Guitar Notes Tug Heart Strings

“So we have another gig on Friday night,” Braden said standing in front of the band with a clipboard. “And tomorrow we are heading to the studio.” He said looking at Ren.

“Okay, I have a new song ready, the guys’ have heard it.” He said and nodded towards his band mates.

“Good, okay and then next week we hit the road for two weeks.” He turned and looked at Cecelia. “Did you figure out what you’re doing?”

“Well, my boss okayed it for me to go. So really it’s up to the band if you guys feel comfortable with me tagging along. I’ve been on the road with bands before, so I know the routine.”

“It’s fine by me,” Nick said shrugging. “Could be cool.” Mark, Jake and Steven all nodded in agreement.

All eyes went to Ren. He lifted his eyebrows and looked at all of them.

“What, am I the deciding factor now?”

Cecelia rolled her eyes and waited for his response. He seemed to be the most aggravating member of the group. He wrote beautiful lyrics but she suspected if his fans knew the real lead singer, they’d run the opposite way.

“Sure, whatever,” he mumbled before standing up and taking out his phone. “We good? We’re meeting tomorrow?” He asked.

“Yeah, be there at noon please.” Braden said sighing.

Ren nodded and left Braden’s house. The rest of the guys dug into the food that was just delivered.

“So how’s the story coming along?” Nick asked as he crunched on an eggroll.

“It’s good, you guys have been awesome and so helpful. But every time my editor asks me about Ren I know he’s disappointed.”

Mark swallowed the food in his mouth before he replied. “He’s kind of a locked up kind of guy. He didn’t open up to us for a long time.” He said as he rubbed his hand over his shaved head.

Jake nodded. “I mean, I’ve known him since we were in middle school and he’s just always been that way. But it’s also like he’s taking it to a whole different place with you.”

“What do you mean?” Cecelia asked as she leaned forward in her seat.

“It’s like he’s openly trying to be mean and nasty.”

---

“Hey Ren, its Cecelia.” She said into the phone. She was sitting in her apartment in her office attempting to write the first installment of her story. Jack had been calling her all morning, waiting for it.

“I really need to talk to you about my story, I’m on deadline today.” She said and sighed. “Well anyway, call me back.” She hung up the phone and ran her hands over her face.

Ren had been dodging her phone calls and emails for the past week. They had a gig that night, and she needed more information from him.

“I think the rest is great so far,” Jack said that morning. “But, you need something from Ren. People love the singers, you need to pick his brain.”

“You’re right,” she said as she shot another email to the singer. “I am working on it as we speak.”

“Great, get me the draft before their show tonight.”

She slammed her head against the desk and sighed. She wasn’t proving anything by not handing in a story without Ren contributing. She was just proving she wasn’t ready to handle the bigger bands.

She closed her eyes and drummed her fingers on her dark wooden desk. Finally, she closed her laptop, grabbed that, her chargers and phone before heading downstairs. If Ren wasn’t going to answer her, Cecelia was going to go find him and make him talk.

---

Walking into the studio doors she heard Ren’s voice singing a melody. She stopped and closed her eyes. His voice sounded sad, the song ending abruptly.

She walked around the corner and saw him sitting at the station moving switches around.

“Finally I found you,” She said plopping into the chair next to him. He raised his eyebrows and looked around.

“I didn’t know you were,” he said leaning back into his own swivel chair.

“Cut the crap, you’ve been ignoring my emails and phone calls.”

He slid his phone out of his pocket and hit the round button. “I’ve been here all day, trying to get this song down before it slipped my mind. My phone’s been dead.” He slid it onto the surface and folded his fingers together.

“What can I do for you Cecelia?”

“First call me Cee, everyone does. And I need your help for my story.” She opened his laptop and booted up her story. “Look, I know you don’t like me, you don’t like reporters. But I really love my job, and I want to hand in a good story. I’m stubborn and never hand in anything less than my best.”

“I don’t hate you,” Ren said looking into her green eyes. He sighed and took off his black beanie. Running his hands through his long messy dark blonde hair he closed his eyes.

“My brother, Michael, was sick for a long time. Way before we got famous,” he said. Cecelia watched him. His lips frowned and pulled on his eyes. He seemed so sad and she knew he didn’t talk about Michael much.

She closed her laptop and watched him. He opened his eyes and slightly smiled. “When the press found out, they always brought it up. They’d ask why I wasn’t home for him. And sure enough we were on the west coast when my mom called saying he passed away.”

She saw the tears beginning to build it up in chocolate eyes. He cleared his throat. “It makes me a little hesitant to get close to reporters.”

She nodded and slightly smiled. “I understand, and those reporters are assholes for asking questions like that.”

He rubbed his face and she placed her hand on his arm. His lanky arm stiffened for a moment.

“And I’m not going to put anything into a story you don’t feel comfortable with. I don’t try and make my interviewees look bad. That’s never my intention.”

“Thank you Cee, you want to listen?”

She smiled and nodded. “I’d love to.”