Memphis Millennials

Chapter One

Disclaimer: From what the news, and Kurt Sutter himself, has been saying...I wouldn't actually want to be connected to this show in real life. Word is that last season the set was hell on earth for the cast and crew. So, nope, not connected to it. My temper's a little too Irish to deal with Kurt Sutter's ego. I literally live in one of the poorest cities in America so you know I'm not making a profit off of this.

Disclaimer II: Just assume at all times that any song lyrics used in this story are not mine. I've been a country kick recently...as you will soon discover.

Author's Note: Yes, I know I've used this plot device before but I deleted that particular story before it was completed to be respectful to someone recently deceased. I wanted to try again and I just finished watching both seasons of Mayans MC...it was a perfect storm of inspiration.

"One beer turns into a lit cigarette
Burnin' into a two beer buzz
Three beers turns into five and six
Then a love-drunk kiss in the back of that truck
Just like that, everything rearranges
Life changes - "

My cell phone going off in my back pocket threw off the band in the middle of rehearsals.

"Sorry, y'all, my bad. I thought it was on silent." I dug my phone out of my pocket. It was a California number. "Whoever this is, it better be good," I answered with a touch of an attitude. All of my friends and family knew better than to bother me while I was working. It was literally my only pet peeve.

"Shit, you're not Coco," a male voice with a touch of a Latin accent replied.

"Nope, I'm not Coco." I rolled my eyes. "I also don't know anyone named Coco."

"My mistake, chica. I think I have the wrong number."

"I think so too." I disconnected the call before the man could say another word.

"Damn, Chelsea, who pissed in your cornflakes?" My bandmate, Chris, chuckled.

I laughed with him for a moment. "I'm just ready to get this tour over and done with. We are long overdue for a break."

"Ain't that the damn truth," Ricky, our drummer, agreed.

Ricky, Chris, and I were all members of the Memphis Millennials, a country band out of Tennessee. Chris was my co-lead singer. The band was rounded out by my cousin, Wade, on bass and my lifelong best friend, Rose, on fiddle and backing vocals. We had first found country music stardom fifteen years earlier when we were all just teenagers and young adults. Since that first album went triple platinum we had done nothing but record, promote, and perform. Our just-released sixth album was the last record we were contractually required to record for our record label. We had all agreed to a two-year (minimum) hiatus after the world tour we were about to embark on. We were all in our late twenties and early thirties. We were all getting to the point where we wanted to settle down.

"Lets just take it from the top and then we can go home for the day." This was our last rehearsal before we hit the road. It was a Saturday evening and the tour buses were scheduled to roll out at four in the morning on Monday. I still had packing left to do."

****
"Seriously, Tonks, get out of mommy's suitcase or I'm gonna zip you in there," I threatened my cat. Tonks just stared at me blankly while her sister, Neffi, perched on my dresser like a tabby gargoyle. I'd rescued both cats from the streets of Memphis and they had vastly different temperaments. Neffi (short for Nefertiti) was a very proper and spoiled animal. She had simply walked in my back door one day when I left it open and never left. Being the oldest and first cat in the house, Neffi was the queen. She had the adorable and, at times, annoying habit of perching on furniture like a sphinx (hence her name) and loudly crying until she got the attention she wanted. You came to her, she did not come to you. Tonks, on the other hand, was a love bug that I had discovered hiding under my car as a kitten. She followed me around like a little shadow and demanded, via a baby-like meow, to be held as often as I allowed. Both cats were seasoned travelers as I had paid an arm and a leg to get them travel permits. When I went, Neffi and Tonks were sure to follow. They even had their own luggage and travel beds. Yes, I'm a crazy cat lady. I know and I don't care. I'm kind of proud of it.

Giving up the battle of the suitcase for the moment, I walked out to my living room to grab my phone off of the coffee table. I had promised my momma that I would call her. Once I entered my password, I was surprised to find that I had a text message from the same California phone number that had called me during rehearsals. Curiously, I opened it and read it.

*Sorry about earlier, country mouse. New phone and I dialed the wrong area code. Didn't mean to bother you.*

I giggled a little bit at being called a country mouse before I replied.

**No worries. I probably could have been nicer about it. I'm guessing you're a city mouse?**

I got a reply by the time I ended my phone call with my momma.

*More like a Mexican mouse.*

I couldn't resist my next typed words. He had kinda made it too easy.

**You're Speedy Gonzalez, got it.**

This time the response was almost immediate.

*Okay, that was kind of racist...but it also made me fucking like you. I handed you that one.*

"MEOW!"

"Neffi, I'm not coming in there to pet you! You come here if you want attention!"

"MEOW! MEEEOOOW!"

"Damn it, fine! I'm freakin' coming your royal highness!" I hollered at my cat as I sent one final text.

**I might like you too. Who knows?**

*THE REAL TONKS AND NEFFI ARE PICTURED BELOW. YES, THEY EXIST. YES, THEY ACT LIKE THEY DO IN THIS STORY.*

TONKS

NEFFI