Chapter Text
Sitting in my small apartment in downtown Chicago, I’ve decided that maybe take-out will be my best option for dinner. I don’t have anything to cook and I don’t really feel like going out. It’s hard to tell what sort of people I would run into. It could be fans, or it could always be reporters. While fans wouldn’t bother me, I might have a few choice words for the wrong sort of reporter today.
I’m so comfortable that I don’t even want to reach forward when my iPhone starts going off. I actually let out a groan at the mere idea of moving, but Connie’s ringtone is something that I can’t ignore. It could be something important. I dig my palms into the arms of my chair and push myself forward. I swipe the phone from its spot on the coffee table and swipe my thumb across the screen to answer.
“Yeah?”
“Marco! I wasn’t sure that you’d answer.”
“I almost didn’t,” I reply, plopping back down into my precious position. The only thing that’s changed is this time I have a cell phone pressed to my ear.
“I would have kicked your ass out of the band.”
“That’s a lie,” I say, a smirk working its way across my face.
“Well it would sure give me an excuse to,” Connie says with a laugh. “Damn you though for calling my bluff. See, even you know how much we need you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter. My cheeks are heated and if Connie was in the room, I probably wouldn’t be making eye contact with him. As much as I know that the statement is true, sometimes it’s still hard for me to accept. I’m not exactly the king of self-confidence. “Anyway, what do you want? You never call unless you need something.”
“I need you to come out with me tonight.”
“No.”
“Marco, you don’t even know what I want you to do,” Connie whines. I give a roll of my eyes. Does he actually think that will work on me?
“I don’t care,” I reply. “I don’t want to move from this chair.”
“But, Marco, hear me out at least. There’s a new band. Well, they’re not new, but they just started getting hype. I think they might be the kind of sound we’re looking for at Titan.”
“So you need me to come help you look at a band you want to sign? Why not ask Thomas or Franz?”
I know the answer even before the question has full fallen from my lips. It’s because Connie values my opinion more than anyone else in the band. I still haven’t figured out why. But I was the deciding factor in signing our newest group, Vertigo. Connie didn’t even start talking contracts with them until I gave the okay. Connie is perfectly capable of signing a band on his own. He knows the label better than anyone. He founded it for crying out loud, but Connie always seems to need validation that he’s making a good decision. It doesn’t happen often. Connie is picky about who he signs to Titan. I don’t blame him. We’re where we are today because of that factor alone.
“Marco, come on. It’s a small band. Two members I think. They’re still looking for a drummer. But even without a permanent addition to their line-up, they’re getting noticed,” Connie explains. He sounds excited.
“Who is it? Any chance that I’ve heard of them?”
“They’re called Potential Disaster,” Connie tells me. “One of their demos came across my desk the other day.”
“What do you mean by “came across your desk”?”
I know that it’s never that easy. Everyone that’s ever been signed to the label has somehow gotten in contact with Connie and harassed him until he gave them a chance. Sometimes it paid off, other times Connie had to tell them to hit the road. And as far as I know, I’m the only exception. I never really thought that I would make it big.
I mean, I dreamed about it. What artist doesn’t? There were nights where I thought about nothing but the fans screaming in sold-out stadiums that I would never play. Sometimes the very idea of having a number one song on the Billboard Top One Hundred was the only thing swirling around in my head.
But it was never about that. It’s always been about the music. If I had been destined to play in bars for twenty dollars a night for the rest of my life that would have been okay with me. But here I am, a member of one of the hottest bands in the country and there’s no going back.
When I joined A Mutual Addiction, they were nothing but a bunch of kids playing sad, punk rock in Connie Springer’s garage. I really can’t talk. I was playing sad, punk rock in crappy pubs in downtown Chicago. Anyway, they had barely got their footing at all. Connie found me in a bar one night and he didn’t hesitate to approach me. I thought I was wasting my time by showing up to see how I worked with the band. Connie had all these obnoxious dreams about starting his own record company and getting the band’s first record out there. I wasn’t one to hate on anyone’s dreams. I had enough ridiculous ones myself, but everything that Connie was telling me sounded almost impossible. But when I got there, it was clear they had talent. They just needed the right guy to front them. I can’t believe Connie thought that person was me. I had asked Connie why he didn’t take the spot as lead singer. Admittedly, it would probably be easier for him to find a lead guitarist, that’s when the entire band burst into a fit of laughter. Connie couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, apparently.
