Kind of a Bad Time

Chapter 3

Erica came over again the next day, Sunday, but she was acting all quiet again, with a tired expression constantly on her face. Anton didn’t really care as long as she kept pushing for the third song, which she did. The second song was wrapped up and finished, and when they all had listened to the final product together she and Anton both didn’t bat an eye while Brad clapped and cheered. Brad kept trying to talk to her but she simply gave him one word answers.

After they finished the recordings, Anton told them his plan. “Someone I know offered us a gig at The Rally Way—I assume you’ve heard of it?” he asked Erica. (“Rally Way? No way, man!” cried Brad.) Erica shook her head. “Well it’s a famous, up-scale night club in Frankfurt that usually has live music. It’s a great opportunity. I can get producers and scouts out there to listen; we can test out the music, practice singing live…It’s a very good idea.”

“That’s crazy, man, why in hell did he ever offer it to you without hearing us?”

“I know the owner.”

“Right. Of course you do. So when is it? Or do we get to pick?”

“It’s Saturday.”

Anton waited for Brad’s excited face to drop. In the music business, it was unheard of for a group to perform even a month after they started, let alone a week. Brad knew Anton was in a rush to get things started, that’s why he’d agreed to start recording so early, but performing only a week later was ridiculous. Anton knew all of this,  but he also couldn’t think of a good enough reason not to take the once in a year performance at The Rally Way. “Saturday? This Saturday?”

“Yes,” Anton said, and Brad’s face morphed into confusion.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I’m not.”

“That’s crazy, Anton, there’s no way we can do that.”

“Why not? We have three songs finished.”

Something clicked in Brad’s brain, and he said through clenched teeth, “May I talk to you out there?” It wasn’t the songwriter or the composer or the manager that would be harmed by early performances—it was the band, the performers, that always needed the time. Because they only had one performer in their…their ‘group’, and because she was abnormally cooperative and unopinionated, Anton was taking advantage of it.

“Be my guest.” And then they both exited out of the music room and shut the door. After a moment, Erica could hear them erupt in an argument through the muffling walls. After a few minutes, she started getting her stuff together to leave.

On her way out, she walked past them, Brad ferociously throwing his hands around and yelling, while Anton crossed his arms over his chest and sat back on his heels. “That’s so unprofessional, Anton! You can’t just use people like that, and she’s so sweet and—“ Brad froze when he saw her. “Are you leaving?”

“Yes.” When nobody said anything else, she continued to walk out of Anton’s door and took the stairs down. After a bit, Anton caught up with her a key ring twirled around his finger, and Brad came running a couple seconds after.

“Hey, I know you walked here. I can drive you home or—or wherever. Where are you going? Work?”

“I can walk,” she said.

“No, I want to drive you. Brad and I, uh, have to go out anyway. So it’s no problem.” She didn’t want to argue with Anton so she let him.

His car was a slick black BMW convertible and he made Brad cram into the back seat and put on dark aviators. He didn’t put the top down and the cockpit was tight with tension radiating from Brad.