Hey guys! Its the final installement of I Changed. Please enjoy!
Smoke plumed around me, as I took another long drag. Music pulsed around us, but it seemed muted with the second hand buzz floating through the dimly lit bar. The set went good, so we were celebrating, someone was passing around a joint and there was a fresh order of shots. Miami was the first city in the tour, and the first bar was none other than Sailors. It seemed fitting.
Tomorrow there was an interview and a photoshoot, apparently the ex-girlfirend and ex-songwriter of Austin Moon starting her own band was big news. The next day I would finally be moving out of my home of the last three, almost four, years. And in a weeks time we would be on the road. It was borderline crazy, but we were so ready for it.
James was laying back in the booth, a cool effortless smirk on his face, a close-to-done cigarette between his teeth. He watched me watching him, I smiled and grabbed two of the shots and shimmied my way out of the booth, and walked to the back door. I floated through the crowds of people dancing and grinding, and peacefully made it to the backdoor. I pushed it open to the crisp night, I couldn't tell what time of the night it was but the air was alight with a buzz. I sat on the steps and without a blink of the eye the door opened behind me.
"Hello Stranger," I greeted, he sat next to me and I offered him the shot.
He took it, "Its crazy, I have wanted this since I was 13."
"Really?" I smiled, looking down at the amber liquid, "I have never thought you had an aspiration to be a rockstar."
There was the hint of sarcasm, but he had a somber look, "Thank you, Ally."
"I didn't do anything James, you are just good."
He laughed and looked at me, "If we didn't find you, we'd still be playing covers at shitty clubs."
"If I didn't find you guys, I'd be stuck writing songs forever. We work together James," I offered him a smile and he shook his head while laughing.
"To the humble Ally," he raised his glass.
I snorted and raised my glass, "To the totally talented beefcake James."
It was truly shocking to see the apartment empty, I had woken up stupidly early and decided to make myself breakfast. However that turned into a cup of black instant coffee and a piece of bread, not even toast seeing as the toaster was packed away. I sighed deeply and grabbed my phone a sent a text to Jay. Tattoo?
I went to my room and threw on a pair of jeans and defiantly dirty Grateful Dead shirt that most likely belonged to James. I grabbed my keys and some converse before leaving my apartment.
The parlor was technically closed, but I knew Paul or Jay would be in, I arrived and knocked on the glass.
"Good morning beautiful."
I smiled and walked in, Paul followed then sat behind the front desk.
"What can I do for you this morning?" he smiled cheerfully at me.
"I want my nipples pierced," I said nonchalantly. His eyes grew and he shallowed harshly, "Well."
I bit my lip and smirked at him, "But I am here today for a tattoo, babe."
He groaned, "You'll be the death of me Dawson. What are you thinking?"
I handed him a slip of paper with seemingly random numbers, his eyebrows furrowed together, "They're the coordinates of my apartment."
"Why in the hell would you want that?" he wasn't actually taken aback, he knew my tattoos meant something, he was already walking over to the table where he did his stencils.
"Do you want this in your hand writing?"
I nodded and he let me do the honor of making the stencil, "Why the coordinates?"
"You can never forget where you come from, where you started."
He leads me to the table, the buzzing of the needle began and I closed my eyes.
I was only a little late, James was mostly to blame since he was the one with the car. The studio was in the industrial district of Hialeah, it was in some 'abandoned' warehouse. When we got there the production team was frantically waving and pulling us to hurry and get dressed. They told us to bring our own clothes, and do our own makeup and hair, it was a pretty loose shoot.
I was with Delilah in the back dressing room, she was curling my hair while I smudged my eyeliner.
"Are you sleeping with James?" she asked nonchalantly, wrapping another strand around the barrel.
"Not currently," I answered, still focusing on my eye makeup.
"Paul?"
"Tempting, so very fucking tempting," I sighed, "But no, seeing as we are leaving for tour."
"Austin?" she eyed me in the mirror.
"Absolutely not," I snorted, "I'm single currently. How's Mike?"
She smirked and didn't answer. She finished curling my hair, we were trying to achieve giant crazy curls, and she did a pretty good job. She lounged on the ratty couch while helping me decide what to wear.
"Fishnets and mom jeans."
The final product was fishnets, torn up mom jeans, a short black crop top and healed black combat boots.
"If you told me in high school I would be dressing like this, with tattoos and a bad habit of smoking a pack a day, I would have cried," I snorted, Delilah smiled in the mirror at me.
"You should have seen me in high school," she hummed, "I had cherry red hair, feathers, and dreads."
