SEPTEMBER 24 - 30, 2003
There's an anguish in Ronnie's soul that he cannot deny, but a promise is a promise, so he moves on.
The shows in London were a success and things were only minimally awkward between himself and Brandon for the next day, and things naturally resolved themselves by the time they were home. Still, Ronnie can't help but wonder that if he had just said something different, the outcome would have changed. He should have known better than to spring it on Brandon like that.
The rejection stung and his mind forces him to play it back over and over despite how much he'd like to forget it. Some good has come from it, though, because now he has a chance. He's not quite sure if he and Brandon are courting now or what. Maybe it's a Mormon thing. Pre-dating. Is that disrespectful?
As he contemplates these things, Ronnie gets a call on his cell. It's Dave.
"Hey, man," he answers, standing from where he had been practicing his instrument.
"Ronnie!" Daves sounds excited. Ronnie grabs a bottle of water from a fridge and goes to stand by the open garage door-it's only a cool eighty degrees at the moment and there's a slight breeze.
"I'm happy to hear from you," Ronnie starts, "but I thought you said you wanted a week of relaxation away from us."
"I've got some great news from Braden."
"Oh," now he's intrigued, "what's our dear old manager cooked up for us this time?"
"Well," he can practically hear Dave smirking, "you know that ASCAP thing?"
"No way," Ronnie responds. "We're in?"
"Uh-huh, CMJ on the twenty-second next month."
Ronnie can hardly believe the news. The upcoming tour opening for British Sea Power (and touring in the U.K. before the U.S. in general) was ridiculous enough to feel believable, but the CMJ conference? That was real. The number of label representatives that would be there are impossible to count. Dave and Braden had really done the impossible by getting them in.
"Holy shit, okay, okay," he looks around as if someone will suddenly appear to present him with an award, but the garage is empty. "Man, I bet Brandon freaked when he found out," he smiles.
"I don't think he knows, actually," Dave says, nonchalantly. "Braden called this morning-and so did I-but we got no answer."
"Oh," Ronnie pauses. It feels wrong to know about this before their frontman, especially because he knows that Brandon would probably find a great relief in knowing about the showcase. "Maybe he's at work."
"Yeah, I figured," Dave says. "Well, I just wanted to let you know so that you can update the website. Gotta get the word out there."
"Sure, I'll get right to that," Ronnie furrows his brows, still flummoxed about the situation with Brandon. He's usually good about answering the phone.
He and Dave share goodbyes only after Dave announces that his vacation is now back in full swing and that the next band meeting will be a week from today. Ronnie wastes no time dialing Brandon's number once Dave lets him go.
It rings. And rings. And rings.
"Hello! This is, um, my cell. Brandon's cell. I'm not available at the moment so feel free to leave a message or try my home phone. For inquiries about The Killers, email us at... you know what? Just call Dave."
Ronnie's gonna need to talk to him about that voicemail greeting. He hangs up before the tone and considers calling Brandon's other phone. Or even the Gold Coast. Or sending him a message on AIM.
YOU ARE READING
Hopeless Haze - Volume I: Hot Fuss (Remastered)
Romance"If Brandon cared, he would wonder if Ronnie was also deep in thought about something and has only just absentmindedly found something for his hands to play with. But as Ronnie runs his fingers through his hair, Brandon finds that he does not care a...
