Monster High 4: Back and Deader Than Ever (18 page)

“What happened to the other gargoyles?”

“The architect came by and pried them loose before the wrecking ball came. He wanted them for a bank he was designing.” He paused. “I couldn’t do it.”

“Do what?”

He helped her over a pile of broken tables.

“Spend the next hundred years above a bank.” He winced. “Could you imagine?”

Melody shuddered at the thought.

“We had been hearing about all the cool things happening for RADs in Salem, so that’s where I went.”

Melody almost said she was happy he did.

Thirty minutes later they were standing in front of a black, windowless building, eating meatball subs and drinking supersize sodas.

“What is this place?” she asked.

“Dante’s.”

“You mean where Stormy Knight played?”

Granite grinned and nodded. “I didn’t exactly go straight to Salem after Venue closed. I kind of hung here for a few weeks.” He winked, letting her know it was their secret. “That’s how I met the Goddesses. We got to talking after their show, and they offered me a job as their roadie, so I split.”

Melody tossed her half-eaten food in the trash. “I love how free your life is.”

“Have wings, will travel.” He winked again.

Wings?

“Come on, I’ll show you the inside.” Granite took her hand again. This time he didn’t let go.

A guy in a black tee and Dickies was pulling chairs off the wood tables. He glanced up when they walked in. “Closed, man.”

The place smelled like Pine-Sol and chicken wings.

“Ray. It’s me, bro.”

“Granite?” He shook his head and came over for a
too-cool-to-hug
one-armed back smack. “Sick of Salem already?”

Granite chuckled. “Just visiting.”

While he introduced her to Ray, Melody barely managed to
look away from the L7 and Butthole Surfers posters. They would look so cool in her room.

“Mind if I give her a quick tour?”

“Go for it.”

Granite held aside a black curtain, heavy with dust. It swung closed behind them, cutting off any last bit of daylight. They headed down a narrow hallway behind the stage that twisted and turned, exactly like Melody’s stomach.
Friends hold hands all the time, right?
Melody pulled away and scratched her arm.

“Behold, the greenroom,” Granite said. But there was nothing green about it. The smell of stale cigarettes greeted them at the door. “This is where Jeffie Nylons set fire to a refrigerator. Don’t ask me how.”

A worn burgundy sofa was framed by scorch marks on the white walls. She ran her hand along the charcoal-colored scars. “I saw the footage on YouTube. Were you here?”

“Yup. Never seen anything like it.” Granite plopped down on the couch and rested his boots on the smudged glass top of the coffee table. Melody wondered whose famous fingerprints he was stepping on.

A man in a striped button-down and dark, ironed jeans stood in the dark doorway. His brown leather boots and gold accessories earned him the title of Most Hollywood-Looking Dude Ever. “Do I know you?”

Granite jumped to stand. “Mr. Snyder?”

The guy stuck out his hand with mild trepidation. Granite grasped it and shook it like a can of spray paint. “I’m Granite. We met at the Heavens to Betsy gig last month.” Mr. Snyder grinned, his overbleached smile a dental homage to the Apple Store. “How
could I forget? You’re the crack who expects me to believe you’ve been at every Venue show since the late sixties, right?”

Granite nodded with the pride of being remembered. And then to Melody, “Mr. Snyder is the biggest tour manager in the entire Northwest.”

Something began to knock. It was massive opportunity.

“Hey.” Melody smiled, shaking his cologne-soaked hand. “My band is actually looking for some summer gigs. I can get you a demo or show you some videos posted on—”

He looked her up and down appraisingly. “Feathers are done, kid.” And then to Granite: “You got some chutzpah.” He chuckled to himself. “Every show since the sixties, huh?”

Granite nodded.

“So that makes you… what… about seventy years old?”

“Something like that,” Granite said, clutching his cool like a winning lottery ticket. Still, this guy was seriously ruffling Melody’s feathers. Ha.

“Melody’s band is incredibly well known,” he offered. “You must have heard of Grunge Go—”

“Leadfeather,” she interrupted.

Snyder checked the screen of his BlackBerry and turned to leave. “I told you, kid, feathers are done.”

“Wait,” Melody called.

Mr. Snyder stopped.

“Look at me… uh…”

“Lew. My first name is Lew.”

“Okay, Lew, look at me.”

Granite covered his mouth in disbelief. “Melody! What are you—?”

Melody raised her palm to silence him. Some people spend a lifetime searching for a way in. But she had the golden key. Only a fool would refuse to use it.

“You love Leadfeather,” she said to Snyder. “You love the name, you love the sound, and you love Granite, their manager.”

Lew ran a hand through his thick gray hair. “You bet I do.”

Melody took a deep breath. She looked directly into the man’s blinking blue eyes and said, “You need to put Leadfeather on tour this summer.”

Lew nodded.

“I’m thinking state-of-the-art tour bus, five-star hotels, and pizza money.”

Lew poked at the keys on his BlackBerry. He pressed Send. “Wheels are in motion, kid.” He pulled a business card out of Granite’s ear. “I minor in magic,” he boasted. “This one has my personal line. Make sure the rest of the band is free and call me at first light. I want to move on this before the big five book out.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Granite said. “I’m thinking we should start local, do a couple of smaller shows, then move into Seattle, San Francisco, maybe even LA.”

Lew pulled Granite into a headlock and knuckle rubbed his head, “Oy, I love this kid. So full of
shpilkis
.” His cell phone chirped. “This is the promoter. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Granite played it cool until the door slammed, and then pulled Melody in for a hug. To her, it felt like running into a wall. “That was insane!”

“I know!” she shouted into his neck. “The girls are going to be so excited.”

Ping!

TO:
Melody

June 20, 6:02 PM

JACKSON:
WHERE R U?

She pulled away from Granite and stared at the screen. Her mouth went dry. Her heart began to speed. It’s not that she had anything to hide. She and Granite were just friends. Colleagues, really. But how would she explain the summer tour? The snag in the Camp Crescendo plan? The fact that she’d used her Siren powers to alter the plan? She couldn’t. So she turned off her phone and put on Granite’s helmet. Shutting out the universe once again.