”

“Uh-uh. No way.”

“Come on, Katie. I’ve heard you sing. You
have great pipes.”

Katie laughed. “I do not.”

“Yes, you do.” He nodded at the cocktail
waitress across the room who came running in less than two minutes
with another pitcher. Great--now his celebrity was going to get him
treated like a king the rest of the night. Not that it was a bad
thing. Johnny wasn’t too demanding, and he didn’t let it get to his
head. “Listen--if you don’t pick a song, I’ll pick one for us that
you’ll have to do with me. Something embarrassing from the
seventies, like ‘Reunited’ by Peaches and Herb. It’d get around
town so fast. Actually, yeah. Let’s do that.”

“Are you crazy? I live here full time. No
way am I doing that.”

He slid the karaoke book in front of her. He
tapped on the page covered in plastic. “Then you pick. I’m giving
you ten minutes.”

She laughed and shook her head, but she
decided to look in earnest. She continued sipping the rum and Coke,
because she knew it would give her a little more courage than she’d
have otherwise. She flipped the page and his finger fell on three
songs by Scathing Vengeance. “See what I mean? I earn residuals
when places like this buy my songs for karaoke. How cool is
that?”

“And my iPod...”

He nodded as she continued turning the pages
backwards. “Video games too. It’s crazy.” A few people crowded
around the table, now that they knew Johnny Church was in town.
Katie kept her promise, though, and kept looking.

His hometown fans insisted that he do one of
his old songs, and the deejay agreed to let him go next. After all,
Johnny was a star and visiting for a short while, but all the
regulars were there every week. Johnny couldn’t resist the pleas of
the crowd and wound up singing a Spawn song, one that Riley had
sung in the day but that Johnny had written both the words and
music to. The song was called “Tormented.” Katie had always thought
it was a cliché, but she supposed every metal band had to have at
least one song about how hard life was, how much it sucked, and how
pain was all they ever knew. Katie knew too that it was written
before Johnny had experienced real torment, and she wondered how he
would write about more recent years with his new band. What would
he have to say in a song about the last time he had darkened her
doorstep?

After Johnny left the stage again and began
downing another beer, Katie continued looking through the book and
finally settled on one of her old favorite songs--“Kiss Me Deadly”
by Lita Ford. She was pretty sure she’d be too nervous to sing, but
she’d be sure to slam her whole drink before the deejay called her
name. She wrote it on the piece of paper, along with her name, and
delivered it to the deejay before Johnny was the wiser.

When the people surrounding the table
finally dwindled away (all except one man their age who took up
residence with them) and two more people had been up at the mike,
Johnny turned his attention back to her. “So?”

“So what?”

“Well, what have you decided on? Do you
wanna do a Donny and Marie song with me?” He fluttered his
eyelashes in jest, grinning. “Or are you gonna choose your own
song?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Well, you have to take your paper up
there.”

“Already done.” He raised his eyebrows,
nodding, and grinned. “But I could use another drink.”

“On me.” He raised his hand in the air and
his little cocktail waitress came running. Katie knew it didn’t
hurt that he tipped her a five every time she brought something.
She had a new rum and Coke for Katie in less than two minutes and
another five on her tray. She smiled at Johnny, her eyes lingering
a little longer than they should have, and Katie felt a smidgen
of...something. She took just one sip of the drink when the deejay
called her name.

She was feeling looser, yes, but she didn’t
know that she was ready. No matter--it was her turn. And she found
that, after the first verse, she had fun and enjoyed herself. She
didn’t make a complete ass of herself and actually hit all the
notes. Her hands shook a little, but she felt grateful that the
words scrolled in front of her. She didn’t have to look at Johnny
or anyone else. She could simply read the words on the screen, even
if she did know most of them, and sing. And as she grew more
comfortable and belted out more of the song, she began questioning
her song choice. And then she questioned Johnny’s as well, and just
thinking about those things, she managed to get through the song
without much more conscious thought. Johnny’s song choice revolved
around love and even obsession--sweet and maybe directed at Katie?
Katie’s was about partying and getting laid. What the hell had she
been thinking?

But she knew. As the night wore on, she felt
that old flame smoldering. Three years ago, she’d thought she was
over Johnny. Tonight she discovered that she was far from it. And
when he sang that song for her and then she felt his eyes on her
when she sang, she remembered all her old emotions.

Johnny pulled up in front of Katie’s house.
Katie was giggling, stepping off the bike, and Johnny took the
twelve pack from her while she removed the helmet. She heard a dog
bark down the street and realized she needed to quiet down. It was
after ten, and all she needed was for one of her neighbors to send
the police to her house for breaking the noise ordinance. She dug
her keys out of her pocket and unlocked the door. “Hand me that,”
she said, taking the twelve pack from Johnny and heading into the
kitchen. As she slid the beer into the fridge, she heard Johnny’s
voice from the living room. “Hey. Care if I look through your CDs
and pick something?”

“Go for it. Do you want a beer right
now?”

“Yeah, sure.”

She came back in the room and saw him
kneeling in front of her CD player that sat on the middle shelf of
the big bookcase that took up a good chunk of the wall across from
the front door. Beneath the CD player were short shelves of dozens
of albums, alphabetized from AC/DC through Rob Zombie. She had a
rather large collection. The last time she counted, she had well
over three hundred CDs. She hadn’t wanted to ask her insurance
company if they would be covered in the event of theft or fire, but
she videoed everything in her house and kept the tape in a safe
deposit box in case there were any question. Katie estimated that
her music collection (not including the actual CD player or the
digital files she had on her iPod) was worth thousands of dollars.
She didn’t know if being friends with Johnny had made music one of
her passions too or if they were good friends because their love of
music was something they shared in common. Whatever the case, a lot
of her money went toward purchasing music.

