Lead Player - Alex Grayson Page 0,46
to my stomach at the same time.
“Right after I feed my woman,” he finishes with a chuckle.
“Waffles,” I say. “With chocolate chips.”
“Whatever the lady wants.”
Chapter Twelve
ENZO
Raucous laughter greets me when I walk through the doors of the console room of Tanner Down Music. When the door clicks closed, it quiets down, and all eyes turn toward me.
“Well, it’s about time your ass showed,” Dixon, the drummer for Phenix, says as he twirls a drumstick like it’s a baton.
“Leave him alone, Dix.” Owen, the bass player, slaps Dixon on the back. “I heard through the grapevine he’s finally getting laid. We’re lucky he showed up at all.”
“Fuck you both,” I grunt, dropping my bag on the leather couch. “And butt out of my sex life.”
“At least you have a sex life now.”
I shoot Seth the middle finger on my way to the fridge for a bottle of water.
They’re right though. Up until a year ago, I had a new girl in my bed almost every night. Most of us did. But whereas they continued with their bed hopping, I slowed down, the fun having worn off. While they were having parties in their rooms, I was in mine, getting the much-needed sleep most musicians don’t get while on tour. And the thing is, I never missed the craziness.
“His sex life is still better than yours,” Dixon jests with Seth, earning him a punch to the arm.
While the guys’ ribbing turns on each other, I pull out my notebook. The front cover is ripped and peeling at the corner, and some of the pages are barely hanging on, but this notebook, along with the full ones I have stored at home, are my babies. They carry all my thoughts and lyrics. It’s in these books where I make our music.
Trey, the lead singer and most calm one of the group, walks over. “I can’t believe you actually did it. Fuck, man, aren’t you going to miss it?”
I shrug, falling back on the couch and propping my feet up on the coffee table. “I’m sure I will, but I needed something different. You know I wasn’t in it for the long haul like you guys. I already stayed longer than I intended.”
He takes the other end of the couch, resting his arm along the back, and looks to the guys. “I get it,” he states quietly, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I’ve been wondering lately if it’s time for me to throw in the towel as well.”
His statement doesn’t surprise me. At seventeen, Trey got his sixteen-year-old girlfriend, Melody, pregnant. Instead of doing what a lot of teenage guys would do and refuse to acknowledge her and the baby, he stepped up and insisted on being part of their lives. While still attending school and taking part in the band we started a couple years prior, he got a part-time job to help out. They got married the week after Melody graduated. When Phenix got noticed and Tanner Down signed us, Trey almost refused when he saw we were expected to travel for tours, not wanting to leave his wife and baby. Melody insisted, knowing he’d regret it later. Out on the road, Trey came home every chance he got. He’s a good husband to Melody and an even better father to their daughter.
“You sure you’re ready for that?” I ask my long-time friend.
He blows out a tired breath. “More than ready. I hate being away from Melody and Lucy when we’re out on the road. I’ve missed way too much of Lucy’s life already.”
He’s a bigger man than me. I’m not sure I’d have the will to leave my wife and child at home.
“You do what you have to do, man. Phenix will survive no matter what you decide. And I’m sure the guys will understand.”
“I’m just glad we have a long break before the next tour. I plan to do some soul searching.”
The door opens and Max Tanner strolls in. He and Bennett Down own Tanner Down Music. Phenix owes a lot to them for taking a chance on us, especially Max. He went up against his business partner when Bennett wanted nothing to do with us. Max can be a hard ass, which I expect nothing less from the people in this industry, but thankfully, he’s pretty much left us with creative freedom.
Grabbing my notebook, Trey and I get up from the couch and approach him.
With his hands stuffed in his pockets, he looks at each of us. “I’ve