That Thing You Do! (Multiband Fan Fic)

Chapter 6 - The Plan

Katie's P.O.V

Every two days I would call home, telling Joe what was going on. I haven't told Dylan who Joe is, he just thinks Joe's my guardian. Stevie isn't likely to tell. He's too out of it to even connect the dots. He loves Aerosmith, but Joe is just Joe. Not Joe Perry.
Joe seems to be OK, with this, but I can tell he's a little worried. Stevie spoke to him yesterday, and talked to him for maybe twenty minutes, about all of this and the band. I'm convinced Joe is just going along with it at this point. There is some serious trust between Joe and me.

Day One, Dylan showed us his songs. I have to be completely honest. I love every one. He's got four finished and one on the go. My personal favourite is called 'Look What The Cat Dragged in'. Dylan was impressed by my little solo, so he asked me to play it again. We managed to work it into his song and I had never felt more alive!

Day Two, Stevie showed us the two songs he has, but one wasn't what we were wanting to play, until Dylan mashed it with the half written song he had. Dylan is such a composer. A dickhead composer! He knows what it's going to sound like, before we can even get into the tuning.
That song became 'I Want Action'.
We also sold Stevie's minibus. He was sad to see it go, but we got some good money from it, which we all agree would only be spent on food and gas- Petrol!

Day Three, Dylan got a letter saying he had to leave the premises. It came sooner than anticipated, but it wasn't a problem for us. We were ready for the road.
We went over a few band names, but haven't agreed to one yet. 
The list included: Paris, London (Which Dylan pointed out was already taken), Monroe, Monroe Kings, and Steven. The last one was Stevie just being a nutter, but he got my vote on it, so it was on the list.

Day Four, we started packing stuff into the van. We rehearsed, we wrote, we ordered pizza, we sold Dylan's dingy TV.

Day Five, we had really got to know each other. Dylan was a dickhead, as suspected, but he was warming up to us. He thought Stevie was insane, but not in a mental way, and warned me to never leave him on his own, with Stevie. It was a deal, but he and Stevie were going to take it in turns driving us around.

Day Six, we decided to leave. Everything was packed, we piled into Dylan's van, and we were off. He was driving, I was in the passenger seat and Stevie was sat in the back.
His drum kit was piled into the back, but it was upright, so every now and then we would hear Stevie hit his cymbals or his bass drum, with his foot. It was funny.

We pulled into a service centre for a bite to eat, after two hours. We knew it was going to be a long trip. Nineteen hours and ten plus minutes. We decided to make the most of it, so once we got our meals, we sat at a table and Dylan got his phone out.

"We'll stay in a motel in Chicago, then I'll drive first, taking it in turns, to Ohio. Whilst we are in these places, we'll look for bass players and singers. From Ohio, we'll go to Pennsylvania, you can stop in and see your parents, if you like, Stevie, stay for a night or two. Then! We can drive through New York, again looking for singers and a bassist, if we haven't already found anyone, then onto Boston, where we're staying at yours. Are you sure Joe is good with this, and are you two happy?" Dylan pointed everything out on his phone, as Stevie and I started to eat.
"It's all good, on my end! How many days are we talking?" I asked, looking at the map on Dylan's phone.
"About six or seven nights. You'll be home by next week." Dylan counted it out on his hand.
I nodded. "What are we looking for in singers and bassists, then? I think we should make a list!" I suggested.
"Good idea!" Dylan took his phone back, eating a few fries. He grabbed some paper and a pencil, out of his jacket pocket, and wrote 'Singers' on one side, and 'Bassists' on the other side.

"We need some'un who can sing your songs, so like a... James Hetfield voice, but with Axl Rose's power, and... Elton John's en'gy." Stevie spoke up, sat on Dylan's left.
Dylan nodded. "And no dickheads. I don't want an Eddie Van Halen. No massive egos!" He wrote this all down.
"Agreed! I can't fucking stand Eddie Van Halen." I rolled my eyes. Too big of an ego...
"And f'r bass?" Stevie asked.
"Well, I think we should look for anyone. Glam rock, punk rock, hard rock, classic... Bass can go a long way!" Dylan told us, looking at his notes.
"So, like Duff McKagan, John Deacon, Rick Savage... What about a Nikki Sixx?" I asked.
"I like, but Nikki Sixx did crazy shit. We're taking this seriously. Like Def Leppard! No over doing anything! No drugs, harder than yours!" Dylan turned to Stevie. "No heavy alcohol consumptions, and no traveling around with groupies! If you want a one night stand, make it a one night stand." Dylan warned us.
"Feel like your telling that more to yourself, than us, but I'm agreed! Let's make it about the music!" I smiled, pointing a chip at the guys.
Dylan laughed and we finished our lunch, all in agreement.

We binned our rubbish and piled back in the van, Stevie now driving.
Joe knew I was in Iowa, and laughed when he found out. I'm not really surprised he's taken this so well, as he knows what I'm like. I said I'd be gone one week, it's been two. I've said I'm on my way home, I'm crossing through five or six different states. I swear, people shouldn't let me out on my own. Kirk was right. I'm bad at promises, but I am starting a band.