Even though all he wanted to do was for this blowhard in front of him to just get up and shove this pretentious asshole out the door. "We'll let you know." His calm, sedate voice was just biting on the edge of irritation as twenty five year old Kendall Price smiled - almost - at the man in front of him.
Correction. In front of them. The band. His band, in his mind; Mercury Wave. Normally, the leader of a band was the lead singer, but even as the singer had been at the front and centre of the stage, it was Kendall who'd driven them; the energetic guitar player, always full of life and drive with with an instrument in his hands. But now they were down a singer after a rather acrimonious parting with their previous vocalist, and it could not have come at a worse time; Kendall knew that some record executives were starting to notice, seeing talent in the precocious mishmash of musicians. They had chemistry, and now people were looking to see if they had 'it'.
And no matter how good you were, no rock band could have 'it' without a lead singer.
They'd rented a small conference room in a hotel; at a not-insignificant-cost for a foursome who was still trying to make it big. But this was part of the process, and Kendall - as the most 'convincing' (which was to say charismatic and decisive) member of the band - had convinced the other three guys that this was a good use of their meager budget.
Getting Trent Olsen onboard had been critical. Trent was the bass player, and as the primary songwriter of the band was seen as the most rational and well reasoned of the guys. He'd taken some convincing, but eventually he agreed that this would present the band in a better light. Although, as they'd walked into the small area normally used for business meetings and office presentations where nobody was listening, the normally sedate twenty six year old mumbled into Kendall's ear 'this had better work'. At the moment, Trent wasn't smiling even as he wore a polite expression; his innate grasp of social protocol was generally on par with Kendall's; his head slightly higher then Kendall's only due so his height; idly folding his arms in front of him, rubbing the shoulder of his black t-shirt as if he needed to get something off of it.
The same could not be said for Steve Usher, the drummer who just could *not* sit still. Even sitting, he radiated with energy; shivering, almost, his wild long curly hair betraying his enthusiasm. Not necessarily for what they were doing; the twenty two year old college dropout (not an uncommon occurrence among these four, although he was the only one who seemed to make a big deal about it) had argued fervently against wasting their time here. Still, even as Trent waited calmly, as Kendall attempted not to will the man out with his eyes, Steve smiled eagerly at the anonymous singer in front of them, as if the tryout hadn't just butchered his one and only chance to join their group, his gaze not able to stay focused on him for too long before he wanted/needed to look at something else.
And still, each and every one of them was doing a better job of being decent human beings then Bradley Geiger. The four men had sweat together, bled together (figuratively), barely dodged death together (literally), but still none of them really had a beat on what made Brad tick. He was a little moody, eccentric, by far the most difficult to deal with at times and also the one with the most erratic schedule; rehearsals often had to be rescheduled around his work hours.
He was also arguably the one who held the most power out of the four of them as one of the most talented guitar/keyboard players that any of the guys there had ever seen. When asked about it, the lanky twenty three year old mumbled something about piano lessons he hadn't wanted to take.
At any rate, he was also the one to break the stalemate as he locked his gaze with intent on the young man in front of them, his tone unnerving and steely. "You can leave now."
"I've-I've haven't sung everything yet-"
So much for the diplomatic route. Kendall got up from his chair at that point, no longer content to let civility reign. "We've heard enough. Thank you." He dropped the clipboard and pen he'd been holding onto the table in front of the members of Mercury Wave, all but shoving the poor bastard out the door. "Next!" He called out the door, but seeing nobody else out there for the moment, he let a sigh out, heading back to the table."Well, he's definitely not it."
"No." nodded Trent.
"That dude will make a nice backup singer somewhere." Steve's statement was followed by him tapping his hands against the table as if he wanted to start a beat, causing his clipboard and pen to fall on the floor. Trent chuckled, shaking his head as he looked at Kendall.
"Should we call it a day?" He looked at his watch knowingly, and Kendall gave a quick glance at the wall clock before shaking his head.
"We've got the room for another fifteen minutes..." he responded quickly. Even if they didn't get anyone, this was a nice room for them. Comfortable chairs, clean carpets, a rectangular table set up at one end of the room, with the four of them (normally) sitting behind it. In the centre, a music stand, and a couple of tables at the sides with a pitcher of water and glasses, if any of them needed it.
Ones they'd have to sneak back out, Kendall remembered, as he'd seen the hotel's prices for refreshments and blanched.
"Nobody's going to show up in between now and then. We've only had a dozen people the whole day."
"Exactly. We need someone better then the schmucks who've shown up so far..."
Steve finally broke into the conversation meaningfully, getting up and bending down to stretch his legs; something the relatively short drummer should have been doing more of, judging by his extra weight. "I think the third guy was okay in short doses..."
"Exactly." said Kendall, walking back to his chair and almost falling into it with an exasperated sigh. "We can't have someone in short doses. We need someone who can hold up under pressure. A real singer." He looked down. "I posted this everywhere I knew..."
"I know, man." Trent put a placating hand on the man's shoulder while Steven bent over backwards now. "I saw 'em all, and put a few notes on message boards of my own. Ones I could trust, anyways."
Kendall smirked back, nodding as Trent pulled his hand away. "For all the good it did. Still though, we've got...thirteen minutes now." He leaned back. "Let's just see who else pops through that door before the hotel comes in to kick us out."
