Sweat ran down the side of his face. Drew wiped it away with the towel hanging around his neck. Since the night he’d opened the door to letting the other band members share the limelight, he’d been thinking of ways to switch things up and keep it going. But it would take a lot of work to make this equal sharing venture a success. They had to keep the quality of their music high. Make their sound as pure rock as they could.
If he was truly honest with himself, he had to admit he’d been ready to get off the merry-go-round of wild, screaming women for a while now. It was time for this change. They’d already signed a contract. They could still do some of the things they’d done to make the band popular with the ladies. But to be more than a flash in the pan, they had to be a real band and he had to be a real lead singer. In other words he had to turn his Siren off or at least tone it down.
He played a chord. “Let’s take it from the bridge, guys.”
“Why are you pushing us like this, man? Rand asked. “We’ve arrived. We’ve signed a contract. We’re going to record our music and have cash rolling in.” The drummer had shoved a sweatband around his head to keep the streaming sweat out of his eyes, but his muscular arms gleamed with it and his T-shirt clung damply.
Drew had wondered when one of the guys would ask. He’d been waiting for it to happen. It came as no surprise that Rand was the one to challenge him. It was in the man’s nature to push back if he was pushed. Though all of their work demanded some stamina, Rand’s demanded more physically, and Drew had been pushing him steadily for hours.
“Let’s take five and talk for a few minutes,” Drew suggested. He dragged his chair from behind the keyboard and set it close to Rand’s drums so the drummer wouldn’t have to move. Drew jumped off the stage and went around the bar to get four bottles of water.
Simon sauntered over with some folding chairs from the wings, flipped them open, and positioned them so he and Tony could sit down. They slouched into the chairs as though they were as grateful for the break as Rand.
Drew tossed a bottle to Rand and the drummer caught it, cracked it, and downed half of it. Drew handed one to Tony and Simon, then settled in his seat, twisted the cap off and took a slow drink while he wondered how to start the conversation. They had a winning ticket already, and he was about to rock the boat in a big way.
“The other night when I was running the fever, you guys were rockin’ some good music. You really pulled together. We felt more like a band than we had in a while. I know when we first started, we made the decision for me to take the singing lead, but did you notice how many men wandered in during the second half of the show?”
“I noticed,” Tony said. “The whole back row was filled with more couples than single women.”
He could always count on Tony for support. Drew nodded. “Because of a gimmick, my gimmick, we’ve played to a single demographic, women, and ignored the other half of the audience. It’s kept us in gigs and brought in enough money for us to support ourselves, so it’s nothing to shrug off. But if we don’t appeal to a wider audience—even though we’ve signed a contract with a record studios, they won’t renew us if the sales aren’t there.”
He turned his attention to Rand. “So that’s why I’ve been pushing, Rand. We need that wider audience, so we can keep the contracts coming. I don’t want us to be a flash in the pan. I’d like to see us still rockin’ in twenty years, like the Stones, Wings, or Aerosmith. They’ve lasted because they created a sound, but were able to transition in style enough to appeal to a changing audience.”
“I think we can ride this first contract into more if we work hard enough,” Simon said, shooting Drew a nod.
“And the gimmick you were talking about?” Rand asked.
How had Rand missed the way the women reacted to his voice? But then he was sitting behind the drums every night keeping a steady beat, and since men weren’t affected—maybe he really had been oblivious to it.
Now that he’d opened this particular can of worms, where the hell was he supposed to go with it?
Simon leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers. “Drew projects a sexual vibe with his voice, Rand. All the women love it. You’ve watched how they respond to him when he’s singing.”
Hopefully Simon only meant sexual vibe like Elvis, or other singers known for their sex appeal. But then how could any of the guys not be aware of something hinky? Had he really thought he was kidding anyone? Even Sam was wary of him these days.
Tony jumped into the silence. “And sex is a powerful thing. But we need to be able to trigger other emotions with our music to bring in the male audience.”
Drew relaxed a little. “Each of you need your own solo moments during performances.”
“But you’re still the voice, Drew,” Tony insisted. “None of us can do what you can, vibe or no vibe. Your voice is what sold the recording executives on the band.”
So they were back to square one again. “But it’s going to take some major backup music and songwriting to keep us in their sights, Tony. You and Rand are the ones who are strongest in that department.”
Silence hung between them for a beat then two. “I’ve been working on some stuff,” Rand volunteered, almost reluctantly. “I thought it might be too hard core for us, but if you guys are game…”
Simon’s face broke out into a smile. “Nothing’s off limits, Rand. Show us what you got.”
Rand went to one of the drum cases offstage, returning with a thick stack of sheet music. “I’m not as good with lyrics as Tony or you Drew, so some of it doesn’t have lyrics yet. And most of it needs more work.”
He handed each of them a song. Drew studied the sheet music Rand had given him, scanning each line, with first caution, then excitement. He got up and went to the keyboard, spreading the sheets out across the music stand. He played through the introduction and on into the piece. Rand joined him at the keyboard, and they worked out changes he thought needed to be made as Drew fattened the chords to make the piece sound fuller.
Tony and Simon worked together on some partial lyrics that might work.