We started cracking up, but I knew she wasn't lying, I had seen a photo or two. Comparatively, she was muted now, her natural red hair was straight and recently cut into a lob. Even her features changed, matured even, softer makeup but there were hints of edger times. Plugs and pierced-to-hell ears and not to mention the countless tattoos.
The photo shoot itself was brief, easier than few others I had been in before, before Austin got famous, before he left and Team Austin was featured together in some teenage catalogues. It felt relaxed, the photographer wanted to capture the vibe of the band and pick up on the "feeling of friendship" between the group. Which I and probably the others thought was mostly a load of shit, but it was much nicer than the overall manufactured and structured interviews from my Teen-Beat days. It focused on the vibe of the band, the goals, the tour. Basic shit.
[BREAK]
The last of shit was sitting in two suit cases in the middle of my sparsely furnished living room. Almost everything was taken care of, talked to my land-lord, a nice almost-seventy-year-old woman who lived in the old folks home of Hialeah. What was supposed to be quick trip in company of Paul turned into an all day event, starting at the old folks home and moving to a bar and eventually his tattoo parlor where I got a few new piercings and contemplated a new tattoo. Luckily I was reminded by a call from Delilah I had shit to do at the studio.
Nevertheless, I was spending the last day in my apartment, currently alone. The years I had spent in this apartment blurred together in cloud of smoke and spite. There were so many people and stories that had passed through my door, offering all sorts of things, free tattoos, alcohol, occasional bud, free cigarettes, and sometimes sex. I laughed starting at the stains and small imperfections that decorated every square inch this whole damn apartment. Still chuckling I grabbed my phone and dialed James.
"Hello Ms. Dawson, this line is not for business inquires."
"Come pick me up smartass," humor seeping into my voice.
"Is that all I am to you? A ride?" I could see the sarcasm radiating off him.
"No you're a hunk, but mainly a ride," I giggle.
"I'll be there in ten."
With that we hung up. I walked back through the apartment for the last time, grabbed my suitcases, and walked out.
[BREAK]
It was our third destination of the tour, and we were somewhere south of Houston, Texas. We were staying in a themed motel, featuring ash basins and the old timey feels of maybe an old-western tavern. It was the day before our show in this town before heading over to Houston to play another show the following night.
James and I had claimed the balcony to write songs and smoke, he was strumming a riff that we brainstormed in the bus ride over from Louisiana, it was more up-beat, less sad then the other songs going on the album.
I was toying with some lyrics, when Delilah slid open the door and plopped down onto the small table between James and I.
"I'm bored out of my mind," she whined, snatching a fresh cigarette.
"Well, what do you want to do?" James asked absently writing down some lyrics.
Delilah had a glint in her eyes, meaning this was staged. I shook my head laughing, "What is it, Delilah?"
"Well," she started, leaning forwards, excitement dancing in her eyes, "There's this thing happening at a bar down the street."
"Something happening?" James looked up, mock curiosity on his face, "In bumfuck-nowhere, Texas?"
"It's an open mike," Delilah started, still excited despite James's comment.
"And?" I was beginning to get curious, Delilah wouldn't have suggested unless it was going to be good.
"It's usually a country bar, but once a month cover bands and rock bands come in and its like a whole thing," she explains, pulling out her phone and showing us pictures of people dressed up in glam-rock and hippie attire.
"You want us to go to this," I asked slowly, letting my cigarette waft smoke.
"I want you guys to sing a couple songs. I already called and asked," she finished.
"So we have no real choice," James deadpanned, desire his tone I could tell he was excited. He never missed an opportunity to perform.
"Not really," she quickly stood and kissed me on the cheek, opened the door and yelled to the guys that it was official. They filtered out onto the balcony, smirks adorning their faces.
"So?" Michael started, his smirk turning into a full shit-eating-grin.
"What covers?"
I sat for a few moments thinking before it hit me, I smirked, "I got it."
Delilah was forced to help me tease the shit out of my hair to get full rockstar hair from my limp blonde mess. We pulled out some good pieces that would fit into the classic rock star look we were going for, bellbottoms, lowered leather pants, mesh, eyeliner. I had put together a mesh top, and some tight leather pants and some shit-kicking boots. With the whole group decked out we headed over to the bar. It was only a block away and when we walked in it was like stepping into 1987, the majority in full glam rock, some Dead-Heads were milling around the clusters of Blondies and Joan Jetts. The place was packed, on stage was a Led Zeppelin cover band rocking out to Houses of the Holy. We walked over to the bar and the guy behind it nicely pointed us where we needed to go. Somehow Delilah worked her magic and got us a prime time spot. We misled with the cover band that were there, the nicest being the Aerosmith cover-band. All of them for middle aged dads who loved playing in a band but never really made it.
