Travis Starnes
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From the Top - Chapter 14
🕑 Added 2023-11-17 15:47:01 +0000 UTCMy first day of school went … surprisingly well. Even with Dr. Wallace’s assurances, I’d just assumed something was going to go terribly wrong, based on the last two years. Instead, I had normal classes, wasn’t singled out; and by lunch, I’d had no run-ins beyond the one with Harry that morning. That had been more of a runaway, than anything else.
I spotted my friends still holding down our normal table in the cafeteria. Of the original group, only Joseph, Payton, and I remained, although we’d added some new people last year that seemed to be working out, including Cameron, who’d become a fixture by the spring semester. There were also some new faces that I didn’t know, either people the others had met in class or maybe freshmen. The one real surprise was David, who was sitting next to Payton. He normally sat with the other baseball guys, so I didn’t understand why he was sitting at our table.
Sliding into the seat next to him, I asked, “Hey, man. Don’t you normally sit with the other guys?”
“He and Payton are dating,” Joseph supplied, before David could finish chewing and answer.
“Really? When did this happen?”
“Beginning of summer,” Payton said. “We were working at the pool together, and he asked me out.”
“Man, that’s cool, although I’m sorry to be so late hearing about it.”
“It’s okay,” David said. “You’ve had so much going on the last few months, I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Yeah, but that’s no excuse. We basically haven’t even talked since I quit baseball. I feel like I’m completely out of the loop. Hell, I don’t know half the people sitting here, and I know some joined us last year.”
“This is Amy and Thea, they’re the ones that joined last year,” Joseph said, pointing at two of the girls sitting near the other end.
“Amy and I are in theater together,” Cameron said, indicating the girl with short, pixie-cut blonde hair and thick black glasses.
“And … uhh, we’ve actually met before,” Thea, the petite girl with long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail said.
“Ohh, yeah, of course,” I said. “I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize you.”
She waved it off like it was no big deal.
Before I could apologize further, Joseph continued, “David brought Jake and Ryan today, and that’s Lily, who knows Payton. Maybe our new couple decided they needed new faces to take the pressure off themselves.”
“It’s not like that,” David said. “I know Jake and Ryan from playing pick-up ball, and they’re planning to try out for the team in the spring. I told them they could hang with us until then.”
“It felt weird to just go and sit with the rest of the team when we hadn’t even tried out yet,” Jake added.
“And Lily’s my next-door neighbor,” Payton said.
“Hey, I’m not complaining. Glad to have some new people since two-thirds of us have gone off and graduated.”
“A few weeks ago, Hanna said you were going to go up to UNC when Kat moved in,” Peyton said.
“Yeah, we moved her in on Saturday. She’s already trying to think of how to redecorate, god help Hanna.”
“So how is your first day going?” Peyton asked after the conversation lulled a bit. “We were all kind of worried, after everything that happened last year.”
“It’s actually going really good,” I said. “I mean, it’s still school and I’d rather be somewhere else, but nothing bad happened. No getting yelled at in the office, no fights in the hallway. Even better, I think it wasn’t just an accident. I got intercepted this morning and sent to see our new principal as soon as I got in the building.”
“I thought you said you weren’t sent to the office today,” Cameron said.
“It wasn’t like that. I thought it might be, at first, but it turned out Dr. Wallace just wanted to talk and clear the air. He said all the stuff from last year was taken care of and I’d get a fair shot this year.”
“That’s a good sign,” David said.
“I know. He was actually pretty cool about it. He said I wouldn’t get any special treatment, but I also wouldn’t be targeted. He added that I should just focus on having a normal senior year. Which works for me.”
“After they had to shell out money over what happened last year, I’m not surprised,” Cameron said.
“Yeah, and that’s not everything. I also had a run-in with Harry on the way to class.”
“He back down and run away again?” David asked.
David had been there for a couple of confrontations the previous year, where I’d gotten into Harry’s face and forced him to back down.
“Yeah, but not like that. I turned the corner and he was right there in front of me. For a second, I was sure we were going to end up at least insulting each other, posturing or whatever, like always, but instead he literally just turned around and walked off in the opposite direction. I was so shocked I didn’t even say anything as he ran away.”
“That doesn’t sound like Harry,” David said.
“Maybe he’s trying to turn over a new leaf.” Peyton said.
“I doubt it,” David said.
“Yeah, me either, but if he wants to stay away from me, I’m more than happy to let him,” I said.
The rest of lunch was just catching up with my friends and getting to know the new people. With Hanna, and now Kat, off to college, it was nice to still have some friends I could hang out with.
***
The next three weeks, I started getting into a routine. I’d go to school, then home for band practice for an hour or so. Then, I’d go to Warren’s apartment, now that he’d moved to Wellsville, where we’d work for an hour or so making calls, trying to find us some gigs. So far, the only interest we’d gotten was from very small clubs paying less than what we were making at the Blue Ridge. We’d have to drive at least five or six hours to get to these clubs, meaning the costs were going to be high. We could do one of those if we had another one that paid better, but even two of those back-to-back would end up with everyone making less money.
