Blessed Tragedy (30 page)

“Come on, we don't bite,” I said patting the cushion beside me.

“Often,” Jon added. When Rain looked at him like he was serious, the room erupted in laughter.

“First rule if you plan to hang...lighten the fuck up.” Despite the signals this girl was giving off, I put a hand on her shoulder, gently massaging out the tension. When she didn't flinch away from me, I turned her slightly allowing both hands to go to work. Her neck and back were so tight it felt like concrete. I wasn't sure what her deal was but I planned to find out.

The four of us sat there for the next two hours talking about music. She'd left home after high school hoping to make a living making music. How in the hell she wound up in Portland, I'll never know because there are so many places better if you're chasing that particular pipedream. She didn't have anything in the way of a musical background but damn, the girl had more passion than most people I knew in the business.

Jon seemed to ease up as it got later; a combination of beer, Jack Daniels and the fact that Travis just might have been onto something. “Okay kid, you talk a good game. Now, let's see if you can back it up.” He tossed my guitar at me, nodding. “Go on, tell him what you wanna do. He's not as dumb as he looks, he'll be able to muddle through it.”

I scowled at Jon as I pulled my long blond hair back into a  low ponytail. “Never mind him. So, you tell me...” She'd eased up considerably but I could tell her nerves were still frayed.

“Black Velvet,” she said, her eyes fixed on mine. “Don't fuck it up.”

She sat up at the edge of the cushion, swaying as I started playing the intro. The way she was bobbing her head and biting her lip, I had a feeling we were about to get schooled. Alanah Myles has a voice that's hard to beat and
Black Velvet
is one of those songs you don't attempt if you can't do it well.

“Mississippi...” From the very first word, I had to remind myself that I was supposed to be accompanying her. She kept her eyes closed through every beat of the song, the expression on her face telling the story as much as the words coming out of her mouth.

When she finished, Jon slowly clapped from the kitchen island. “Damn little girl, you got some pipes on ya. That's not what we normally do, but shit!” Seeing Jon close to at a loss for words was rare. I'm just glad he found something to say because it was going to take a while before I could pick my jaw up off the ground.

“Not bad.” She draped her arm over my shoulder and pulled me in for a hug. Yeah, there was definitely a chemistry there that said she'd make magic with us.

It took over a month for us to convince Rain that she really was badass and would be doing us a favor by rounding out Blessed Tragedy. During that time, she hung out with us every day, mostly doing covers from eighties greats like Pat Benetar and Joan Jett.

Every Saturday and every other Friday, she'd join us at Wilsons. The first three nights she was there, she sat at our table to the right of the stage and watched us perform. The following Saturday night, Jon came out from behind his drum kit two songs into the second set. It wasn't unusual for him to decide he had something to say, but normally it was planned. I gave him a curious look before stepping to the side.

“What would you say if I told you we had a surprise in store for you folks tonight?” Jon yelled into his mic. The nearly capacity bar went wild with cheers. “Well, you're in luck because we've got one hell of a big one!”

I looked to Jon, then looked over at Rain. When Jon crooked a finger in her direction, she shook her head violently. My eyes bounced from him to her and back to him. There was about to be a battle of wills and I wasn't sure which one would win. I jumped off the stage to give her a little pep talk.

“Come on, you're ready for this,” I assured her. Hell, she was probably more ready to be on stage than we were, truth be told.

“I can't. They came here to listen to you guys, not to some girl with a fucked up dream of being a rock star.” For as much as she talked about wanting it, there was something holding her back from making her dreams come true.

I brushed her ruby red curls away from her face and looked deep into her eyes. “You have the fire. I've seen it. And I think you're the only one who's not ready to see that
you are
one of us.” Jon's patience was starting to wear thin with her hesitation to jump in and take the mic but Travis and I insisted she just needed more time. I wasn't sure I'd be able to convince him again if she didn't get up there. I also knew it would be the biggest mistake any of us could make to not have her as our lead singer.