Little did he know who was about to walk through, and how they were about to change the fortunes of Kendall and his little band...
Correction. In front of them. The band. His band, in his mind; Mercury Wave. Normally, the leader of a band was the lead singer, but even as the singer had been at the front and centre of the stage, it was Kendall who'd driven them; the energetic guitar player, always full of life and drive with with an instrument in his hands. But now they were down a singer after a rather acrimonious parting with their previous vocalist, and it could not have come at a worse time; Kendall knew that some record executives were starting to notice, seeing talent in the precocious mishmash of musicians. They had chemistry, and now people were looking to see if they had 'it'.
And no matter how good you were, no rock band could have 'it' without a lead singer.
They'd rented a small conference room in a hotel; at a not-insignificant-cost for a foursome who was still trying to make it big. But this was part of the process, and Kendall - as the most 'convincing' (which was to say charismatic and decisive) member of the band - had convinced the other three guys that this was a good use of their meager budget.
Getting Trent Olsen onboard had been critical. Trent was the bass player, and as the primary songwriter of the band was seen as the most rational and well reasoned of the guys. He'd taken some convincing, but eventually he agreed that this would present the band in a better light. Although, as they'd walked into the small area normally used for business meetings and office presentations where nobody was listening, the normally sedate twenty six year old mumbled into Kendall's ear 'this had better work'. At the moment, Trent wasn't smiling even as he wore a polite expression; his innate grasp of social protocol was generally on par with Kendall's; his head slightly higher then Kendall's only due so his height; idly folding his arms in front of him, rubbing the shoulder of his black t-shirt as if he needed to get something off of it.
The same could not be said for Steve Usher, the drummer who just could *not* sit still. Even sitting, he radiated with energy; shivering, almost, his wild long curly hair betraying his enthusiasm. Not necessarily for what they were doing; the twenty two year old college dropout (not an uncommon occurrence among these four, although he was the only one who seemed to make a big deal about it) had argued fervently against wasting their time here. Still, even as Trent waited calmly, as Kendall attempted not to will the man out with his eyes, Steve smiled eagerly at the anonymous singer in front of them, as if the tryout hadn't just butchered his one and only chance to join their group, his gaze not able to stay focused on him for too long before he wanted/needed to look at something else.
And still, each and every one of them was doing a better job of being decent human beings then Bradley Geiger. The four men had sweat together, bled together (figuratively), barely dodged death together (literally), but still none of them really had a beat on what made Brad tick. He was a little moody, eccentric, by far the most difficult to deal with at times and also the one with the most erratic schedule; rehearsals often had to be rescheduled around his work hours.
He was also arguably the one who held the most power out of the four of them as one of the most talented guitar/keyboard players that any of the guys there had ever seen. When asked about it, the lanky twenty three year old mumbled something about piano lessons he hadn't wanted to take.
At any rate, he was also the one to break the stalemate as he locked his gaze with intent on the young man in front of them, his tone unnerving and steely. "You can leave now."
"I've-I've haven't sung everything yet-"
So much for the diplomatic route. Kendall got up from his chair at that point, no longer content to let civility reign. "We've heard enough. Thank you." He dropped the clipboard and pen he'd been holding onto the table in front of the members of Mercury Wave, all but shoving the poor bastard out the door. "Next!" He called out the door, but seeing nobody else out there for the moment, he let a sigh out, heading back to the table."Well, he's definitely not it."
"No." nodded Trent.
"That dude will make a nice backup singer somewhere." Steve's statement was followed by him tapping his hands against the table as if he wanted to start a beat, causing his clipboard and pen to fall on the floor. Trent chuckled, shaking his head as he looked at Kendall.
"Should we call it a day?" He looked at his watch knowingly, and Kendall gave a quick glance at the wall clock before shaking his head.
"We've got the room for another fifteen minutes..." he responded quickly. Even if they didn't get anyone, this was a nice room for them. Comfortable chairs, clean carpets, a rectangular table set up at one end of the room, with the four of them (normally) sitting behind it. In the centre, a music stand, and a couple of tables at the sides with a pitcher of water and glasses, if any of them needed it.
Ones they'd have to sneak back out, Kendall remembered, as he'd seen the hotel's prices for refreshments and blanched.
"Nobody's going to show up in between now and then. We've only had a dozen people the whole day."
"Exactly. We need someone better then the schmucks who've shown up so far..."
Steve finally broke into the conversation meaningfully, getting up and bending down to stretch his legs; something the relatively short drummer should have been doing more of, judging by his extra weight. "I think the third guy was okay in short doses..."
"Exactly." said Kendall, walking back to his chair and almost falling into it with an exasperated sigh. "We can't have someone in short doses. We need someone who can hold up under pressure. A real singer." He looked down. "I posted this everywhere I knew..."
"I know, man." Trent put a placating hand on the man's shoulder while Steven bent over backwards now. "I saw 'em all, and put a few notes on message boards of my own. Ones I could trust, anyways."
Kendall smirked back, nodding as Trent pulled his hand away. "For all the good it did. Still though, we've got...thirteen minutes now." He leaned back. "Let's just see who else pops through that door before the hotel comes in to kick us out."
Little did he know who was about to walk through, and how they were about to change the fortunes of Kendall and his little band...
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