"And what about you guys?" Frank, who was dressed as Tyler, asked.
We looked at one another, lost at what to tell him.
"Same thing, just a group of people who like music and appreciated the classics," Michael offered.
The older guys nodded and then went off to set up.
A couple beers later it was our turn, I had just enough alcohol in my system to get a little wild. A private smile was on my lips during set up, and right before we were about to start, James caught it and flashed a dangerous smirk right back at me.
Our first song was a quick hit for the audience, you could smell the pot that had already permeated the room, and this song I considered the perfect song to get high to.
James flashed me a look and we started, switching off between each other, getting used to the vibe of the whole place.
Gimme Shelter - The Rolling Stones
It finished and we were greeted with a round of applause, Frank had moved up towards the stage and offered me a shot. I graciously excepted gestured towards the crowd and threw back the amber liquid.
"How y'all doing tonight?" I tried making my voice low and sexy, the burning from the whisky helped. A few cheers were thrown out from the crowd, the liquid courage was settling my nerves for the next song. Despite the person I become it was still sometimes harder to get loose on stage. Delilah wanted to help for this song so she joined us on stage. I smirked, "Enjoy."
Tim counted off and we started, the crowd immediately recognized the song and started cheering.
"Why don't we do it in the road?"
The whole song was gyrating hips, even getting onto my knees and throwing my body, feeling the music seep into my skin and fill my lungs I was over come with it.
Once it ended I was only slightly breathless, I glanced over to James, his eyes were brilliant and grin was planted on his face. I nodded and we were immediately in the next song. At this point the crowd was on the edge of rowdy, dancing along with. The build of Helter Skelter was accompanied by cheers and singing. If they thought I was giving it during the last song, they didn't know what was in store. James was throughly enjoying the heavy guitar and I was enjoying dancing. At the second verse I was on my knees, pulling out every rock star move I had ever seen. I had almost missed the fact that the song was winding down and ending, while singing along with the crowd. It was our last song and the crows was drunkly swaying and cheering, we bowed and got off the stage. Still giddy and upbeat from performing. We didn't stick around long after that, knowing we need to rest for tomorrow.
I went to bed with a smile still on my lips and the image of James wild eyes.
[BREAK]
We were in a vibrant beach town in LA, we had been playing for awhile to a great crowd. Many fans that we had been gathering for the last six months were there, dancing and singing songs that hadn't even ben formally released for more than a month. Nameless in these short six months had really evolved, we were so much more comfortable preforming and giving it our all each show.
"Hey guys, hope your guys are enjoying the show so far," I said, greeted back with cheers and whistles.
"This is a new little number that we call Float On."
The concert finishes smoothly, it was a little later and I had retreated to the abandoned roof of our rental. It was flat and you could hear the ocean, it reminded me of the loft back in Miami. I was smoking, per usual, just staring out into the ocean. My hair was longer that it had ever been in the last four years. At the six month mark of our deal with Mr. Hawk-Eyes, we were due for a month long break before starting a new set of spread out shows and eventually do a multi-band event from other performers from the label at Madison Square Garden. We decided as a group to hang around this beach town to vibe and write songs.
I was absently playing with my hair when I heard the door to the roof open, expecting James or Delilah I was slightly surprised to fins it was Tim.
"Hey Timmy," I softy greeted, a lazy smile on his lips.
"Is that just a cigarette?" he sounded like he just woke up, he settled down next to me and grabbed the smoke out of my hand to judge for himself what it was.
"Oh very naughty Ally-bird," she laughed and took another, longer drag.
"How are you?" I asked.
"Content, but hella ready for break," he stretched out, and laid back, "I'm gonna rent a bard and go surfing every day and find some more of what your smoking there, maybe write a couple three songs."
I smiled, out of everyone in the band Timmy was the most mellow, stoner type out of us. He always has a lazy smile and three months in decided to grow his hair out. His silvery blonde hair now rested shoulder length and he was just floating around enjoying the ride.
We sat like that for awhile, listening to the sounds of LA mixed with the crash of the waves methodically against the shore.
"Hey Ally?"
"Yea, Tim."
"I'm really fucking happy that I part of this band."
"I'm you're part of it too."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, you absolutely rock on drums and I don't think this band would be shit without you."
He was quiet for a moments, he then sat up and smiled, "Bitchin."