“One song. You get up there, do
Black Velvet
and if you don't like it, you can come back here and nurse your Cherry Pepsi. Deal?” I reached my hand to her pulling her to her feet. I pulled her close for a reassuring hug. “They're gonna love you as much as we do,” I whispered into her ear.

I tried to ignore the combination of vanilla and jasmine filling my nose as I nuzzled my head into her hair. I tried to deny the fact that she fit perfectly under the crook of my arm, our bodies melding together like we were made for one another. Even though I'd definitely thought about all the things I wanted to do to this girl, I knew it was neither the time nor the place for those thoughts.

“Fine,” she conceded. “One song. Just don't fuck it up.” She shot me a wry smile as she walked away and I wondered if there would ever be a day when she'd let her walls down enough to let me in. For now, I'd wait for those confident, sarcastic moments to roll around and pray I could find the right thing to say when she was the insecure version of herself.

As expected, the crowd went ballistic within the first ten words of her first song. I think the fact that she's so petite added to the fascination our fans had with her because it was such a stark contrast to her commanding voice. When the first song was done, she attempted to leave the stage but Travis held her tight while Jon officially introduced her to the Saturday night crowd at Wilsons. Knowing her name after that, the crowd chanted for her to get back in front of the mic and we spent the rest of the night creating a set list as we went based on the songs we'd jammed on in Travis's apartment.

And that was the night Rain became the lead singer for Blessed Tragedy. While I couldn't be certain, I'd like to say the push I gave her was the one she needed to realize her potential and start living her dreams. The insecure girl started to fade into the background and we got to see fiery Rain the majority of the time.

She and Travis were both pretty tight-lipped about how they met until one night when we were all drinking. I'd noticed that Rain never drank more than one beer, and most nights that was left on the makeshift cinderblock and lumber coffee table half full or more. With the help of Jack Daniels, I finally asked her about it.

“What's up with you not drinking?” I slurred. Her eyes darted to Travis and then off into the distance.

“Maybe I'm just not a big drinker,” she said, her emerald green eyes meeting mine for a moment before she looked away again.

Had I been sober, that would have been a suitable answer. Unfortunately for me, I was about three hours on the wrong side of sober. “Bullshit. If you weren't a drinker, you wouldn't take the beer when it's offered. What's your deal?”

“Dude, do you know when to shut the fuck up?” Travis shouted.
Why does it matter to him if I ask her about her goody two-shoes stance on alcohol?

I lifted my hands in surrender. “My bad, didn't realize it was such a touchy subject.” I grabbed the bottle of Jack out of Jon's hands and took a long drink. “Forget I fucking said anything.”

“No, it's fine,” Rain said quietly, still unwilling to make eye contact. Whatever her reason, it was obviously something that caused her pain. I might have been drunk, but there was no mistaking that reaction.

Travis, who was as drunk as I was if not more so, stood from the barstool at the kitchen island. “No, Rain. It's not okay. He had no fucking right to try to make you feel bad about not drinking. Fuck, I'm a dick for having the free-flow going when you're over here to begin with.” I looked at Trav trying to figure out what in the hell he was talking about. “Colt, you need to just let it go.”

Fine by me, I thought that's what I already said I was going to do. Damn, now I really want to know. Thanks, Trav.

Rain curled her slender legs under her so she was a compact little ball at the end of the couch. “No, it's cool,” she said to Trav. She took a deep breath and her shoulders slumped forward. “You might as well know, I'm a recovering addict. I preferred coke to alcohol any day of the week, but I try to be careful about too much of anything. I'm supposed to be finding ways to deal with my shit that don't involve altering my state of consciousness. Or some bullshit like that.”

I reached out to her, grateful that she'd shared that part of herself with us. I couldn't help but wonder what had happened in her past that she couldn't see that we'd all be here to help her every damned day if she'd let us. Her fingers felt tiny in my hands and I could feel the calluses from years of playing guitar scraping across her smooth skin.

“Hey, I really am sorry I pushed. I can be an ass when I'm drunk. And tonight... I'm way drunk.” She laughed at my observation and I had hope that I hadn't totally fucked things up with her.

