Chapter 4

Sitting next to me a few minutes later, Paul sighed and leaned back against the cushions, his eyelids fluttering closed while his feet were propped up on a scarred wooden table, ankles crossed

“Long day?” I asked from where I lay against the armrest.

“Long week. But I always feel better after I do a gig. All my frustrations and petty issues disappear as I play each note. I lose myself in the music.” He blinked and turned to me. “You understand what I’m saying?”

“Sure, I get it.” I drank some water and placed the half empty bottle on the tiled floor. “How long have you been in the band?”

“Oh man, years. The lead singer and I go way back, and I’ve always been involved with the scene, one way or another. It’s the best way I’ve found to decompress.”

“You guys are really good,” I said, tucking my knees under me. “Have you ever been approached by record companies, or whatever?”