Let's Make Waves

This was it. No more working overtime in a clothing store, catering to women who kept commenting on my nose ring and urging me to smile more. No more living paycheck to paycheck, praying that I made enough working on commission to pay my rent. No more worrying about the insane amount of student debt I was being buried under.

The record label loved our demo. They loved my voice and my lyrics. Pages ripped straight out of my diary and put to song. God, that thought scared me.

Water Waves was going on tour with Untamed Highs.

This dream that I had ever since I was a little girl, it was finally coming true. The naysayers and bullies from my past were all proven wrong. My passions mattered. My music mattered. I mattered.

My name is Eve-lynn Alexis Greene and I’m front woman of this wonderful band, and we just got signed by one of the largest labels in Las Vegas.


“That’s amazing news!”

My brother Tristan had always been my biggest fan. Our parents supported our outlandish dreams, but even their tolerance had its limits. The one person I could always count on was him. It was a shame I hardly ever got to see him nowadays, with his job taking him overseas frequently.

“I still cannot believe this is actually happening,” I replied to my phone on speaker, positioned on my bed as I moved around my room.

“I knew it,” he chuckled confidently on the other end of the line. “Maybe not the exact time and place, but I knew you’d make it big someday.”

I opened my closet, rummaging through my clothes and picking out a few key pieces I wanted to bring with me on tour. Some shirts and sweaters, with long and short sleeves, cropped and baggy. Some dresses, some skirts and some jeans.

“Have you told mom and dad yet?” Tristan asked as I refolded and reorganized my clothes in cohesive piles sorted by weather types.

“I told them,” I sighed as I walked to my underwear drawer and started pulling out all my good sets. “Mom was excited, but also told me to be careful, and that if this didn’t work out the way I wanted I should be happy I could fall back on my college education.” I mimicked my mother’s tone of voice, which made him laugh in recognition.

“She’s just looking out for you,” he said. I knew this was true, but sometimes a simple ‘that’s great, honey’ would be nice.

“I know,” I finally answered. “And she’s right. I should be happy that UNLV agreed to give us all a year long extension without any extra costs. Although that might have more to do with Poppy’s father dropping a big donation in support of the library renovation, and less with actual charity, but I’ll take it.”

We talked a little more about the upcoming tour, and the multitude of problems that accompanied being an adult, but eventually all good things had to come to an end.

“Hey, I got to go. The tour guide is here, which means I’m officially on the clock.” Tristan was a photographer for this travel magazine, which meant he got to see all these excotic places. He always vowed he would see the world, and now he was actually doing it and getting paid for it.

“Fine. Go be adventurous,” I laughed. “I’ll keep you posted.”

“You better,” he chuckled. “Later, Eef.”

“Love you. Later.” I hung up, turned on my heel and dropped myself onto my bed like a starfish, staring up at the ceiling and finally acknowledged the knot that’d formed in the pit of my stomach.

My mother had a way of getting inside my head. Her words were always carefully chosen seeds, that planted doubt and worry wherever they were spoken.

What if this was all that would come out of my music career? A short lived tour with a band that would forget we ever existed the moment the last venue was played. A record label that saw us as merely an entertaining opening act and nothing more. Would I be able to come back to UNLV as if nothing had ever happened? Would the guys be able? Would Poppy?


Minutes later Poppy burst through the door, as is my thoughts had summoned her from whatever plane she existed on whenever she wasn’t around us mere mortals.

“Shit,” she whispered, pushing her ray-ban sunglasses up into her strawberry blond curls. “Don’t you own something that isn’t black?” She stared at my neatly crafted piles of outfits, as I slowly started loading them into my duffel bag.

“I have some dark green and blue in here too,” I joked. She seemed unamused, but let me of the hook with a simple sigh.

“You almost ready? The driver will be here in twenty minutes.”

Twenty minutes and we’d be on our way to meet up with Untamed Highs, their manager and a label representative to discuss the tour. A couple hours later and we’d be off to our first venue, and tomorrow we would perform in front of thousands of people for the very first time. I’m not sure if I’d ever truly be ready for that.

It was all happening really fast. A few weeks ago we met up with someone from the label at the offices of Poppy’s father to sign legal documents about our up and coming partnership. Than it went quiet for a short while, until we got a notice three days ago to pack our bags and get ready for tour.

“Yeah, I just need to get a few more essentials and than I’ll come downstairs.”

The doorbell rang and Poppy eagerly opened the front door for Nathaniel and Peter. Nathaniel, who usually went about life clean shaven, was trying to grow out a beard, and the soft fuss on his face aged him down instead of up, which was far from the desired effect.

I looked about my room one final time, before heading downstairs with my two carefully packed duffel bags, hugged my roommates goodbye and headed out with everyone, as Poppy informed us the driver had pulled up to my house.

Just as we were about to head out, Jonathan arrived. Perfectly on time. We could always count on him to either be on time or be late, which resulted in none of us being surprised by his last-minute appearance.


