Chapter 2

But Trace tells him, “No, this isn’t one of Robb’s things. This is a real gig, Adam. At the Lot.”

He lets that sink in. The Lot.Only thebest grunge club in town, theplace for the underground indie music scene in Richmond. Adam’s been trying to get a gig there for years.

When he doesn’t answer, Trace says it again, in case he didn’t hear. “The Lot, downtown? You know, in the Bottom? Adam—”

“You’re lying,” Adam breathes. There’s no waythey have a gig at the Lot. They can’t.Only signed bands play there, not groups like theirs, with a handful of original songs and most of their repertoire covers of old favorites with their own dirty twist to them, like Trace’s drum cadence throughout Nazareth’s “Love Bites.” The few people they’ve played for like it but damn…the Lot? “Trace, how the hell did you get us in there?”

“You know that girl who runs it?” Trace asks.

Adam nods, though Trace can’t see the gesture through the phone.

“Steff. Man, she’s always on my jock, you know? Well, I was in there last night with Jane and Steff’s all like what’s a girl have to do to catch your eye and I laughed and said give us space on the stage here, I’ll do you. And damned if she didn’t say yes!” He laughs again, like it’s funny. “Talk about sleeping your way to the top, eh? I knew I was holding out on her for a reason.”

Adam glares at his guitar. There’s only one reason Steff would give in that easily, and it has nothing to do with the legendary Dixon charm. “I think it’s that Battle of the Bands shit,” he says. He hatesthat. It’s up there with karaoke night—anyone who thinks they’re a group can get a spot onstage. “I ain’t doing that, man. You knowhow I feel about that crap. Am I the only one in this band who does it for the music? Am I the only one who isn’t going to compromise my beliefs just to cut a deal? Am I—”

“That’s why we’re still where we are,” Trace argues. “Jesus, Adam! You and your fucking principles. We need to get noticed, okay? We need the studios to hear us. And this is the perfect chance. Steff swears it’s tight this month, not like it has been in the past. She says there are only five or six bands—she picked them out herself. It isn’t an open mike, Adam, I promise.” He waits a second, then adds, “And there’ll be scouts there. Studio reps, looking to sign someone. Like us, man. Like us.”

Adam doubts that. He thinks Steff’s just lying to get a taste of Trace’s dick. He thinks Steff’s full of shit. But if she’s telling the truth and there areonly a handful of bands there, then that might be okay. And if the studios are there, how can he notgo? He could get a deal, they could cut an album, go on tour so he can get out of this house, start living the life he was meant for, the one he dreams about, the one he can feel so badly it hurts,and make so much money he can shove it up his stepdad’s ass. Look at me,he’d say, hands full of hundred dollar bills. You said we’d never make it and look at me now, will you? Fucking prick.

It’s a nice image. “Five or six bands,” he echoes.

Trace laughs. “That’s it, man. Tomorrow night, I’m telling you.”

“Studio reps there, too?” Adam asks, just to make sure.

“Yep.” Trace laughs again. “Scouting for new talent, not one of those winner gets a contract things. I think we have a chance, Adam, I really do.”

I think you’re just glad you’re finally getting a piece of Steff’s skank ass,Adam thinks, but he doesn’t say that. He isn’t above sleeping with someone to get something he wants. Too bad the Lot isn’t run by one of the guys from the Slip. As the only gay club in town, the Slip’s right across the alley from the Lot and if he thought it’d help their band he’d be there every night, wiggling his ass until someone offered them a gig. But they only do canned music, nothing live, and it isn’t alternative anyway, it’s that pop shit he’s so sick of hearing on the radio. Every damn channel anymore. What happened to the classics? He blames it all on MTV. That channel killed rock. The only good bands out there are indie acts like theirs and maybe a few others he could name on one hand. That’s it.

“Adam?” Trace is waiting for an answer. “Hey, man, I have to get going. I’m at work, you know? And I have to call her back if we want to do it—”

“We do.” Adam can’t tamp down his grin. “Tomorrow night? Shit, we need to practice. How many numbers do we get?”

He can hear the smile in Trace’s voice when he replies, “I’m not sure, but I’ll ask Steff when I talk to her. Got another hour here and then I’m off for the rest of the night. Your place? You said Tim isn’t there.”

Adam’s stepdad is on a business trip, what Adam likes to call a fuck fest, even though he doesn’t really think Tim is creative enough to screw around on his mother. Adam just likes to stir things up and nothing gets his mom more upset than when he hints that Tim’s trips are just a string of one-night stands in a hotel three states away.