Chapter 3 - A Turning Point

The months passed in a blur. It was the same thing every day. School, Danny's house, home - straight to my room. I talked to my parents as little as possible. I didn't want to see them. Didn't want to hear them. I started writing a lot too. Songs or poems, anything I could. I played bass quite a bit too. Danny would help me give my lyrics a melody and he'd get out his guitar and we'd write. Tom would help out too quite a bit. Soon we had a band going, with Harry on drums. It was just a small band in Danny's garage, something to do for fun after school. Something to get my mind off my parents.
But then we started playing gigs. Small ones, that is, but a gig was a gig. We even got paid. But it was still nothing more than a hobby. Something to do.
That is, until we got discovered.
I was sitting at home one night, a rarity for me, but my parents were both out so I figured I'd stay home with Jazzie. I was making something to eat and my phone started ringing
"Hello?" I answered, bored, as I took a bite of the sandwich I had made for myself.
"WE GOT SIGNED!" Tom shouted into the phone. I pulled it away from my ear, "Tom, what the hell are you talking about?"
"You. Me. Danny. Haz. The Band mate. We got signed. Island Records wants us!" he told me.
I choked on the peanut butter and jelly that was in my mouth. I coughed a couple times until I could breathe again.
"You've gotta be kidding me!" I shouted back at him. He explained that they wanted to meet with us tomorrow. See us play, hear some songs and all that. It was completely unreal.
"Why were you shouting?" Jazzie stood at the kitchen door looking confused. I lifted her off the ground and spun around, "I'm gonna be famous!"
"Famous?" she asked, then decided to celebrate with me, "MY BROTHER'S GONNA BE FAMOUS!"
My dad came home late that night, but for once I was excited to see him. Only problem was he was drunk.
"Dad! Dad! Guess what?" I asked when he walked through the door. He just kind of glared at me. "What?"
"You know my band? The one I started with my friends?" I asked, "We got a record deal deal, Dad! I'm gonna be famous!"
"Really...?" he asked me. I nodded and smiled.
"Hm. That's nice." and he left.
Nice? That's nice? That's all I get? I've wanted this for how long now and all I get is a 'that's nice?' I walked back up to my room.
"Dad, guess what? I'm gonna be famous," I paced my room, with my radio blaring, "Isn't that great? You're only son is going to be on the radio. He's going to have his face in magazines. People are going to know him. Isn't that great?" I turned the volume up a little higher, and stopped at my desk, staring at a picture of my dad. "Yeah Dougie. I'm so...proud."
If only he'd actually say that.
My sister stood at my door, "Who are you talking to?"
I sighed, "No one Jazz."
I sat on my bed and she wandered into my room. She sat next to me.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," she said.
"Are you...are you proud of me, Jazz?" I asked her. She smiled, "Sure. You're my brother and I think your band is awesome and the fact that you might be famous is cool and I couldn't be more proud."
"Thanks," I said with a smile.
"You're upset." She told me, "What's wrong?"
"Dad doesn't even care," I sighed, "All I got was a 'that's nice'"
"Doug, he's drunk. Tell him tomorrow." Jazzie said.
"No, that's exactly it!" I told her, "Don't you see. If he cared, he wouldn't drink. He wouldn't fight with mom. He might care tomorrow, but tomorrow night when he's drunk again he'll stop caring. I don't want a dad who only loves me half the time."
I had a hard time falling asleep that night. I knew it shouldn't bother me this much. Jazzie was right, Dad was out of it. He'd be more excited tomorrow. But it still bothered me. And the fact I had such a big day the next day made it even harder to fall asleep. I was nervous and I was sad.
My dreams got a little fucked up that night.

The next morning was our meeting with Island. I got dressed, grabbed my bass, then waited for Tom to come round to pick me up. I poured a bowl of cereal, but just looking at it made me want to throw up. My stomach was already full of butterflies. I just poured it down the sink.
"You know, there's starving kids in Africa who would love to eat that," My sister joked as she sat on the counter.
"Yeah?" I asked, "Well then I promise you that when the guys and I get really famous we'll donate millions of dollars to those kids in Africa, how's that sound?"
"Okay," she smiled.
"If we become really famous, that is." I clarified. I put the bowl and spoon in the dishwasher and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge instead, then sat at the table and grabbed my bass to practice again. My fingers were shaking.
"Nervous?" Jazzie asked. I nodded, "A little yeah."
"You'll do great," she told me, "Good luck, Dougie." She hugged me.
I hugged back, "Thanks Jazz."
Tom honked his horn and I stood up. "Well. Next time I see you let's hope I can say, 'I'm signed with Island. I'm going to be famous'"
"You'll do great," Jazzie assured me again, "Next time I see you, you'll be famous."