Okay. So there was that. I still didn’t get why Connie thought that I might be the best choice for the vision that he had in his head. I’m shy and timid at best on stage. I can’t even stare out at a crowd for too long without wanting to show them my regurgitated dinner. He didn’t know that and I didn’t intend to tell him. He could find out later.
It didn’t take me long to figure out that they needed a lyricist. Connie could only manage so much on his own. Some of the stuff that they had was good, but I could make it better. I may not have the most confidence of anyone that I’ve ever met, but I knew and I still know that the lyrics that I write are great.
Long story short, I did end up being just what the band needed. I meshed well with the guys and I have the vocals that they need. And as it turned out, Connie’s dream wasn’t so far-fetched. He ended up getting that record company up and running in almost no time and our first album dropped not long after.
It wasn’t over night by any means, but we did blow up. People ate up our music and begged for more. Not just from us. Connie ended up signing some other bands and we’re actively searching all of the time. It’s no different now that we’re getting ready to drop our fourth album. We have a huge tour planned with two other bands on our label. The moment we announce it, I know the fans are going to go crazy. I feel like I haven’t been on the road in forever even though it’s only been a little over a year, but that’s long enough for me. I’m always itching to go new places and give back to the people that have put us here. In my opinion, it’s the only thing as good as getting to make music for a living.
“I mean that one of their demos literally came across my desk. I don’t know who left it there, but someone did. I sort of tucked it away. I didn’t really feel like listening to it at the time if I’m being honest. But that’s not the point. Anyway, a couple weeks after that I started hearing about them. I saw some flyers for them and I knew that I had heard that name. So I went to my office and I found the demo and I listened to it and Marco, they’re incredible.”
“And you want to check them out live before you contact them?”
“Exactly! You know how I am. Please say you’ll go. They’re playing downtown tonight. You won’t even have to go that far. And I promise you if they suck, I’ll let you leave early.”
I let out a sigh. I can’t say no to Connie. Besides, these guys might actually be good. “All right,” I finally say. “I’ll go with you.”
“Fuck yes,” Connie whispers into the receiver. “I knew that you would say yes. All right. We need to be there by seven-thirty. Want me to pick you up or will you meet me there?”
“I’ll get there. Just tell me where I’m going.”
***
“What a shitty little bar,” Connie says as we approach the door. It’s tucked away on the side of a building, hidden by an alley and a much larger restaurant next to it. I’m surprised that the place even has business. This was the kind of venue that I used to play. I don’t know if I feel nostalgia or something different entirely, but it sure brings back memories.
“This is the kind of thing I used to do, remember? You found me in a little dump like this,” I tell him, reaching up and readjusting my hat. It’s my shield. If it’s out in public or on the stage, it’s how I protect myself from the things that I don’t want to see. I can get rid of the crowd with a tip of my hat and I feel much better.
“Found a fucking diamond in a pile of garbage is what I did,” Connie says with a grin, tossing an arm around me and pulling me a bit closer.
“Well maybe you’ll get lucky again,” I say with a smile.
As much as Connie irritates me sometimes, I couldn’t ask for a better best friend. He’s been there for me since the moment I joined the band for good. He’s helped me with my stage fright. He let me know that my shyness is okay, and so much else. He’s done wonders for my self-esteem and I could never thank him enough, even though I try.
“Why don’t we find out?” Connie asks and he pushes the door open and we step into the pub.
The inside isn’t much better than the outside. It’s a bit rundown. The tables have obviously been in use for at least a decade. Whether that’s the look they were going for or not, I don’t know. There’s a way to make things looked aged and actually having them in use for any extended amount of time isn’t the way to go. There are things hanging from the walls, old, broken records, beaten up, crinkled and framed black and whites of the greats.
