London Calling

Opening night.

My favorite night of a tour.

So much potential for a crowd.

They could be amazing. Singling along with every song. Shouting at the top of their lungs. Loving the night with you.

Or they could suck. Just waiting for the band they actually cared about. Not even moving. Just staring blankly at you through your set.

Either way, the only place to go is up.

The next venue brings new crowds that'll either be amazing or suck.

And you work with that.

Casanova on Call plays right before the main attraction tonight. Still unsigned. Still sleeping in our broke down van. Still begging our parents' permission to do the tour. Still hopelessly home schooled. And still rocking out.

Am I proud?

Fuck yeah, I'm proud.

The boys and I have come a long way from sucking in Chris' garage, desperately trying to get the tuning right for Green Day's “Chump.”

We have our own songs now. We go on big tours now. We're as punk as we can be, which isn't much in some eyes. We're still unsigned, but we're working on it.

We're actually working on that right...now.

As Chris slams down the chords and Levi kicks the shit out of his drum kit and Rowan keeps us grounded, I'm searching. Searching for the face in the crowd. For the right note. For the right lyrics.

Nerves. They get everyone, I guess.

But I find the note. I find the lyric.

I'm searching for that something that everyone can buy. I'm searching for the thing that can take me to the sky.

Everyone figures I wrote the song. I'm the singer. Obviously I had to have written the song. They never look back to our skinny ass drummer with the track marks still visible on his arms.

Oh Levs, the one who looks so innocent, the youngest of the guys, shooting up. Ro, Chris, and I did everything to help him other than send him to some shitty rehab. I don't know what finally got to him. Maybe it was my constant worrying. Maybe it was Chris' failed intervention. Whatever it was, it worked.

I breathe in.

Darling, dry your eyes. Help will come soon, and I'll be fine.

Chris sees him before I do. The one we've been searching for all night. He starts doing the universal dance that signified “HOLYFUCKINGSHIT” artfully disguised as some movements influenced by the sound. I have to force myself to turn around and face Levi so I don't stare in the direction Chris was. The rest of the song is just some of my moaning, so there isn't any real audience interaction. Instead, I'm giving Levi my classic freak out face and he just mouths “Calm down, Ali-Bear.”

I pull myself together as I give a last scream as Rowan slams down the chord to end it all.

“We are Casanova on Call! Thank you, good night!”

The crowd loved us. They scream for more. But we're out of time. Techies are taking the instruments and rolling in a new drum set. Chris is picking me up for my post-show piggy back ride. I'm rutting and Levs is laughing at me and Ro disappears to get me some tea to sooth my voice and-

It's him. The one we were searching for.

Tall, lanky, cigarette in one hand, Sex Pistols shirt under a sports coat.

Max Ashbury of Day Tripper Records.

He's smiling at us and I realize that I must look like an idiot, clinging to Chris like a koala in my home-ripped dress and navy blue cardigan. I let myself fall from his back as Rowan reappears with my tea. I take it, still looking at Max.

Levi speaks first.

“You're Max Ashbury.”

“And you're Levi La Follette,” Max replies in his wonderfully British accent. “And you're Chris Roberts, you're Rowan Castrova.”

He pauses for a moment before he speaks as he grins down at me. I never thought I was that short, I'm 5' 4” and come up to Levi's neck, but Max is just a tower standing over me.

“And you're Alison Costello. Named after the Elvis Costello song.”

I grimace. Of course everyone knows my parents thought it was just hilarious that my dad's last name was Costello so they just had to name me Alison. I hated when people mentioned that. It made it seem like they were making fun of me.

“And you're here to sign us, aren't you?”

Max seems a bit shocked. Obviously no one told him that I don't beat around the bush.

“Well, yes.”

“Give us the papers and a pen. We'll do it now.”

“Don't you want to think about this?”

“Look, Max –I'll call you Max-- you're from Day Tripper Records. We've discussed this ever since we started the band. If we ever got signed, we wanted to be on Day Tripper. You're here, we're here. Give us the papers.”

“You do realize your first tour while officially on Day Tripper will be in the UK? This is a British label after all.”

“We know,” Rowan said, much louder than he usually was. I flinched a bit in spite of myself. I know he was just being assertive, but still. The only time when Rowan was loud was when he was angry about something. “Stop wasting time and just please, give us the damn papers.”

