Author's Notes: If you noticed earlier in the last chapter before Peyton started to get interviewed, she thought of a mysterious he that left. Now, since I'm not at the point in the story where I want to disclose who that he is, though, you could probably already guess who he is easily. So just keep him in mind.
Chapter Two: When It Should Be Like It Was
The roadies and crew started to set-up Candella's opening act's equipment and gear in a leisured fashion. Peyton looked on remembering the times when she used to help out the various bands that drifted through Tree Hill at Tric set-up their gear with much excitement.
Kat looked over at the process too seeing that Peyton's eyes had been fixated on them. "So, do you like Raptured Skies?" Kat asked looking at the crew.
The name of Candella's opener made Peyton's heart sink. Amos's, the lead singer and guitarist of Raptured Heights, face flashed throughout Peyton's mind. 'Why did I have to sleep with him?' Peyton berated herself for the millionth time since the incident. 'If I hadn't, he wouldn't have left.'
Peyton nodded her head curtly, "Yeah, they're alright. I mean," she answered, "they know how to get the audience amped up for us to come on and have them in a good mood for us."
"Sweet," Kat replied in return turning and looking back at Peyton. "Now when you all recorded you're first album, was it awkward or weird to have some scrutinize over your music and changing it up?"
Peyton shrugged, "Yeah, it was, but if they didn't then someone would've…" she said pausing, "like me."
Peyton kicked at the floor angrily as she listened to the recording play back through the speakers. She didn't like the sound at all— it was too poppy for her.
"Um," she said in an irritated tone while looking up over at the producer, "I thought the direction we were going it was more gritty than anything else, at least that's what you said when we started the project."
Their producer, Jacob, nodded his head lazily, "Yeah, that is the direction, but," Peyton knew there had to be a 'but', "we're going to push this song being the radio-friendly single." He leaned forward against the sound table and stopped the song. "If you guys want to really hook 'em in, you're going to have to meet their needs first, d'you know what I mean?"
Peyton looked around the room at her band mates; they all looked like they had just drank something bitter by the disgusted and unsure looks on their faces, Lucas especially. At the same time, he looked over at her and gave her the 'I can't believe what we got ourselves into' look. She grimaced in agreement.
Jake exasperatedly rubbed his eyes and stood up. "I don't know Jacob, this song isn't supposed to make you want to," he paused trying to think of a good description as he paced about the room, "chew bubble gum when you're listening to it."
"Yeah," Peyton chimed in. "When I wrote this song, I was crying because I was pissed off and sad and angry— this is not what that's sending through this version of the song!"
Jacob nodded his head in understanding, but the band felt like their opinions and rebuttals were falling onto deaf ears. "Okay, okay," he blew a bubble with his gum, "what I want to know is: do you guys want air-time or not?"
Everyone in the band looked at each other nervously. Of course they wanted radio play, but they didn't want "Drowning Waters" to be played as if Candella was supposed to pop or something. They wanted to be abstract and have depth, like Radiohead.
"Because," Jacob continued mercilessly, "if you send your old version to the radio stations, they'll throw it to the side because it doesn't sell to the average listener. They want something that will make preteen girls get giddy about or preppy kids say 'sweet' when they hear it." He looked at each of them with a weary eye of expertise. "They don't want a song playing if it's going to make the listener think 'I want shoot myself in the face'— do you get what I'm saying?"
Lucas huffed and roughly ran a hand over his face. Haley looked like a hurt little puppy. Jake looked pissed off and indifferent to Jacob's opinion. Peyton felt dismantled and disrespected… this was her song, not some label's to do what they will with it.
Jacob asked again with a bit more force, "Do you want a hit or do you want to be unknown?"
"Fine," Peyton spat out vehemently. "Do it, but we won't play this song live like that piece of crap you were playing."
"Drowning Waters" became a hit in the U.S., U.K., and Australia a few months later. The first Candella song to ever be played on the radio and the band changed the station immediately when they heard it.
"So," Katherine continued, "when 'Drowning Waters' came out, it exploded everywhere. The hottest music channels wanted you on their shows, your album started selling like it was going to go out of style, and affiliates came offering you guys the latest and greatest stuff. When all this happened did reality seem to become surreal? Did you ever let your head float too high up in the sky? What were you thinking and feeling?"
Peyton laughed cynically at the thought of those tiring and confusing days. "Let's just say that those days aren't my favorites by a long shot."
Katherine nodded off at the bartender to come their way, but continued to listen to Peyton. "I guess I could understand that. After all, so many people are approaching you with deals, contracts, and promises—you don't know who you can trust and who you can't."
"Exactly," Peyton said softly. She couldn't remember an interviewer who seemed to see from the artist's view point like Katherine did.
The bartender finally walked over to the two, "I'll have the same," Katherine began and then pointed at Peyton, "and she'll have--"
Surprised slightly, Peyton sat up a little straighter from her slouched state. "Um, some coffee would just be fine, thanks."
"Okay," the bartender said as he began to whip up the beverages for the two and place them in front of the correct customer.
Peyton made the move to get out her wallet, but Katherine waved her off. "I got this. Besides, you're a struggling artist trying to make ends meet."
Laughing, "Right, I'm struggling alright."
"Wow!" Lucas gasped in amazement at Peyton's even vaster collection of vinyl. "I thought you were nuts a few years ago, but now— damn!" He stood drinking in the new room. "So this is where your money, or should I say investment, is!" Laughing, Peyton nodded.
Peyton had added a large room onto her house in Tree Hill specifically for housing her vinyl. It had the state of the art stereo systems that specialized in vinyl. All of the walls, from the ceiling to the floor, except for where the head stereo was attached, were covered in rows and rows of vinyl. So for Peyton and anyone who knew what was what about records would be set at awe at the sight.