The drive over was spent in an unusual silence. Even Poppy, who always had something to say, seemed awfully quiet. There was a heaviness to the air, and we were all extremely aware of the fact that this could make or break us.

Out of everyone here, I’d known Nathaniel the longest. We’d grown up together. He used to live across the street from my parents house. My parents always believed we’d one day end up together, but I say a girl can be friends with a guy without it needing romance. During high school we met Jonathan, who introduced us to Peter, and thus our band was formed. During senior year, I met Lillian and was instantly smitten by her talents. It took me some convincing, but eventually she joined us and we believed we were all set.

But than Lillian left us, without saying so much as sorry. We all understood her choice, but she made us out to be the bad guys for being upset with her departure, rather than understanding our genuine sadness with her leaving us. I haven’t heard from her since, and the boys never speak of her. At this point it’s as though she never existed.

Nathaniel placed his hand on my knee and gave it a soft affirmative squeeze.

The building we pulled up too was a daunting forty story glass building, standing tall between two much smaller buildings. The foyer was decorated with small trees in giant concrete planters. A woman, dressed in a dark blue power suit greeted us and lead us towards an all glass elevator and up thirty-seven stories. We walked down a very long and empty hallway and into a small seating area with a bright purple sofa and mustard colored armchairs.

“Miss Feralle will be with you shortly,” she spoke before taking her leave. We all nodded, looking around the room at a loss for words.

It didn’t take long before Poppy started complaining about the lack of service around this place. She was nervous, I could tell.

“I’m sure we’ll get something to drink once we’re sitting down with everyone,” I stated, having sat myself down in one of the armchairs and flipping through a fresh copy of one of my favorite music magazines. The way she sighed and tilted her head, I could tell she was about to have one of her fits, but luckily Peter brought on a perfect distraction.

“Look at all the bands that had their start here.”

The guys were walking around the room, eyeing the various plaques on the wall, signed by a great amount of well known bands, all of which were signed here when they were practically unknown, just like us.

“Mark my words, you guys. One day we’ll be hanging on the wall,” Poppy mused.

“That’s exactly the kind of passion we are looking for,” a voice sounded behind us.

We all jumped, as composed as possible, which made the dark skinned woman laugh. Poppy had dramatically pressed a hand against her chest in response.

The woman before us was wearing a pinstripe pencil skirt, with a nonchalant white blouse and a chunky black necklace that matched her black earrings. Her hair was done up in a tight bun, and while her outfit seemed casual chic, nothing about this woman seemed casual.

Poppy seemed instantly enamored by her.

“Water Waves, I presume,” she smiled, extending her hand to each of us individually. “The name is Avery, and I’ll be your main contact with the label. Would you please follow me?”

She headed out before us, the sound of her heels echoing off concrete walls and ceiling high glass windows. We quietly followed. The suspense was eating away at me, as the entire situation suddenly dawned on me, as if someone had pinched me and I finally realized I was not sleeping. This was actually happening. We were actually going on tour. This label wanted to represent us. They believed in our music.


Avery opened the door to a large room with grand windows, a long black table at its center and faux-glass chairs, on which sat a handful of individuals that I recognized. These were the members of Untamed Highs.

“Please take a seat.” Avery gestured at the empty chairs before us and took a seat herself at the head of the table.

A pale woman, with red hair and strong facial features rose from her chair and introduced herself as Louise O’Marley. She was Untamed Highs manager, and was looking forward to being on the road alongside us.

“I heard you are on the market for a manager?” she continued, looking down at her phone a few times while eagerly texting with someone on the other end. She didn’t strike me as uninterested in our presence, more eager to help us out wherever she could.

We went around the table introducing ourselves and shaking hands. I tried to exude confidence the best I could, locking eyes with everyone from Untamed Highs as I gave them a firm handshake. I already knew their names, as I’d been a fan of their music ever since their first album dropped, but I tried not to let that side of me show.

Mid conversation with Avery and Louise, the door opened and a middle aged man walked in, loudly talking on the phone.

It sounded as though he was having an argument with someone, but the words he used all sounded foreign to me. Something about a date needing to move, and someone needing to do something with something. It was all very confusing, but eventually he loudly told them to get it done, before hanging up the phone and dropping himself into one of the remaining empty chairs.

“Victor, how nice of you to join us,” Avery coldly noted, an eyebrow cocked and head slightly tilted. “Water Waves, this is Victor. He’s been managing the tour thus far, and made it possible for you to join Untamed Highs.”

Victor didn’t make eye contact with us, but simply nodded as Avery spoke. He kept his eyes glued to his phone in the same fashion Louise had done earlier, but where she made us feel welcomed into the fold, this felt like a cold shoulder.

“I had to pull some strings, as some venues were expecting a more alluring opening act, but I made it work in the end. You better not disappoint.”