“They must be desperate,” Connie mutters, looking around at the place. “This place looks like a dumpster from another bar threw up on it.”
I simply nod in agreement. The place, despite the way it looks, is decently crowded. The chatter of the patrons is enough to cover up anything negative that Connie and I have to say about the bar’s appearance or the band.
“Let’s get a seat,” I mutter, making my way through the tables and settling at a high top in the back of the building. The lights on the stage are dimmed and I can see the faint outline of a guitar, a bass mic stands, and a laptop set up on a cart. They must be using Band in a Box since they don’t have a drummer.
I have to admit, I’m sort of excited to see these guys, whoever they are. I’ve never been pulled out to see a band live with Connie. I usually give the okay after they come and perform again in the studio. He must think that these guys really have potential.
“Are they from Chicago?”
“No,” Connie says. “That’s why I wanted to drag you out to see them. They’re not from around here. Apparently they’re from some hick-ass town in Maine or something. Got some money saved up and came out to try and make it big. This is apparently their last night here.”
“And you want to catch them before they head out,” I reply, not removing my eyes from the darkened, dinky stage.
“Bingo,” Connie replies. “If we like them enough, we can extend them the cash to stay here a couple extra nights so we can talk contracts and stuff.”
“I’ve haven’t heard you be so sure about a band since you started the company, man,” I say, finally glancing back over at my friend.
“I should have let you listen to the demo, Marco,” Connie says. “These guys, they’re incredible. I think they could really make it big. They just need the right outlet. I think that we can help them.”
I don’t respond. I hear the light strumming of a guitar and I know that they set is about to start. As notes start to pour from fingers across strings, I can’t help but think about how Connie took a chance on me. If it hadn’t been for that, I wouldn’t be where I am today. I hope that Connie can help these guys. For their sake, I hope that they’re good.
The lights come up on the tiny stage, revealing the two boys that created Potential Disaster. The singer’s voice is just the right mix of smooth and raspy, and he can hold a note like it’s nobody’s business. I focus on the dark haired singer for a moment. He’s got the stage presence and the voice and the look. Let’s just hope the other boy is up to par.
My gaze eventually shifts to the other guitarist, his fingers dancing elegantly along the frets of his bass. I slowly allow my eyes to settle on his face. He’s handsome. That’s the first thing that I notice. Good bone structure, nice cheekbones, and a cute undercut resting on the top of his head. And the way he plays his instrument is memorizing. I find myself hoping that the beautiful sounds that I’m hearing are real and not just something I’ve cooked up in my head because I’m mesmerized by the boy in my sights.
I’m watching him, studying him. His lips fall open to sing background lyrics and I feel like my heart is racing. I didn’t expect to be attracted to one of the members of this up and coming band, but here I am, staring down the blonde boy with no shame. I’m sure that Connie has noticed by now, and I’m not sure that I care.
“What do you think?”
Connie’s voice is what finally brings me out of my trance. I turn to look at him, simply nodding my head. “They’re incredible,” I manage to get out over the sounds of cheering in the small bar.
“They’re more than incredible!” Connie exclaims. “Are you nuts? I think that we just found our next group. We gotta go talk to them after the show.”
I instantly start shaking my head. Connie is the one in this band that handles the business. In no way, shape or form, am I one to go and help get a band signed to the label. I’ll do nothing but stumble on my words and make myself look like an idiot. I know that it would be even worse if I was in the presence of that guy. “You can go. I’ll just say here while you do it.”
“No. No. No. You’re not getting away from me that easily,” Connie says. “You came here. You should have known what you were signing up for if they were good. Got it?”
I sigh, giving a shrug of my shoulders in return. “Fine,” I reply, raising my voice a little as the next song starts. “But if I scare them off, it’s your fault, not mine.”
“Don’t be such a worry wart, Bodt,” Connie insists, reaching over and giving me a pat on the shoulder. “Have a little more faith in yourself. You charm the socks off of everyone that you meet.”
“Trust me,” I say. “It’s not intentional.”