[BREAK]
It was a month before our big show in New York and we had our final bar show in Miami, Sailors had set up another stage, this time on the new rooftop bar. It was a combination of friends, family and a handful fans that had gotten tickets before it became a exclusive show. The set was a composite of new song off the upcoming album, and the hits off our old one.
Familiar faces were in the crowd, Trish and Dez, Lara without my dad, (he was a clarinet conference in Quebec) Jay and Paul, friends of friends, old co-workers, Mr. Hawk Eyes himself, it was just a easy show. After we finished up our set, it could have been Trish or Paul's girlfriend but some yelled at full volume "ENCORE!" that was followed by a chorus of cheers.
We were a little lost or a song so or a few seconds we just stared dumb founded at one another, "I got it, but you guys don't know it yet."
At a loss for anything else in that moment, I turned back to the crowd, "This is a song that I wrote years ago for someone I held very close."
I went over to piano that we had for the set and ran my hands over the keys,
" - Drops of Jupiter - Train - "
I had only ever shown this song to Delilah all those months ago, I hadn't even shown it to James, who had seen almost all of the songs I had written over the years. I sang the song in what felt like haze, when it ended I hadn't even realized the tears that were threatening to fall. The crowd was cheering and I was still stuck in my seat, James quickly pulled me up to bow before we headed off stage.
"God damn Alls."
Still in that haze I almost mistook James's raspy, low voice, for one I hadn't thought about in months, that I didn't even remember. I shook off the emotions that song carried with it and went out to mingle with my friends and band mates. Trisha was hiding a growing bump under her flowy dress, "Hey chica."
She kissed my cheek before pulling into a tight hug, despite the countless texts and phone calls over the last year, it had been forever since we had seen one another face to face.
"Your hair is so long," she gushed running her hands through it.
"I know I guess I just got over cutting it," I giggled.
"But didn't get over dying it," the voice belonged to Lara who had come up behind me. She smiled contently before pulling me into a polite hug, we wandered over to a table to sit down and catch up. Trish and Dez told us of their plans on moving to New York by January because Dez got a job offer working with a documentary company, Trish was working on some designs and it wouldn't hurt being in New York. Lara and my father were contemplating buying a house in Colorado, or maybe Michigan.
"So," I giggled, leaning over to Trish.
"When are you due?" I whispered softly.
She laughed and gave me a quick hushed response, "May."
Later that night, after everyone had filtered out of the venue, and our equipment was safely packed away, we were sitting in a empty rooftop bar, the only light shining down on us was from the Miami skyline. We were sharing a couple smokes, drinking beers and relaxing after almost a complete year of touring. Michael and James were passing back stories from the bus and talking about the less than reputable bars that we had played at. Timmy was laughing along, his head resting back looking up at the sky. Michael's arm slung around Delilah's neck. I felt comfortable.
"How about that time that you and Delilah were getting it on and the walls were paper thin. You almost woke up the whole damn hotel!" James was bursting out laughing, while Delilah was turning bright red.
"Say the guy who has a little too much to drink and sings Sweet Caroline at the top of their lungs," I pitch in to ease Delilah's embarrassment.
"Ally, every time you get drunk you wanna fight literally anything. People, cars, cardboard cutouts," James fires back.
We all laugh and take a swig of our beers, smiling at one another.
"And the clock strikes twelve," Tim declares, lifting his head, "Happy birthday Ally."
"Don't remind me," I laugh, I had managed to pass by my 22nd birthday last year, I didn't have the best luck with birthday over the last few years.
"You didn't tell us it was your birthday!" Delilah looked shocked and slightly pissed.
"It's not my fault you didn't ask," I laughed, I wasn't all that upset. Truly, I didn't even really care.
"Well Miss Dawson, we have to celebrate!" Michael exclaimed, "And you know Denny's always serves free food to birthday girls."
So for my 23rd birthday we sat in a Denny's that had seen so many years of my life pass, the good and bad, this being the best.
[BREAK]
Winter in New York is amazing, really. Unfourtunatly, however, it was all too fucking cold. Growing up in Florida, where seasons are divided into hot, fucking-kill-me humidity and rainy, snow is a natural phenomena for me and the other Florida natives that make up the band.
