Title: She's All Right
Author: iheartmusic
Disclaimer: I hate disclaimers. You know I'm not affiliated with anyone. Not even Kirk.
Summary: A Dave/Lane piece in Dave's point of view. There aren't enough of those kinds, so I thought I'd try and write one since no one else would.
Authors Note: I'm not sure how long this story will be. Maybe I'll leave it one chaptered or I'll write many more. Please just let me know in your reviews. As long as I feel an obligation, I'll keep going. I also was having trouble with where everyone lives, so I just assumed they all live in Stars Hollow. I redid the part about where they live. I decided they live on the edge of Stars Hollow, but go to Hartford. Dave takes an afterschool art class at Stars Hollow.
David looked down at the Stars Hollow paper. It didn't carry much information. He was just looking through it, in hope for an answer. This band thing had been bugging him and Zach's frequent phone calling and Brian's anxiety running weren't helping. Oh not again!
Brian ran through their sliding door.
"I was just thinking, if we don't get a drummer, I could always get my Uncle Bobby to play his computer drum simulator. He's got a laptop, so it'd be really easy. But it'd be a three hour commute, so I was thinking if we got up really-" Dave was usually very understanding, but he couldn't take Brian, running in with a new anxiety or crazy scheme every 5 minutes.
"SHUT UP! Honestly, I'm starting to hate living next to you."
"I can't help it. We've had to turn down 3 gigs already! It's not fair and then, people will start to talk. 'These people don't do gigs. Yeah they're destined to be a garage band forever.'" Dave sighed. He was starting to have this same fear.
"Calm down, Brian. Go home. Use your inhaler. Watch TV," Dave said in his soothing voice, "and I promise I won't let Zach harass you about watching Full House reruns." Dave was used to Brian. They'd lived next to each other for about 10 years. They lived on the edge of Stars Hollow, right by the road to Hartford. They all went to Hartford for school, but Dave took some extra-curricular classes at Stars Hollow, nightly. The town square was still walking distance, but they weren't exactly townies. He didn't usually do the town festivals and things. Zach lived in Hartford. Zach was Dave's best friend from rock'n'roll band camp. This was his special 12-year-old band camp that he'd saved for weeks to go to. It was definitely worth the money.
He was well practiced in acoustic guitar. His dad had taught him. His parents were his driving musical forces. They were so musically inclined. His dad was in a band that almost made it big in New York. His mother was a singer in another band. His parents met when her mother auditioned for the band. She didn't get in, they already had an amazing singer, but she got a date with the lead guitarist.
So naturally, Dave was an audiophile. He'd gone to band camp so he could play like Cobain.
His band was assembled over the summer. And Dave had to admit it, they were okay. Not the Clash. But okay. Their one problem so far was their lack of a strong beat. A strong beat…
Drummer with strong beat seeks band into the…
That was it! He should've gotten to it sooner. I mean the ad took up 4 times the space of a normal one. And so many bands… All of which, he knew and loved. And most of which, they'd already prepared covers for.
He looked back at the ad. Lane Kim. Well, he would definitely have to meet this Lane Kim.
"This looks good!" Brian was ecstatic at the next band practice.
"Yeah and look at all the bands she's into. She's perfect. This is really gonna work!" Dave was getting really excited in spite of himself. He had this thing where he got really excited and either babbled or talked really fast. He tried not to at most times.
"Dude, it would be so cool if she were hot. We would totally get way more fans that way. I mean, we gotta have more than one good looking person in this thing. And you know, that's what draws them in," said Zach, all pompous. Dave gagged while Brian giggled.
"So guys, I'll call her tonight," confirmed Dave, hardly holding back his smile.
"Totally."
"Hey. Um, yeah… I'm calling for the band thing. My name's Dave Rygalski. We have this pretty cool thing going so call me…" Dave felt hopeless. The message had just been so interesting with the David Bowie stuff that he totally forgot what he'd planned to say. He'd written a script and memorized. It had to be perfect. I mean, if he didn't make a good impression, there goes their drummer. "Yeah so here's my number… thanks a lot. Bye."