A familiar knot formed in the pit of my stomach as his words reached my ears. It felt like a ball of yarn being looped and pulled tight. A wave of nausea washed over me, and colour drained from my skin. Something about the way he only half acknowledged our presence, and spoke his chosen words made me feel inadequate.

“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised,” the guy who had introduced himself as Levi responded. “Anthony played us their demo and they’ve got talent. They wouldn’t be sitting here if they didn’t.” He turned to look at me and flashed me a reassuring smile. “Besides, you’re Victor Wesley-Lambert, you make the magic happen, right?”


It was smooth sailing from there. Avery went over our schedule with the various studios we would be recording at during this tour. She went on to tell us which songs from our repertoire would be represented on this album, and made a point to note that these songs should be featured on our setlist for this leg of the tour.

Louise chimed in to confirm that she’d be our temporary manager, while the label would look for someone to represent us after the tour was over. I was enchanted by her. There was something about her that exuded power, and I felt myself drawn in by it.

Victor didn’t say much to us, and when he did talk he would refrain from making eye contact unless it was with Avery or Louise. He didn’t even acknowledge Untamed Highs, which was shocking but also calmed me down, knowing that it wasn’t just us but all musicians made it easier for me to shake it off to some degree. It was clear he felt himself a cut above the rest.

When the meeting was over, he got up without a final handshake and spoke only to the leading women before taking his leave.

“Are you okay?” Nathaniel asked as we left the board room and we’re headed out to see our tour bus for the very first time.

“I’m fine,” I lied, willing myself to fake a smile even though I wanted to throw up. I didn’t want to be that person; the one who made a scene. Poppy was perfectly capable of filling that role. I was the girl that kept things grounded and never lost her cool. I tried to convince myself that the fact that everyone from Untamed Highs was being welcoming and kind proved that we belonged there, and that our interactions with Victor hadn’t been a disheartening experience. I tried to tell myself that I was blowing things out of proportion.

Nathaniel saw right through me, but allowed me to deal with it on my own terms.


Our bus was impressive. It housed a small kitchen with a refrigerator, cooking plate and microwave. We had a small dining area that fitted four people at max, and a sofa on which we could lounge during long drives. The bus continued into a sleeping area, sectioned into various bunks, which the boys started arguing over immediately. Nathaniel wanted the top bunk because he’d always dreamed of having bunk-beds, and this was the closest he’d ever get to it, but Jonathan argued that this would be a safety hazard as it was a well known fact that Nathaniel was a very active sleeper, and he could tumble out of bed in the middle of the night.

“Who cares,” Poppy chimed in, as she threw her stuff into the middle bunk on the opposite side of the boys, Dior sunglasses balancing elegantly on her nose. “Once we hit the venues, we are sleeping in hotels anyway. These will only be used during night time travelling, or when you guys find yourself too stoned to keep your eyes open while we’re on the road.”

It helped the argument only slightly, but once they continued on, Poppy tossed her head back and exclaimed that she needed to smoke. As she vanished from the bus, I continued to explore and found a toilet - which I quickly informed the boys was for peeing only - and a larger lounge area in the back with a television, playstation and a large curved couch.

It would not compare to Untamed Highs tour bus, but it was ours and that made it special in its own rights.

The boys continued to argue about which bunk would belong to who, as I pressed past them after stuffing my stuff in the bunk beneath Poppy’s.

I loved sleeping low to the ground. When I moved in with my roommates a year ago, I slept on nothing but a mattress for months. They decided I needed an actual bed frame, but I was perfectly content sleeping on the floor.


As I exited the bus, I watched a few roadies load our gear into a white mini truck. The stuff that’d been neatly set up in our rented studio space, carefully packed and stacked to come with us on this adventure.

“Feels surreal, right?”

Blane Holloway was Untamed Highs bassist. He stood tall at 6’ foot, wore his hair naturally curly and has a subtle stubble on his jawline. Between his fingers I could see a Marlboro light cigarette, which he brought to his lips after he’d spoken his words.

“A little bit,” I acknowledged. “I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, if I’m being honest. We’ve been sending our demo around for a while and hardly ever heard back from any of the record labels we’d reached out too. But, somehow Poppy manages to use one of her connections and we’re on tour in record time. It all feels too good to be true.”

“That’s usually how it goes,” he smiled, taking another drag and blowing out a plume of smoke into the crisp autumn air. “We struggled for years, playing talent shows and open mic nights at local bars. One day we were playing the right gig at the right time, and before we knew it we were opening for a band we’d always admired, hopping from studio to studio recording our first album. Levi even broke out in hives at one point, trying to write all these amazing songs to impress the label. Much like you, he was afraid the other shoe would drop and everything would get taken from us.”

“That was five years ago,” he added. “Sometimes there is no other shoe.”

“God, I hope you’re right,” I replied, slipping my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “I really hope you’re right.”