I'm not sure why I was so worried about that but I was. From the moment I saw her walk in wearing a ribbed tank top and skater pants looking like a runaway teen, I'd wanted to get closer to her. When I was younger, my mom called me a fixer. I always found the broken kids, befriended them and then tried to fix their problems. In some ways, I think I saw something in her that first day that made me acutely aware that she was very, very broken on the inside.

“Seriously though, thank you for trusting us with that. I know it's probably not something you like talking about.” I knew all too well what it was like to admit you had a problem. “I hope that someday you'll realize that you're one of us now. That means you don't have to go through anything alone anymore.”

There were tears lining her dark lashes when she looked up to me. “I hope you don't mind if it takes me a while to get there,” she whispered. “I haven't exactly had good luck with anyone sticking around and having my back before.”

With the mood for the evening effectively killed, Jon excused himself shortly after our little altercation without saying a word. Rain worried that we'd upset him until I assured her that was typical Jon. When he got to his limit for the night, he'd get up and stagger to his own apartment two blocks away. Trav lifted his head from the breakfast bar at the sound of the door slamming shut and stumbled to his bedroom leaving Rain and I alone in the living room.

“You ready to go home?”

“Seeing as my ride may or may not have made it to his bed before passing out, I think I'm stuck here for the night,” she replied looking down the dark hallway.

I stood and extended a hand to help her up from the couch. “Come on, I'll give you a ride.”

“No, really, it's okay. He can run me home in the morning. Besides, shouldn't you think about crashing here too?”

“I kinda lost the urge to drink a while ago. I'm good.” I grabbed my keys off the kitchen counter and turned back to her. “But now that I think of it, I am hungry. Come on, you're not going to make me sit alone at the diner, are you? Do you have any clue how pathetic I'll look if I do that?”

Rain lifted her eyes to me while her head was still bowed towards the ground. I have no clue why that simple look turned me on but there was no denying the stirring I felt in my jeans. I tried to will myself soft, fearing she'd think I was a pervert trying to get her into bed. Sure, I'd thought about it, but that didn't mean I'd act on it.

“I suppose. Wouldn't want your ego bruised by someone seeing you sitting all by yourself.
That
would be the true tragedy,” she quipped. I was glad to see all wasn't lost after the emotion speed bump earlier.

I led her downstairs and out to my car. When I told her I drove a red Mustang, I can only imagine what image she got in her head based on the twinkle in her eyes. I'd lay money down that she didn't picture a 1984 Mustang with sun-faded paint, a dented quarter panel and ripped cloth seats. No, it wasn't anything special but it got me from point A to point B faithfully.

“This is me,” I said opening the passenger's side door and helping her in.

“Wow... it's no wonder you're single if you try picking girls up for dates in this thing,” she laughed.

“Who said I pick up girls in anything?” I asked. Suddenly, I wanted it to be abundantly clear that I was single by choice. I didn't see the point in taking time away from my music for a girl who would drop me like a bad habit if I wasn't in the band. I'd had my days of endless pussy when I was eighteen and learned it really wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

I slammed the door shut and ran around to my side of the car. We didn't say anything on the short drive to Nan's Diner and that silence continued inside.

Finally, I was the one who couldn't take the silence any longer. “So, how
did
you and Travis meet? If you don't want to tell me, just tell me to butt the fuck out and I will. But I get the feeling there's a missing piece of this puzzle somewhere.”

After staring out the window for a while, Rain folded her hands on the table in front of her and looked to me. “I don't know why it's a big deal, but it is to me. Travis is friends with one of my counselors from rehab. After she heard me playing the piano in the resident lounge, she started asking about my music. She said it would be a good outlet for me if I let it be.”

Her gaze drifted into the distance again and I knew she was trying to decide how much to tell me. “When it got close to time for me to get out, she told me she had a friend. Travis. And she told me she wanted to talk to him on my behalf to see if he knew of anyone looking for a singer. And I guess the rest is history.”

“Take Me Out” by Danielle A. Elwood