"How do you know where you have everything?" Lucas asked walking towards the stereo.
"That's the funny thing," Peyton started laughing at her own ignorance, "I started putting everything in alphabetical order, but then that came too much to handle. So I just started to put them up box by box that was shipped in."
Lucas ran his hand cautiously, but lovingly over some of the old school albums. "How many are there?"
Peyton smiled over at the sight of Lucas completely awe-inspired by her little music nest. "About 15,000… I think."
When he heard the number he seemed to sadden more than anything else. Lucas glanced over at Peyton finally and smiled sullenly. "Well," he began as he reached into his black messenger bag, "I guess this won't really be much of an addition then." He pulled out Black Sabbath's 'The Wizard' seven inch—a rare piece of vinyl to come by—and handed it to her.
Peyton's eyes grew wide with astonishment, "Oh my gosh, Luke!" She looked up at him smiling widely, "Thanks, but I--"
"You already have it?" Lucas offered in an unsure manner as he pocketed his hands.
"No," Peyton said quickly, "I mean, I can't accept this… this is… this should be yours."
Lucas laughed softly, "No way! You love Sabbath and you love vinyl, I mean look at your collection. It should be yours."
"Thanks, but you have to be the first one to hear it then!" Peyton replied as she headed towards the stereo area and placed the single on the record player. When it started to play, Peyton turned around to see Lucas giving her a content smile with an endearing twist on it. "What?" She asked intrigued.
Lucas must've finally noticed that he had been staring at her. "Oh, ugh nothing," he said blushing and then nodded off down the hall towards the front door. "I better get going."
"You don't want to hear the rest of the song?" Peyton asked a little bewildered.
"Nah," he answered shaking his head. "I'm just going to leave you to your musical bliss."
Confused, Peyton nodded her head slowly. "Okay, thanks again!"
Lucas turned and looked back at her, laughing awkwardly. "Don't mention it."
Peyton took a sip of her hot cup of coffee leisurely. She subconsciously nodded her head to the beat of Raptured Skies sound check and set her coffee down on the counter in front of her.
"You guys have been practically everywhere—the U.K., Australia, Europe—everywhere. You've toured with the best of the best like Jimmy Eat World, Eisley, Coldplay… which one was your favorite?" Katharine asked off-handedly, like it had just come to her mind. Spontaneity was one of the many characteristics Peyton liked about her first-time interviewer; it was as if she wasn't really interviewing her, but like she was a friend wanting the details.
Peyton shrugged a little and then looked up at the ceiling in thought. "I don't know really. All of them were completely amazing and fun—those bands are so friendly and encouraging." She sank into a comfortable position in her bar stool, "I suppose our first one where we opened up for Motion City Soundtrack because we were so oblivious and confused half of the time."
Laughing at the thought of how many times the band had gotten lost backstage or on the road brought back so many funny memories.
"Okay," Haley said pausing and making the hand motion for them all to halt. "I think the stage is," she thought about it for a second before pointing to the right, "this way."
Jake grumbled just about as soon as she said this. "No that can't be right because I remember specifically that we were over that way before; it has to be this way," he pointing left.
Soon shouting and finger pointing was consuming the lost band's thoughts. Suddenly, Lucas whistled shrilly and the yelling stopped immediately.
"Right," he said softly, not believing that he could control them like that. "Instead of bickering amongst ourselves, let's remember that we have five minutes to get on that stage before an angry mob tears it apart."
His words were true and caused everyone to remember where they were and what they were needed to do.
"The last thing I remember," Lucas continued, "was seeing that red tape there on that black curtain when we came into the venue."
"So we must be at the loading dock," Peyton stepped in.
Lucas looked at her and smiled, "Right."
The band turned around and started walking off in a path that started to remind them of small things they remembered seeing.
"Look, there's the door that leads to the dressing rooms!" Jake said in a brightened manner. Everyone's pace seemed to quicken as they hit the door.
The door swung open wide and hard. Almost immediately they heard a thunderous smack and someone's cry.
"Oh, bloody hell!" A familiar voice shouted. The entire group turned around to see their manager cupping the side of his face, which happened to be bright red. As if on cue, everyone started laughing, that is, everyone except for Guy.
"Ha, ha, very funny." He said sarcastically as everyone continued to laugh. "Bugger off, you have a show to do you slimey gits!"
Howling with laughter, they all made their way to the stage area and took their places in front of many watchful and excited faces. Their set began practically seconds later with their mischievous smiles still dancing happily on their faces.
"So that tour helped you learn the ropes, then?" Kat interjected as she watched off at the loud sound check.
Smiling still at the humorous memory, "Yeah, it was a crash course of one, too." Slowly, her smile seemed to disappear. The thought of all of them laughing and getting over their fights so quickly seemed like centuries ago to Peyton. Where did that all go? When did it all go away? Why did it all go away? Peyton bitterly grabbed a hold of her coffee cup and took one long sip wishing it was alcohol instead. She wished that she could have all of that back with them… she'd give anything to have that back with them.
Author's Notes: Well, I hope you all enjoyed that one! It seemed to pour out of me as quickly as I typed it. Um, thanks for taking the time to read this—it means so much just to know that people are reading it. It's definitely different, haha, definitely. But I'm really enjoying this one… I haven't really enjoyed writing a fanfic in awhile and being able to during this one feels nice. So anyways, thanks again for reading! There was more Lucas-Peyton interaction in this one and hopefully you noticed the small hints of Lucas's affection for Peyton. If not, then I don't know what I should do! Lol. Please, please, please tell me your thoughts! I love hearing about what you all think even if it's constructive criticism or just plain old criticism. Thanks!