PROLOGUE: DAX
“It’s weird sitting here without Kane.”
Brody voices the thought that’s running through all our minds.
We’ve sat around this same table for band meetings hundreds of times, and just about every one of them included five of us.
But now there’s only four.
It’s our first band meeting since our bassist left, an emergency one since we’re technically still on hiatus for another five months. But even though we’re on hiatus, there’s an important business matter at hand.
We need a new bassist.
This isn’t the ideal time to start our search. There were several pretty important reasons we took this break in the first place, one being the newborn sleeping upstairs.
But when something as big as your bassist leaving happens while you’re on a break, you get your ass back to work pretty damn fast.
“It feels like someone died,” Adam says, and we all nod or grunt in agreement.
I chug down a few sips of Miller Lite.
It does feel like we’re mourning some loss, and that’s because we are. But that’s part of being a band. There are highs, and there are lows, and we deal with it like the brothers we’ve become.
Even when one of those brothers chooses to walk away.
“I still don’t get why he left,” Brody mutters. “Why the fuck would you want to start from scratch again? Why would you just...” He pauses and shrugs. “Give up at the height of everything?”
None of us get it, really, but as I think about the newborn upstairs again—someone who’s only been here on this earth for the last fourteen days yet who runs through my mind pretty much every second of every day—I realize that love in all its forms can make us do things other people might not understand.
“He fell in love,” I say, and that’s pretty much the long and short of it. “Enough about why he left. We’ve got limited time and Rascal needs to get back to LA for a gig tonight. Do any of you have anybody that immediately springs to mind? Or will we need to reach out to people we know for ideas?”
“Ethan mentioned he knows of a few guys,” Brody says, naming his future brother-in-law and the drummer of the multi-platinum sensation Vail. “I could get in touch with him and see who he recommends.”
I nod. “Obviously anyone recommended by someone in Vail will be a contender. Anyone else?” I stand and grab another beer from the fridge.
“Emily and I saw a cover band a few weeks ago and we both commented on how talented their bassist was,” Adam says. He twists in his chair to look at me. “Hey, grab me one, too.”
I grab two cans and toss one to him on my way back to my chair. I crack open the cold one. “You have his contact info?”
He shakes his head. “No, but it probably wouldn’t be hard to get it.”
“Get on that. Anyone else?” I ask.
“Maybe we could just get Kane back,” Brody suggests.
Rascal chokes on a laugh. “Not likely, dude.” Of all of us, he’d know. He and Kane were both contracted to fill in temporarily while another of our record label’s bands searched for a permanent bassist and lead guitarist. Rascal is still playing with them through the end of September, and that’s where Kane is now permanently residing.
“I figured it was a long shot,” Brody says.
I nod. “Get me names by Monday and I’ll get in touch with Mark.”
We’re a big enough band now that we bypass the channels and go straight to the CEO at the top, the same guy who happens to be the lead singer of Vail, the co-producer of the reality show we developed together, and someone who has grown into a good friend of mine over the last couple years.
To say he’s a busy guy is an understatement, but he cares about the success of every band signed to his label, and I already know he’ll want to be involved in the decision-making when it comes time to choose our new bassist.
And we’re not small potatoes anymore. We top the charts. We sell out stadiums. We may be taking a short break from practice, touring, and recording, but we’re not going anywhere.
We’re not going fucking anywhere.
“Kylie’s already itching to get back to work, and she’ll be skyping next week with Keith to map out a late summer and fall tour next year. Is everyone still on board for that?”
My question is met with various grunts and nods of agreement.
“Of course she is,” Rascal says.
I glare in his direction. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He chuckles good naturedly. “She just had your kid two weeks ago and she’s already skyping Keith to plan a tour. Only Kylie.”
I laugh, too. He has a point. As my wife and the mother of my child, Kylie’s obviously rooting for MFB. But as our band’s manager, she’s more than invested in our continued success.
“Speaking of Kylie, she had an idea about filling our open spot,” I say.
Rascal rolls his eyes. “Here we go again...”
I glare at him again before I glance at Adam and Brody, who both look interested. “I already ran it by Mark, and he thinks it’s an incredible idea, too.”
“What is it?” Brody asks.
“A competition, filmed for Rock on the Road. We’ve already given people two seasons of our reality show, so why not a third that shows the process of finding someone to fill an open spot in MFB?”
Brody’s eyes light up. His father—who he no longer speaks with—used to be involved in television entertainment, and I think it runs in his blood, too. But that’s about the only thing he shares with his dad. “What kind of competition?”
“We’re in charge, so it can be whatever we want it to be. But Kylie’s pitch to Mark was basically that we’d gather ten of the best bassists we can find, put them in a house together where they’ll be filmed twenty-four-seven, and choose one of them to fill Kane’s spot.”
“Who’s paying for that?” Adam asks.
“Ashmark will pay for the house and food, and MFB will kick in some money to pay the contestants. We need to get this off the ground ASAP to fill this spot, so it’ll be a quick turnaround as long as everyone is on board.” I look at each guy in my band, and they’re all nodding. A dart of relief runs through me.
Adam holds up his beer bottle in a toast. “Let’s do it.”
I hold mine up, too, but I don’t say anything since it’s my proposal.
“I’m in,” Brody says.
Rascal nods. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with my schedule playing with Ruby, I’m down for it.”
We touch our bottles together and chug.
“Good. So when we’re off hiatus in December, I need you ready to play and record new music with our new bassist. I need you writing now. I need you practicing your shit and creating new sounds. We have a shitload of banked songs we’ve cut from other albums, but there’s a reason they were cut. I want a fresh, new sound that matches the new dynamic we’ll have and I want it to fucking blow everything we’ve ever recorded before out of the water.”
I see the fire I’m lighting in these guys.
We all share the same ambition to keep MFB at the top, but there’s a new underlying, unspoken reason we all want our next album to catapult to success.