Never Signing Off

  War With Words It's only been four days since Frankie made the band announcement. Charlie has been spending every minute practicing his guitar. He is really fine-tuning his sound. I give him another day or two before he'll be ready to join Crystal and Jared on stage. Charlie laughs every time he messes up a chord, but I feel like I'm wasting my time. I am not getting the hang of the bass. There was a day off between Boise and Portland, which Jared dedicated to showing me the basics. I understand the idea, how to make the sound, but putting it into practice has proven difficult. I didn't really expect I'd catch on that quickly. I haven't even learned what the notes are called. But I still hoped I'd have a better sound by now. Charlie tried to make me feel better by saying he already played his instrument. I countered him, saying I learned to play the bass when I was living with Luke. Frankie believes my heart is in music. I asked him why he w...

  Uncertain Future We found a small diner at the heart of the city, arriving just before the dinner rush. The restaurant was a cute Italian place with a red and green theme. The staff was dressed in black uniforms, wearing the name of the restaurant in bright red lettering across the chest. It wasn't deserted, either. Most of the tables were full. But, the management came to the front of the house to personally seat us. Frankie gets recognized everywhere we go, after all. “ I'd like a bottle of champagne.” He orders as we're sitting down. The waiter nods, darting off to the bar. The owner comes over to the table with five menus, handing them to each of us. He's an older gentleman in his late 40's. He has graying hair with bald patches on both sides. He's got a well-groomed mustache on his chubby face. He pairs it with a wide smile and sparkling eyes. “ Let me know when you're ready to order.” He announces, heading to another table. There's a ...

  Studio Time Frankie booked a practice space for the day off in Salt Lake City. Having read his contract over, I knew he had agreed to put together an outline of the album. The record label wanted him to fast-track something they could sell. It was one of the only things they asked for in order to sign him. I don't understand why he's brought all of us in to the space with him. It's a wide practice space, with a variety of instruments scattered around the room. “ It belongs to a friend of mine, so, he let me have it.” He assures, motioning around. Crystal immediately bolts to the drum kit. She drops down, scooping up a set of sticks laying on the floor. She starts wailing on that thing like her life might depend on it. “ I didn't know you knew how to play the drums.” Frankie observes. Crystal shrugs, lightly tapping the sticks on her knee. “ I taught myself when I was 10.” She answers loosely. “ Try the piano.” Frankie suggests, sitting down...

  The Book If you watch the trees for long enough, you might believe they could come to life. Pull their roots out of the ground and stomp along the highway. The branches lightly swaying as they propel forward. The sound of the leaves rustling creates a whisper that sounds like words if you're listening close enough. Right now, I can only hear the hum of the bus underneath me. These bunks are more comfortable than the last ones we were on. No memory foam this time. I'm sitting in the lounge with my legs pulled to my chest. Everyone else is asleep right now, but I just couldn't get my mind down. Instead, I watch the trees as we pass them. The leaves are half-off the trees, still trying to grow back from a cold and bitter winter. Global warming is making the winters colder, but Mother Nature just keeps going. The seasons keep changing, one ending and another beginning. It's funny how even nature lets go of the old, to make room for the new. I hear footsteps...

  Luck, Be A Lady Jared has always had an insecurity about going home. If he can help it, he'll avoid getting anywhere near Las Vegas. It wasn't always like that. Sure, he was happy to leave it all behind. He hit the road when he graduated high school and never looked back. His father passed shortly after he started his band and he didn't even care. But since the band broke up, he's had reservations about the city. He didn't want any of his bandmates to call him on the split. He wanted to avoid the confrontation. Crystal came up with an idea that was so insane it might work. Of course, I didn't think he would be comfortable with it, but he was. In fact, he seemed eager to see the results. He said he was more interested to know if she could actually pull it off. He agreed that it was a good way to avoid the spotlight. He couldn't be called out if no one recognized him. Well, no one was going to recognize him, that's for sure. He didn't...

  Former Lover California feels like a stranger. It's been so long since I've seen her. We got on the plane in the afternoon, but lost two hours during the flight, arriving just before noon in California. The flight itself was so short, I barely noticed it. I'm normally a nervous wreck, but I guess my mind was elsewhere. I spent the whole flight thinking about those bright brown eyes. When we landed, it took an hour to get our stuff from baggage. In the meantime, Crystal wandered around the airport with Charlie. We may have left only a few short months ago, but it's been years since Charlie has been in the city. She has plans to take him sight seeing later, since the show isn't until tomorrow. We had our timing mixed up, because we intended to go to Jared's after the show. But, we have to get on the bus after the show and head to Vegas. The hotel room is booked in Vegas already. When we finally get our luggage, we pile into a limousine headed to Jared...

  Time, Estranged I realize I have a terrible relationship with time. I have trouble remembering things that have happened, and even more trouble remembering when. Time doesn't move the same way for me as it does for everyone else. My brain isn't linear enough. Every minute that passes in normal time is hours in my own time. I see everything happening in slow-motion. It feels like turning the page of a book is taking forever. Unless it's something big. Something tragic. Then, my brain fast-forwards through the sad parts and I come out on the other side of the disaster. I have to write everything down, or I won't remember it even happened. It's a coping mechanism, I think. It's something my brain started doing when I was younger. It wasn't because I had a terrible life or anything. It was hard, of course. I mean, it's not easy raising yourself. It's difficult to see the adults around you acting like helpless children. I moved around ...