“I know it’s not,” Connie says, waving over the nearest server. He must want something to drink. “But we need your little charming smile and kind words to get to them. They might have offers lined up around the block. You never know.”
I simply give a simple nod of my head, deciding that it’s best not to argue with Connie. It does no good and as far as I’m concerned, we need them on the label anyway. I’m not just saying that because I think the guitarist is hot either. I genuinely think that these boys have talent and if there’s one thing that Titan Records has, it’s talent. We need to add a little more of that in. We can help them make it big, and from what I’m hearing, they deserve it.
***
“How do we even know that they’ll talk to us?”
“All I’ve got to do is give them my card,” Connie says, waving me off with his hand. I roll my eyes for what feels like the millionth time tonight. Connie always thinks that he has everything figured out. And sometimes, he does. Other times, he wings it. He’s gotten more bands on the label with dumb luck than I would have thought possible.
The boys are packing up as we approach them. I hear the dark haired one muttering about something to the hot one and I feel my heart constrict in my chest for a moment. I’m not usually the kind to get instantly attracted to another human being because for all I know, they could be a huge jerk. But there’s something about this boy standing a few feet away from me. I want to get to know him, whether we end up signing Potential Disaster or not.
The boy I’ve been eyeing is the first one to notice us. He looks at us, slack jawed and wide-eyed as we come closer. He digs his elbow into his bandmate’s side and I hear the darker haired boy yelp in pain.
“Jean, what the fuck was that for?” he hisses out.
Jean, as the other boy called him, doesn’t say anything. He simply points at us and I can feel the shyness start settling in. I want to avoid even looking at the two boys as we finally end up standing before them.
“Holy shit,” the dark haired boy says as he looks up. He instantly straightens himself up and wipes some of the remaining sweat from his brow. I glance over at Jean again, before I decide that my gaze is best directed towards the floor.
I end up gazing over at Connie when he finally decides to speak. “Hello. Name’s Connie Springer, founder of Titan Records. This is Macro Bodt,” he says, lightly nudging me with his arm.
I look up from the ground long enough to give them a wave. I hate meeting new people. I’m good with people that I already know and fans. Fans I can deal with, but when it has to do with business or something unrelated, I become shy and defenseless and I hate it. I’ve been like this with every band that we’ve ever brought to the label. I just hope that I can get to know these boys as well as I have the others. I’m cool around them now. I’m almost a completely different person. I wish I could be that version of me all of the time.
“Hey,” I mange to say, giving the two boys my most genuine smile. They seem nice enough. That helps me loosen up just a little bit. I suddenly feel like I can breathe correctly again.
“We know who you are. I’m Jean and this is Eren,” Jean says, a huge grin on his face. “We’re big fans. Went to see you on your last tour.”
“More than once,” the Eren admits. “You guys are amazing. Probably some of our biggest inspiration.”
I can’t speak for Connie, or for the rest of the bad, but these are the things that make all of our hard work worth it for me. Hearing that A Mutual Addiction has actually inspired other artists out there, it make my heart feel like it’s soaring.
“Really?” I ask as a smile works its way onto my lips. “Wow. Thank you, guys. You’re incredible.”
Jean looks as if he’s about to pass out once the words tumble out of my mouth and Eren actually clutches at his chest as if he can’t breathe. I want to laugh, but I don’t. I understand their excitement to a point. I still get star-struck and I’ve been in the business for a good while now.
“I…you guys really think so?” Jean manages to get out. He can’t hide the grin that’s breaking out across his face. I feel another one inching its way across my own and my heart swell inside of my chest. This is bad. If they get signed, I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hide the fact that I’m attracted to the guy.
“Hell yeah we do!” Connie exclaims, pulling a card from his pocket and handing to Jean. “One of your demos came across my desk somehow…”
“I…uh…that was probably our friend Mikasa,” Eren says. “You guys know her. She’s on your label.”
“I’ll be damned,” Connie says with a laugh. “Mikasa’s a sneaky one. Anyway, I didn’t listen to it right off, not until you guys started your little Chicago tour.”
