Selena: Changing The Past

Chapter: 30

Crimson Red Hotel

"What have I told you?" Abraham reprimanded with furrowed brows and face contorted into seriousness.

"I know." A.B sighed, briefly turning his attention to the ground before returning it to his father. "But if we don't let the guys blow off some steam, they won't last the rest of the tour."

Abraham scoffed, pointing at the door located on the second floor. "When they are with us, they represent us. They represent our family, A.B."

"Dad, I kn-"

"They can blow off steam on their own time, not on mine." He interrupted. "Got it?"

A.B frowned, the corners of his mouth pointed downwards, vertical wrinkles appearing between his eyebrows. "I do understand, however that seems unfair on your part. There's barely any time for the guys to blow off steam without having to spend the majority of the time practicing and performing."

"Listen, son, I'm not going to spend the rest of the time arguing with you about this." Abraham rebuked. "Especially since I have news from Jose."

Upon hearing that, A.B stared at his father with confusion, prompting him to continue. "What for?"

Abraham patted his son on the back. "Come here."

The duo made their way into the parking lot, unaware of two individuals, silently, making their way to Big Bertha.

"I was coming to tell you that I just spoke with Behar. He's gonna have some bigwigs from the pop world come and see us at the TMAs to help us get the crossover record."

A.B briefly smiled. "That's good. That's good, right?"

"Yes, but I want us to show them something that they haven't seen yet," Abraham informed.

"I know, I've been working on some new son-"

"No, something different," Abraham interjected.

The bass player quirked an eyebrow, bewilderment lace in his tone. "More different?"

"Something they could imagine us doing on an English record. Modern." Abraham answered.

"But in Spanish, still?" A.B deduced.

Before Abraham could reply, a loud bang was heard from the opposite side of the tour bus. The father and son shortly looked at each other.

"What was that?" Abraham asked, getting ready to make his way over to Big Bertha to see what caused the commotion.

A.B shrugged his shoulders, stopping him. "Probably some raccoons like last time. You already know they are looking for food."

Eyeing the tour bus with slight suspicion, he let out a small nod. Pm"Anyways, as I was saying. Of course, in Spanish."

"Okay, so by when?"

"Well, we have to write it, record it, rehearse it." Abraham raised his hand, lifting each of his fingers as he named them. "So..."

"Now."

"Yes, now."

A.B let an exasperated sigh - his stress resurfacing all over again. He pursed his lips. Not only did he have to create a song for Selena that will impress everyone at the TMAs, but their Ven Conmigo album hasn't been released yet.

Abraham, noticing his son's distress, soften his gaze, and placed his hands on his shoulders, comforting him. "You got this, son. I know you can pull this through - the same way you've been able to push past the obstacles throughout our band's career."