“Aw. You still have my first CD. ‘To Katie,
my best friend forever.’ God, did you puke when you read that?”

“No, of course not. But that’s raw,
unpolished, fresh-from-the-garage stuff. I bet I could make a
shitload of money if I put that up for auction on eBay.”

Johnny feigned disgust. “Well, I suggest you
at least wait until I’m back in the studio. Either that or wait
till I’m dead. You’ll make more money then.”

She sat next to him on the floor and handed
him his beer, lid already removed. She playfully slapped his arm.
“You’re sick.”

“That’s why you love me.” He pulled out
And All That Could Have Been
, a live Nine Inch Nails CD.
“Awesome. This first. I don’t think I’ve heard this one.” He slid
the CD into the tray. “Oh, you’ve got some Disturbed. Haven’t heard
them in a while. They’re next, I think.” He paused. “Or maybe
Hendrix.”

Katie scoffed. “Don’t you have any of this
stuff?”

He shrugged. “Somewhere. In my mom’s attic
maybe. I don’t know, really. I used to. Some of it might be gone
for good.” He was looking at the artwork on System of a Down’s
Toxicity
album, the band’s name made to look like the
Hollywood sign. “This was such a great fuckin’ album.”

“Yeah. I can’t decide if this one or
Mezmerize
is my favorite.”

Already looking at another row of music,
Johnny placed the CD jewel case back in its slot on the shelf.
“Yeah, that was a good one too.” Katie’s eyes followed the CD into
its slot.

When she looked away from the CD, she found
Johnny staring at her again, just like he had earlier in the
evening at Napoli. She recognized that look, though, and then she
knew it wasn’t just her own emotions tugging at her heart. Johnny
had
the
look. And it disarmed her because he’d never had
that look for
her
. Never. She swallowed, looked down, then
got up quickly. “I forgot my beer,” she said, nervous, walking to
the kitchen. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

Johnny took it in stride unfazed and
continued talking over Trent Reznor’s smooth suggestive vocals.
Katie didn’t hear what Johnny said, exactly, but she breathed in a
few deep breaths alone in the kitchen, willing her heart to slow
back down. Then she got another beer out of the fridge and twisted
off the cap, even though she had no intention of drinking it. She’d
already had too much to drink tonight, but fetching a bottle out of
the kitchen had provided a convenient escape from the charged
moment.

When she came back in the living room,
Johnny had out his first studio CD, not the garage band copy he’d
made for his best friend and biggest fan. When Spawn of Satan had
landed a contract, they had changed their name to “Spawn” at the
insistence of their manager, dropping the hellish reference. The
name still held the intent without alienating fans--that’s what
their manager had said, at any rate. Their first album was also
self-titled. The cover was a black background covered in flames,
overlaid with a picture of the five band members in various
“disinterested” rock poses, nothing atypical. “Hey, Katie. Do you
have any old yearbooks around here?”

She paused. “Yeah, I think so. Hold on a
second.” She walked over to the hall closet and, just as her
neatnik-self had thought, her yearbooks were stacked behind
Monopoly and Life. She’d inherited the games and couldn’t bear to
part with them, but she never played them. And those were the kinds
of things Katie kept in her hall closet--neglected items she wanted
to keep. She hadn’t actually looked at her yearbooks in at least a
decade, but she knew where they were. She pulled them all out for
Johnny and had no interest in reading all the insipid comments
bound to be contained therein. She knew, for instance, that at
least one friend had written this:

2 good

+ 2 be

= 4 gotten.

Like a lot of high school friends, though,
she had forgotten who had written it, and she wasn’t interested
enough to dig through the pages to find out. She was, however,
interested in looking at the pictures with Johnny.

He stood up and sat on the couch. She sat
next to him. “Did you want to look at senior year?”

He nodded, and she handed him the top book.
Then they started flipping through the pages. Katie wasn’t looking
anymore, though, because her memory was already taking her
back.

* * *

Spawn of Satan had started playing teen
birthday parties and had even played a bar or two (with written
parental permission, of course). The boys of the band were starting
to believe their press, and they were living the high life. Their
grades were slipping but hanging by a thread, and the principal had
lectured them more than once that, since he had given them their
opportunity, they shouldn’t disrespect him now by blowing off
school. In fact, if they didn’t get their act together, he said, he
wouldn’t let them play for prom. So they managed to keep their
grades high enough. Barely. They just might graduate.

Johnny wasn’t full of himself. No, that
wasn’t what was getting under Katie’s skin as spring rolled around.
It was that he wasn’t around anymore. Even when they hung out, his
mind was elsewhere--in the clouds, in the music, in bed with
another girl. She knew he wasn’t fully tuned in when they were
spending time together anymore, even when he came over for dinner
once in a while. He just wasn’t there. Katie asked him once point
blank why he was acting distant, and he simply told her, “I have a
lot on my mind, Katie. I’ve got dreams. I’m plotting them in my
head.” So even though he wasn’t involved in their friendship for
the meantime as he should have been, she satisfied herself with his
answer, even though she didn’t feel fulfilled.

But that left an opening for Riley, a guy
she never would have considered before. As grounded as Johnny was,
Riley was as conceited and cocky. He thought he was the greatest
thing to ever walk the earth, and he made sure everyone else knew
it. Most of his fan base (screaming teenage girls) believed it too
and their weak sighs and hopeful eyes fanned his flame. From his
Levi’s that were a little too tight to accentuate his bulge to the
disinterested cool chin nod he had perfected over the years, it was
obvious to Katie that Riley was his own biggest fan.