We kept their information for when we were able to put something more substantive together and then we could set up something with them as an add-on to a more profitable stop, which is what we kept working on. After that, I’d swing by Willie’s house and visit him for an hour or so, now that he was home from the hospital. Then I head home. It was a pretty busy schedule and didn’t leave a lot of time for homework, but really at this point, I was just looking to pass and graduate. My grades were never going to get me anything beyond a simple diploma anyway.
Today, I was a little earlier to Warren’s than I had been most other days because Seth had to run to Asheville for something and didn’t have time to practice. We were working on another song from Lyla, which was a little less wild than her previous one but still very much rock and fun called “Friday Night Fights,” about getting into drunken fights outside a bar at night. When she’d first pitched it, I’d been unsure, since I didn’t think that would be all that fun, but it really was more silly than serious and worked well with the upbeat sound she had in mind. We still had a long way to go on it, but it gave us something to do, which we were all happy about.
Warren was in a small group of apartments on the other side of the central part of Main Street from me. Parking was kind of a pain, but it was just far enough that walking from school would have been annoying. Three weeks was enough time to know the area, and I’d found a section on a side street that usually had a good spot to park.
“You’re here earlier than normal,” Warren said when he opened his door. “Don’t you have homework … or something?”
“Nah, I took care of it already, and we had to cancel practice today, so I figured we could get an early start today.”
“Sure,” he said, walking back into his apartment, leaving me to close the door. “I’ve made it through the list of clubs in Birmingham. I have some callbacks with a few of them, but … I’m not confident that’ll happen.”
“Where does that leave us?”
“We haven’t touched Montgomery, but it’s a little far to go. We might need to start looking at smaller cities. Tupelo, Tuscaloosa, Springfield, places like that.”
“If we can’t make enough money on clubs in the larger cities, what are the odds that we’ll find one in a smaller town that pays enough?” I asked.
“Not good, but … I do have an idea I want to run by you.”
“I hope it’s a good one because our current plan just isn’t working.”
“I know,” he said. “Do you know the show The Stage?”
“The singing competition show? I’ve seen segments of it, mostly as clips on Widget. I don’t really watch much TV.”
“Well, they’re going to film their next season around Christmas, and they’ve announced their audition locations; one is in Atlanta.”
“Okay,” I said, still a little confused.
“I think you should audition for it,” he said.
“For a singing competition? Isn’t that … I don’t know, a step back. We’ve played actual shows. Big ones. And recorded an album. Aren’t those shows for amateurs?”
“That’s how they pitch it, but a lot of the people who show up already play gigs regularly and some have already made an album. Sure, there are some amateurs who’ve never performed in front of people or have only sung in church, but they’re actually the minority. Most are people just like you. They’ve made a little progress, but their careers are not where they want them to be or moving as fast as they’d like.”
“And you think it can get us out of this hole?”
“I do. If you make it even a little way through the competition, the amount of exposure will be huge, on a national level. Enough that clubs would be willing to ignore MAC to book you and it could get you out of just being regional. It’ll open up opportunities outside of the East Coast. And if you win, it comes with a record contract, one with a national label, which means real marketing.”
“If I win,” I pointed out.
“You can win. I’ve worked with a lot of artists, and you’re one of the best I’ve worked with. Maybe the best. You’ve got a good sound that breaks into multiple genres, and you’re an amazing guitarist. You’ve also written your own music, which’ll give you a leg up on some of the other competitors. The amateurs, they’ll have only really done covers, which means they’ll have a harder time writing songs their own, which is a big key to winning. And you’ve worked with really talented producers, so you’ve got some background that’ll give you an edge against the more experienced musicians you’ll be up against.”
“Ohh.”
“And, like I said, you don’t need to win. You just need to get on TV with your music. Millions watch the show, which means building a profile big enough to get serious bookings and an in with other labels. MAC is small potatoes in the industry as a whole. They won’t be able to stand in your way after that. All you have to do is make it past the audition and have at least one good performance on TV, and it’ll solve all our problems.”
“What about the band?” I asked. “From what I’ve seen, they only take solo performers. I made promises to them, and I can’t just leave them behind now.”
“Yeah, I figured that would come up, so I called them this morning and talked to both of them about it already, and they’re on board.”
“You did? They are?”
“I know how you feel about them and how seriously you take your responsibilities, so I wanted to make sure they’d agree before I talked to you about it. Both Lyla and Seth said they’d be willing to take a step back and be patient if it meant you getting on the show. They know what we’re doing isn’t working, and they realize this could fix everything.”
“Ohh.”
“They won’t be completely out. The audition is just one day, on a Monday, so they won’t have to miss any Blue Ridge performances. If you make the show, it will be recorded over a month or so, I believe, and I think Chef will agree to let them still play the Blue Ridge, either on their own or with that other band that sometimes plays there. It might not pay the same, but for this opportunity, they just need to hold on for a little while longer. Theoretically, the longer you stay on the show, the more it will help the band. Really, for now, we need to focus on the audition, and once you make that, we can all sit down and discuss the next steps.”