Great. Well, he couldn't call back. He'd just have to wait. Meanwhile, he could plan his next phone call. Should he go for musical references? Or would that be trying to hard?
He waited all day for a call. I mean, even if she didn't want to be in the band, he just wanted to talk to her…No call. He was not happy. He listened to Quadrophenia, his depressed music. He hung around, strumming his guitar to the song. He pulled out his Dad's band CD, off of his CD shelf. It was a book shelf but he renamed it the CD shelf, because he didn't use it for books. The top shelf had a record player, next to a boom box with surround. He liked the music all around him, like he was inside the song.
His equipment belonged to his dad, before he went corporate. His room had the best sound. When he was seven years old, he ran into this house and screamed in all his rooms and then insisted on playing a guitar solo, before allowing anyone to choose their rooms. "Good acoustics," he said.
He slid the CD in the disc changer. He heard his dad's familiar, guitar strokes and… he was still depressed. He defiantly turned it up louder. There was nothing that music couldn't cure.
He was not any happier when he picked up the phone to dial, but then, just as soon, the phone rang. It was his aunt, thanking him for doing a babysitting job, Dave could only assume, his mom had forgotten to tell him about.
The next day, he still didn't get a call. Okay, he would definitely call back if he didn't get a call by six.
"Hey. You've reached Suffragette City, and if you're calling about Lane Kim's ad, sorry, we're not in, but don't commit Rock N Roll Suicide! Just crank a message at the feedback!"
"Hey my name's Dave Rygalski. I'm calling about the ad. I left my number, before, so call when you get a chance."
"Where's my…"
"Relax, I'm coming!" God, Kathy. Pick now to need your Barbie. Damn cousin sitting duty.
At his afternoon class, Dave leaned over towards Janie. Art was fun. He was drawing a crying guitar. They were supposed to draw a would-be still life. They had to make an object to true form, but then characterize it. By random seating chart, he sat next to Janie Fertman. She was always twirling her hair, but she always seemed to know what was going on with everyone. She was known for her 30 second biographies.
"Janie, do you know a Lane Kim?"
"Yeah, totally. She's really nice. And if you like her, totally single. Pretty, smart, but her mom's a nut job. She was really fun as a cheerleader. Got us listening to some awesome music. The Black stripes or something…"
Cheerleader… Maybe she's high maintenance? But she got cheerleaders into the White Stripes; that's got to be pretty persuasive.
"What does she look like? You know any distinguishing factors?"
"You're clueless, aren't you? She's Lane Kim. You'd know her if you saw her. She always wears these rock t-shirts over her normal clothes. I told her that if she was going for the rocker chick thing and wants people to buy it, she should totally get some bands that people have heard of, but it's useless. She lives on Elm, so she's always hanging around Luke's. And she always goes to town meetings. Do you like my daisy?" She was drawing a wide flower with a big smile on its face.
Dave smiled politely and said, "Yes. It's nice." Unoriginal but nice.
Dave didn't usually go out on the town square at this time of day in Stars Hollow. It was usually deserted because of the various activities going on around town. Tonight it was the town meeting. But Dave had a special purpose here.
He hung around for awhile outside, waiting for the meeting to be over. He heard some yelling about giant horses and thought it might be funny to go in and listen, but soon, there was a general burst of noise as people walked out of the dance studio, in loud conversation.
He spotted a group of young women. One of them, mid-30s, and the other two were about seventeen. She was little and seemed to be in catching-up mode. She was wearing a Dead Kennedys shirt and for a moment, Dave tried to picture her in a cheerleading uniform. Then he remembered she was a future band mate.
Well, he thought, I better go up to her.
"Excuse me. Lane?" he asked, smiling and holding out his hand. She shook it. She was really pretty. He was really happy all of a sudden.