The practice turned into a brainstorming session. After an hour, Drew handed Rand the sheet music with all their notations to take home and clean up on the computer.
It was when they were stashing their instruments and turning off the electronics, Rand said, “Hey, Tony, want to go back to my place? While we’re hot, we might as well try to finish this thing. I’d like a shot at helping with the lyrics.”
“Sure.”
The two left as the early shift of wait staff started trickling in to set up for the evening. Drew flipped off his keyboard and organized his workspace, then looked up as Simon approached him.
He didn’t beat around the bush. “Something’s changed for you.”
“Yeah.”
He smirked. “Does it have anything to do with a beautiful blonde?”
“Yeah, some.” Drew looked down at the keyboard. Simon was as close a friend as he’d ever had. How had he ever hoped to hide what he was from him?
“The way you’re encouraging the band to be a band, to work through ideas… Whatever influence she’s having on you, it’s working for you.”
“So you’re saying I’ve stopped being a controlling asshole, hogging the limelight?”
Simon grinned. “Yeah.”
Drew laughed. He could always count on Simon to be completely honest. “I’ve been thinking about a change for a long time. Felt restless and dissatisfied, long before Roma and I broke up. Then I met Katrina. She can’t hear what we play, can’t hear me sing, but she recognized what was going on from the start. She said it was a cheating. That I needed to use the music instead of my vibe to make a living. Or words to that effect.”
Simon’s expression grew serious. “It’s time we all started pulling our weight instead of letting you pull it for us. We can handle it.”
“I’m counting on it. I’d like to move forward in the direction we’re going.”
“So what’s it like to try to win a lady over without the extra mojo?” Simon asked.
Drew laughed and shook his head. “Tough. I’m on rocky ground most of the time. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
“Join the club, pal. It took me six months to get Brianna to admit she loved me. I walked around terrified it would never happen, and that some other guy was going to catch her eye.”
He was beginning to understand that concept himself. Until Katrina was bonded to him, she could turn to someone else and leave him yearning for her the rest of his life. He couldn’t let that happen. “You’ve never said anything about my vibe before.”
“You’ve never acknowledged it actually existed before, either. Are you going to tell us where it comes from? How you discovered you had it?”
Drew swallowed. “It’s a genetic gift passed down from my Dad. And I discovered I had it in high school.”
“And how often did you use it?” Simon pushed.
Drew ran a hand along his jaw. “After the first time? Never. I ended up with a group of stalkers. I didn’t use it again until we got the band together and were really struggling. Afterward I got caught up in the hype, the money, and, yeah, the women. But for a while now…” He raked his fingers through his hair.
“It’s been a burden, Simon.” He’d never spoken so openly about this to anyone. “And now that I’ve found Katrina…”
“Yeah, I understand what you’re getting at.” Simon stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked away. “Brianna’s never been crazy about the screaming meemies. That’s what she calls the other women. She stopped coming to our shows because it made her feel…aroused.”
For the first time, Drew understood what Katrina had tried to explain to him. How had Simon felt, knowing Drew had been making love to his wife with his voice? What did it say about the whole situation if Simon’s wife couldn’t come to a show, or Katrina couldn’t drop in for the same reason?
“I’m sorry, Simon. When we get all this sorted out, maybe you can get Brianna to come back to hear the new us.”
“I’d like that.” Drew could hear his relief.
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“The same reason you decided to keep doing it. The money. Once Bree and I got married, I had responsibilities. And now with the baby coming…” He swallowed. “If things start going south, what will you do, Drew?”
“It isn’t going to happen. We’re going to work our fucking nuts off and get everything going full speed ahead. The other night, when you guys took over, it brought people in. The atmosphere had a different vibe, didn’t it? And we still made money.”
Simon expression cleared. “Yeah, we did.”
“We’re good without the gimmick.”
“We need to be great, Drew.” He heard Simon’s stress.
“We’ll get there. You have more talent in your little finger than the rest of us put together. Rand’s on board, and Tony always is. We need to up our game, and maybe these new songs Rand’s been working on will help us do that. We’re not going down before we’ve had an opportunity to prove ourselves.”
“Damn straight.” Simon gripped his shoulder. “I’m going home to check on my lady. It’s getting close, and I get nervous every time I leave her. She’s started her maternity leave and is taking things easy.”
“Good. Tell her I send my best, and if you need me, call. You know where I am.”
Simon gripped his hand and they bumped shoulders in a man hug. “Later, man.”
Drew nodded. “See you tonight.”
He was halfway to his apartment before it sank in that he’d actually told the band about himself. Not everything, but one of the big pieces that made him what he was, who he was. And they had accepted it and moved on. No big deal.
He pulled into his parking slot at the apartment complex, turned off the car, and sat for a moment He felt lighter, as though he’d dropped a two-ton weight from his shoulders.
Now if they could just hit their stride as a band without his special mojo, as Simon had called it… And if they couldn’t? What then? The guys had gotten used to making a living with their music. Those added responsibilities Simon was talking about boomeranged right back on Drew’s shoulders as much as Simon’s. If they couldn’t make it, they’d turn it back on him. He’d only have himself to blame, too. He should have never started using his Siren gift.