“Okay,” Charlie said after a long pause. “I’ll do it.”
“All right, let’s go over what you’re going to need to do to get signed up and what you can expect. The audition isn’t until October, so we have some time, but we’ve got to get ready. Pick the song you want to do, get the backing track, and submit an application for the audition.”
“Can I do an original, one of my songs? I could bring my guitar on stage and won’t need a full backing track.”
“Even if you do one of yours, you’re going to want a backing track. Just a guitar will make less of an impression than if you have the rest of the band playing. You’ve got the masters for your songs, so we can talk to Rowan, or hire someone, to find out how we can pull your guitar out of the mix so you can play it live but have a backing track for the rest, which means even more practice since you’re going to want to make sure you get synced up.”
By the end of the week, I’d actually started to get excited about the idea of doing the show, or at least auditioning for it. I did some research on my own, and Warren wasn’t joking about the number of people who watched the shows. Beyond just the broadcasts themselves, people posted clips from the shows on the video sharing app Switcher, which got shared and reposted constantly. What was several million people watching the show could be tens of millions worldwide who saw the videos on social media.
If Warren was right, and larger distributors and venues would be willing to ignore MAC, we’d be looking at a level of recognition way beyond what we’d be able to get on our own, no matter how many little clubs we set gigs up at.
On Friday, Warren was supposed to have the application for the Atlanta audition to fill out, so I wasn’t really focused most of the day. I’d almost missed the bell and was one of the last ones to leave history class after getting my stuff together.
I was halfway out the door when Mr. Jensen said, “Just a minute, Charlie. I’d like to have a word with you.”
“Oh, uh, sure. What’s up?” I said, stopping in the doorway and turning around.
Mr. Jensen gestured to a desk by the door and repeated, “Have a seat.”
I stepped over to the desk and slid into the seat, dropping my backpack next to it. He’d been holding a paper in his hands, and he set it down in front of me. I saw my name and the title of the test we took on Monday, with a big red forty-seven percent written on it, surrounded by a big circle.
“I wanted to touch base with you about this,” he began. “I know we’re only a month into the year, but I have to admit I was pretty surprised by your score here.”
I thought I’d done okay on the test. Maybe not amazing, but I hadn’t thought I would get such a low score.
“Ohh, man. I … sorry.”
“Look, Charlie, I know you had a really rough year last year, and I know it probably wasn’t that much better of a summer for you. I’m not unsympathetic to it, really. But I talked to some of your teachers from last year and your sophomore year. They all had great things to say about you. How hard you worked, how you really dedicated yourself these past couple years. I know you struggled when you first started here, after being homeschooled, but they all told me you focused, used tutoring, and turned things around, to the point that you managed to get yourself moved out of remedial classes and were on level in just one year. That’s an incredible achievement, which is why I had pretty high expectations for you. I’ll be honest, I’m a little disappointed by what you’ve shown me so far this year.”
“I know,” I said, still looking at the red forty-seven. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better on the next test.”
“It’s not just one test, Charlie. I’ve been looking over your grades so far, and you’re barely scraping by with Cs and Ds on most of your homework and quizzes. It’s still early and a couple of A’s can pull your grades up, but if you keep getting scores like this, you’re going to dig a hole you can’t pull yourself out of. I know you’re probably like most seniors and you’re looking forward to getting out of here and heading off to college. I think the last thing you’re going to want to do is bomb this class and have to take summer school, or worse, get held back and need take the year over. I haven’t talked to any of your other teachers this year yet, but I’m going to take a guess that this isn’t the only class you’ve been skating through.”
He was right, it wasn’t. I’d known I was pushing it, putting working with Warren, music practice, or working with Willie ahead of getting my homework done. Last year, I’d been way busier, but I also spent a lot of time with Kat sitting at the kitchen table doing homework. I’d thought I could focus on getting my career back, and that I could still keep my grades up, with maybe a little slippage. I hadn’t expected this.
“I’m sympathetic to everything you’ve had to deal with, Charlie,” he continued. “I really am. You’ve been through more than any kid should have to deal with. But you can’t let everything else bury you. I want to see you succeed, Charlie, but you’re not going to do it like this. I’m not going to say I know what happened here, but if you look honestly at the preparation you’ve been doing, do you feel like it’s been enough?”
“Uhh… I guess not,” I said, looking down at the desk.
He looked at me for a long minute and said, “I don’t normally do this, but we also don’t normally have students who’ve faced the kind of challenges you have, so I’m going to make you a deal. If you promise me that you’ll pick up your efforts to the level we both know you’re capable of, not just in my class, but in all of your classes, I’ll give you a chance to retake this test on Monday.”
“I can do that,” I said.
If I was doing this bad in this class, I was probably doing just as bad in my other classes. If I wanted to fulfill the promise I made to Mom, and graduate high school, I needed to do something about this. It was humbling, getting a wake-up call like this.
“Good. Now get going. You don’t want to be late to your next class.”
Comments
Idaho Spud56
Thanks for the new chapter. Hope you are feeling better.