"That's me."
"Okay. Great. I'm Dave Rygalski."
"Right, hi! You're a guitarist," she said. She seemed fascinated by this. He made some sort of jubilated gurgled noise as a reply. She was smiling. "But how'd you know I was me?" Well, I asked around…
"The Dead Kennedys shirt was a tip-off." Whoa, it was so cool. She started talking about Jello Biafra and his unfortunate replacement. She was fast talking and funny. "What's next? Urkel joining the Wu-Tang Clan?"
"Or maybe Malcom in the Middle fronting for the Butthole Surfers," he offered, in jest.
"Some things are sacred." Wow. She was all knowing, Nancy to his Sid. Actually, no. That would be bad.
"So, uh, what's your band like?" Oh god. Weigh your words wisely kid.
"We do a lot of cool covers- uh, the Clash, the Kinks, et cetera… Statistically, it's like thirty-eight of the forty-three bands you listed."
"Nice percentage." Great, now she knows you sat there counting. But she's smiling… She seems so… serene.
"I can play you a song we demo'd a couple of weeks ago, using a drum machine." Dave reaches into his bag and pulls out his amps and a walkman, along with other equipment.
"What's all this?" she asked, smiling.
"Well, this is a headphone amp and it just boosts the volume and makes the clarity off the hook, and then these are Grado 125s, which is just really, killer, killer portable sound," oh yes he was babbling again, "I'm sort of an audio geek, sorry." He was about to cringe.
"No, don't apologize I love you." Really? "For that, for being that way…" Now Dave couldn't help but smile. "Do you wanna go over by the bench and have a listen?" She was so cute, so nice, so smart and so musical. Even the way she laughed. He totally had his mind made up.
"Yeah."
"Okay." They made their way over to the bench. She seemed excited. He placed the headphones on her ears. "Yeah, this is Should I Stay or Should I Go. You know, the Clash? You'll have to bear with me on the fact that we seriously lack any rhythm as that drum machine is hard to maneuver with."
She listened, straight faced and her eyes glazed a little. She smiled and felt herself bobbing her head. It's always tease tease tease, you'll have me when I'm on my knees… One day it's fine and next it's black. So if you want me off your back… She made drummer hand motions in the air. Then, she noticed that she was on a bench, with a very talented and attractive guy. She stopped abruptly. The song ended and she took off the headphones.
"Hey, why'd you stop drumming?" he said, with an amused air, "I mean, if we were in the middle of a set, we can count on you to keep drumming?"
"Well, I'm not usually being watched, when I listen to music… I mean, it doesn't really occur to me how stupid I must look…"
"You look good." Dave cringed again. "When you're doing that. You look happy, very calm, like you have no worries… I only hope you meant it…" He had done the babbling thing. Again.
"Yeah. I mean, it's so great. You're so great- you guys are so great and if you want, I can, audition for you, that is if you like me or want me... as a drummer, I mean."
"I don't need an audition. I saw you during the song. You really thought it was good?"
"It's great, it really is." She was smiling and laughing again.
"Okay, cool. Well, listen, then I'll talk to the guys, uh and we can get together and play next week."
"Sure. Um, I've got to get home," she said with a look that was a mixture of panic, happiness and relief.
"All right, it was nice meeting you Lane."
"Same here." She'd gotten up.
Dave weighed the situation. This meeting was pleasant. They had their drummer, he was sure and she was pretty and… she was taking her shirt off. Dave sat on the bench staring, but then was silently relieved to see the shirt underneath that said, "Trust God." More than anything, to justify his staring, he said. "Trust God, is that a band?"
"No. My Life," she said as she walked away. He gazed after her, awestruck and slightly bewildered. What does that mean? Did she just escape from a convent? Yeah. Right. Well, whatever. Right then, Dave was in a blissful state. He'd met his drummer.
A lyric from a David Bowie song, came to mind. A classic, Suffragette City. She's all right.