“You guys heard about us?” Jean asks. He’s trying not to show it, but the more that Connie talks, the more excited that he’s getting. Jean’s not stupid. I can tell that. He knows exactly where this conversation is going and so does Eren.
“We did,” Connie says with a nod. “And good thing we did too. We heard this was your last night in Chicago.”
“Yeah,” Eren mutters. “Sort of running out of money. We stayed longer than we planned based on the pay we were getting from shows, but that only goes so far and we haven’t really gotten anywhere.”
“Well, boys, then today is your lucky day,” Connie says. “I want to invite you guys down to the studio. Get you in with a couple test drummers and talk about contracts. What do you guys say?”
“Wait. Are you serious or are you just messing with us?” Jean asks, stepping forward, an incredulous tone to his voice before Eren can jump up and holler an answer of yes. I could tell it was coming. It was practically hanging on the tip of his tongue.
“Connie doesn’t kid when it comes to signing,” I decided to butt in. I have a feeling that Jean isn’t taking Connie seriously and sometimes that’s the problem with some of the bands that he tries to add to the label. They think that Connie is jerking them around and they take their business elsewhere. I don’t want to chance it with these boys. “He’s picky when it comes to adding bands to the label.”
“And you’re really interested in us?”
“Please, Jean,” I say. I don’t know what comes over me. I don’t like the whole self doubt thing that’s radiating off of him. I might be the pot calling the kettle black here, but it doesn’t work on Jean. “You guys know that you’re good. You wouldn’t have come out here looking to try and make it if you thought you sucked. Take the card, take the offer and show up at the studio tomorrow. Sound good?”
Eren starts laughing and Jean’s mouth is hanging open again. I think that if I could see Connie’s face it would be a lot similar to Jean’s. I never get like this. I never get feisty with people that I barely know, but Jean needed the push. I wasn’t going to let any self doubt get in the way of his dream. I almost did and I know what a huge mistake that would have been.
Jean nods his head, taking a step backwards until he’s settled beside Eren again, turning the card over in his hands. “We’d love to, but we don’t really have the money to stay another night.”
“Don’t worry about it. Tell me where you’re staying and we’ll take care of it,” Connie says.
As Connie and the boys exchange information, I can’t help but take a look at the boys again. I see so much of myself in them. Young hopefuls hoping to get their big break. Jean almost didn’t take a chance just because he was a little skeptical of the fact that the label was interested in them.
Once they’re done, we bid them goodbye and head back out of the dingy pub and onto the streets of Chicago.
“Hey, Marco,” Connie says as soon as we’ve walked a few blocks from the bar. “I know you know this was coming, but what was that back there?”
I take a deep breath and stop walking, turning to look at Connie. “Listen, I never told you this, but do you know I almost didn’t show up to the band audition when you found me in that bar years ago?”
Connie’s eyes widen. He clearly had no idea. “What? Why not?”
“Because I almost convinced myself that I wasn’t good enough. I knew, deep in me, that I was, but the moment that someone approached me and offered me a shot at my dream, I panicked. I thought you might have been taking me for a ride and you could have been, but I took a chance anyway. Despite the fact that I have lower than low self-esteem, I know the one good thing about me is my voice and my music. I didn’t let doubt hold me back. I didn’t want that Jean guy to say no and live a life full of regret wondering what might have been if he had only told that record guy “yes”.”
Connie doesn’t say anything. He simply looks at me for the longest time. I guess, surprisingly, that I’ve left the guy speechless. I don’t give him time for a reaction. I tell him that I’ll see him tomorrow and I start heading back to my apartment.
Something’s gotten into me and I don’t quite know what it is, but if I could only be like I was back at the bar all of the time, I’d probably be even happier than I already am. I try to think of anything else as I shove the keys into my front door and nearly stumble inside, but I can’t. I don’t know why, but I can’t get Jean out of my head. I don’t know it’s because I think he’s hot or if it’s because I want his band to be successful, whatever it is, he’s the last thing I think of as I lay down to go to sleep, wondering what tomorrow’s studio session will bring.