Max Somewhat reluctantly handed the papers to Rowan, who immediately started to read it over. Oh Rowan, always looking out for us. Never letting us sign anything without reading it first. Part time manager, part time baby sitter, full time bassist and mediator. God only knows what we'd do without him.

“Okay, here it mentions that we can have one thing provided back stage for us,” he said, pointing to a section of the second page. “Alison needs tea before and after each show to keep her voice healthy-”

“Hey, what about us?”

“Alison is our vocalist, Chris. Vocalist craps out, we don't play.”

“Stupid Ali, getting all the good stuff.”

I stuck my tongue out at him as Rowan turned his attention back to Max.

“And about transportation. Are we hopping in a van or is there a bus involved...?”

“First, tea for Alison is completely fine. What sort?”

“Um, peppermint with a spoon or two of sugar in the pot?”

“I'll make a note. Now, transportation. The label is a bit shy about handing you a bus before you've really proved yourselves across the pond. Besides, you'll be the second act.”

“Who's the main?”

“Adam After Eve.”

“ARE YOU SHITTING ME??”

We all turn to look at Levi, who is practically dancing in place doing this stupid little hand wave that he always does when he gets excited that essentially makes him look like a retarded seal.

“Levs, I take it you're aware of this band?”

“Aware-AWARE? Micheal Redding is the reason I wake up in the morning! He's the best drummer I've ever heard!”

“Levi, calm down.”

“HOW CAN I CALM DOWN?? MICHEAL REDDING, GUYS!!”

Levi continued to gush while I watched Rowan read over the last of the contract. His smile grew as he read the last lines.

“Guys.”

Everything stopped as we turned to look at him.

“We're gonna sign these papers.”

“ME FIRST!”

Levi practically dived over me in his mad dash to snatch the pen from Rowan's hand. My head was spinning.

We were signing to Day Tripper.

We were going on tour in the UK.

I had to tell my parents. I had to tell my mom-

Mom. Shit.

My mom was always the one that fought back and made it barely possible to breathe while on tour. I had to call as soon as we hit the road and immediately after we reached our destination.

“Guys, I have to make a call.”

They all froze, their faces matching mine in the levels of horror that I was facing. If I couldn't go, they couldn't go.

“Do you want me to talk to her?”

“No, I got this Ro.”

He gives me a look.

“Okay, I might.”

I hit the speed dial and give everyone a nervous look as my mother picks up the phone.

“Is everything alright? Are you on the road yet? Usually Rowan calls because you're already asleep. What's wrong?”

“Hello to you too, Mom.”

“Yes, hello Alison. Sorry, I just get so worried.”

“I know. But Mom, I have some news.”

“Is Levi finally clean?”

“What? He has been for months.”

“Oh good, I was worried.”

“How do you even know about that? We didn't tell anyone-HAVE YOU BEEN LOOKING THROUGH MY PHONE?”

“Alison, a mother has to look after her child somehow.”

“THAT IS SUCH AN INVASION OF PRIVACEY, I CANNOT EVEN-”

I took a deep breath. I was losing it in front of Max fucking Ashbury.

“Mom, this is so not why I called.”

“Well obviously.”

I felt the extreme urge to punch something.

“Mom. We're here with Max Ashbury of Day Tripper Records. He wants to sign us!”

“That's wonderful sweetie!”

“He wants us to go on a big tour.”

“Where?”

“Um...the UK.”

“No.”

“WHAT!? Mom! Rowan will be there the whole time and the guys will be there and I'll be fine!”

“No!”

“ROWAN TALK TO HER!” I practically threw my phone at Rowan. He calmly put the phone to his ear and put on a charming smile as I took a large swig of tea, practically scalding my mouth.

“Hey, Mrs. C.”

Ugh. I hated him for being so good with my mom. May the devil take his soul.

“Yes, I'll be there the whole time. No, she won't leave my sight. No, she won't run off with strange people. We'll sleep in the hotel assigned. Yeah. Alright. Of course. I wouldn't let her near that sort of tihng.”

He was winning. Jesus Christ, he was winning. I could tell. Bless that boy. Let the holy ghost bless that boy and protect him from harm.

“Hes, Levi is fine. Chris? Complaining as always-”

“HEY! DON'T BE SPREADING LIES ABOUT ME!”

“Yes, I'm fine. Thanks. You too. Bye.”

He handed me my phone and then the pen.

“Sign. We're going.”