Ann Lister: Sheet Music - A Rock 'n' Roll Love Story

“Excuse me? I did no such thing! Maybe I was a bit star struck, but I was not throwing ‘fuck-me-glances’, as you so eloquently put it, at anyone!”

“Lighten up man, I think we were all a bit star struck. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel anything sitting at the same table with Michael Wade. I thought I’d stop breathing when he shook my hand,” Buzz chuckled.

“Yeah, and did you see the ring he had on his left hand? Was that cool or what?” Ivory added.

“I think you’ve all lost your minds,” Gary sputtered with defeat and walked off toward his car.

“Need a ride home?” Buzz asked Annie.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“Come on, Ivory. I’ll drop you off too.” Buzz stated as he headed toward his van.

Buzz chatted endlessly on the way home while Annie barely made a sound. He felt exhilarated and could not understand why Annie did not seem to share the same excitement.

“Did I miss something back there?” Buzz asked.

“Huh, what do you mean?” Annie replied.

“I wouldn’t say it as crudely as Gary did, but it was obvious that something was going on between you and Michael Wade.”

“You’re both crazy. He shook my hand like everyone else’s. That’s it.”

“This is me you’re talking to, not Gary. What’s going on with you?”

Annie glanced toward Buzz and shook her head. “I’m fine. Just a bit awed by meeting him I guess.”

“That’s it? Are you sure?” Buzz questioned.

Annie smiled and felt her face flush. “He is pretty amazing, isn’t he?”

Buzz shook his head. “Damn it, Annie. Whatever you think you’re feeling right now you better ignore it. Let us not lose our focus here. Okay?”

Annie looked out the window, ignoring Buzz's concern. What was she feeling, she wondered? How could she define it? Meeting Michael Wade was better than she had ever imagined. He was breathtaking. Larger than life. And yet, there seemed to be a quiet introspective side to him that intrigued her. She wondered if he was thinking about her and then quickly laughed at the thought. With all the women he met in a single day, meeting her had to be a pretty insignificant event in his life. She was certain of that. She doubted if he would even remember her name.

As scheduled, two days later Michael Wade came back and sat in on one of White Rush’s practice sessions. For years the band had been using the old Play House in the town Annie lived as their practice site. It was owned by Annie’s uncle who let them use it for free during the day as long as they played one gig there every month. The location was perfect for Annie. It was within walking distance of her apartment and the diner where she worked. The stage was large and lofty and the lighting bad but the acoustics were fabulous.

They had played and practiced at the Play House hundreds of times but on this day it felt like the first time they had used the stage. They fumbled to find the wall outlets and juggled amplifiers around mindlessly, aware of the fact Michael was in back of the theater watching them. The deal was just that. He would silently attend a week or more of their practice sessions, at the end of which, he would give them his professional critique on the strengths and weaknesses of the band. The end result would be a better, more commercially marketable band. It was all part of the bands’ grooming process to ready them for performing on stage as the opening act for Thrust. In the long term, they could possibly pick up a record contract with their new exposure.

There was a lot to do in a short amount of time and all were expected to make some sacrifices; first of which was to change their practice schedule. Instead of meeting once a week for a few hours, they now had to practice every afternoon from one o’clock to six o’clock in the evening. Their club dates were diminished to Saturday night only with the club sites to be approved by Bostonian Promotions. Sunday was their one day off to do as they pleased. They were asked to take a leave of absence from their day jobs and instead they would receive a weekly allowance from Bostonian Promotions. The allowances were not much but it was understood that they would have to make do with it. The bottom line was Bostonian Promotions, as well as Thrust, wanted White Rush to eat, sleep, and dream about their music and nothing else. When they were not practicing, they were expected to be working on new material.

These details were all agreed to and a contract stating as much was signed at the initial meeting. No one had a problem with it except for Gary. He now felt owned by Bostonian Promotions and hated the idea of being told what to do. He called it a dictatorship and resented every aspect of it.

“No band practices every day,” Gary balked.

“They do if they want to make it big,” Buzz replied, shifting his drum set.

“I can remember practicing until my fingers bled,” Michael added, as he slowly approached the stage. “It all depends on how badly you want to make it.” He sat with a fluid motion in a front row seat and stared directly up at Gary. “If the sacrifices are more than you’re prepared to make, then maybe you ought to pick a different career.”

A steely silence hung over the stage. It was as if an imaginary line had been drawn and both men were waiting to see who crossed it first. Annie looked at Michael’s eyes. Two days ago, they were soft and smoky. Now they were dark charcoal and cold. She gasped and looked away. Gary was blowing this whole deal for them, before it even got off the ground.

“No one said it was going to be an easy ride,” Michael added, never removing his eyes from Gary.

“Yeah, well everything was fine before Al entered us into your fucking contest.”

Michael stood with a loud whoosh. “I can get you out of that contract quicker than it took you to sign it. The choice is yours.” He turned and began to walk toward the front door. “I’m going to get a cup of coffee. You can give me your answer when I get back.”

They waited until they heard the slam of the door before they dared to speak.

“What the hell is your problem?” Buzz jumped on Gary.

“You’re acting like a child,” Annie added.

“Don’t blow this deal, man,” Ivory scolded, lighting up a joint.

Gary shook his head. “You guys are all assholes! You shove this whole deal down my throat and just expect me to jump for joy! They own us now, is that what you all want? You're gonna stand in line and take your allowance check every week like a good boy and hope to hell you have enough to pay the rent? You are all out of your fucking minds!”

Annie stepped away from Gary. “I'd like to shove that guitar down your throat, Gary!” What do you think the big time is like? You become the property of a record label. You get an allowance and you sell records. Lots of them. You start playing in large arenas instead of the cramped clubs we've been in. And you have millions of adoring fans! If you can't see this for the sweet deal it is then you're a bigger idiot than I thought. And, if that is the case, then maybe you should pick another career!”

Annie stomped off the stage in disgust. Buzz and Ivory followed her outside to get some air and sat on the stone steps together.

“He’s going to blow this deal and break-up the band in the process,” Annie sighed choking back tears.

Buzz threw a heavy arm over her shoulder to offer some comfort. “No, he’s not. He’s just pissed because his level of control over the band has been diminished. He’s not that stupid to throw away a deal of this magnitude. But he’d like you to think he would.”

“Want a hit?” Ivory asked Buzz, handing him the joint.