We were forced to track two whole blocks of fucking-freezing conditions, with a even-colder windchill to make it to the NBC studios for our first TV performance and interview. My usually sexed up, 'edgy' style was being replaced by something that I could actually stay warm in. Nevertheless, I was still pretty sexed up, my hair was now long enough to be considered a formal lob, a recent trip to licensed hairdresser resulted into a presentable, layered, professionally dyed mess of hair. The guys were already in their outfits, ready to go on, but I had to lug my outfit over the two blocks, in the heels I was going to wear. When we finally made it to the studio we were greeted by the stage team and ushered into a warm backstage room. The guys settled in and grabbed a couple a drinks while Delilah and I moved to another room so I could get ready.
I changed out of my loose some leaned and long sleeve top to change into flowy, mid-thigh length, black slip style dress. Modest really compared to what I would have worn only a few years ago. I put my lace up heels, I finished off the outfit with black chocker and a slouchy jean jacket. I opted for a grey toned lip and some simple eyeliner, my hair was already done and with that I rejoined the guys. James and I shared a private smile, while Tim commented on the lack of red lips for this look.
Soon enough we were being ushered to stage for our interview,
"Please Welcome Nameless!"
The audience was directed to applause while we walked towards the couches to greet Jimmy. The usual chair was replaced by a couch with enough room to fit the four of us after the applause died down we started.
"So welcome," Jimmy started.
"Hi," we greeted.
Jimmy introduced us, indirectly explaining to the viewers who we were and what we do, "So you guys have kinda become the new hit thing, how did that happen?"
James took the opportunity to happen, "We just started jamming together and then somehow Ally came around and with good fortune, we ended up getting a record deal. It was all because of luck really."
"You guys are so modest, in the last year you guys have released an album that made the top charts, and are apparently coming out with a new one soon! What's the inspiration, can you give us any hints?"
"Well our last one was about dealing with pain and the past, and it was very much a self discovery album for all of us," I answered, the guys nodded in response, "This one is much more upbeat, brighter really. Kinda of just being content and living in the moment."
"So Ally, you have a crazy history of being almost famous," Jimmy laughs, and I laugh along, understanding the hype around my previous music career.
"Yah, it was been a whirlwind, unfortunately, you know, it never worked out and it just wasn't the right time. I was just a songwriter, and I mean I still am, but now I love preforming and these guys have really helped me discover that part of myself. I wouldn't have a 'music career' without them."
Jimmy went on to ask the guys about there experiences before they made it and about there music history, which resulted in some funny stories and laughter from the audience.
We wrapped up the interview and Jimmy did his usual, 'COME BACK BECAUSE NAMELESS IS PERFORMING A SONG OFF THEIR NEW ABLUM!' bit and then the commercial break started.
We walked over to the actual stage and helped the crew set up and soon enough we were starting, Jimmy announced we were play, "AN AMAZING NEW SONG COUGH SYRUP!"
Cough Syrup - Young the Giant
Jimmy wrapped up, we waved at the cameras and shook his hand before returning behind stage.
It was the might before the huge show at Madison Square Garden, the band wanted to go out and pub crawl, but myself on the other hand had other plans. James was putting on his leather jacket and overcoat in the hall of the suite, the rest of the guys were already in the lobby waiting for him.
"Are you sure you don't want to go out tonight?" he asked walking back into the shared living room.
I shook my head, he smiled and pulled me in for a hug.
"If anything changes just let me know," he said pulling away to look at me.
"Of course," I gave him a big smile, "Now get the fuck outta here, the guys are waiting for you."
I jokingly pushed him, he put his hands up in mock defeat and headed out. After tomorrow we all were due for a three month break, Michael and Delilah were planning on going to Hawaii for their anniversary, Tim was going to fly over to his parents house, and James and I were were planning on a trip to Europe. After a late night of secret telling, I explained how I have never left the country and always wanted to see Paris and London and Switzerland and whatnot, so he promised he would go with me. Apparently the French punk rock scene was sick. After that we were all going to meet back up in LA to release our next album and plan our next tour.
Tonight, however, was a night for reunions.
Trish and Dez had forwarded me some case sensitive information, and an old friend had a concert the day after tomorrow, and was apparently staying in the same hotel.
I took the elevator up a floor, to the really nice rooms and walked up the hall to the very last door.
Three quick knocks, and a whole two minutes of waiting before the door opened.
There was a pregnant silence.
"Ally."
"Hi Austin, can I come in?"
His serious expression broke quickly into an old, familiar goofy grin.
"As long as you don't fuck me and leave," he joked.
I snorted and walked into his room.
We stayed up for a long time, talking, sharing song that we had been writing. Catching up. I don't know how long we sat there, just talking and laughing, just like old times. Like the pain and anger of the three years vanished. It was nice, it was familiar. It was better than forgiving him, it was forgetting the pain in promise of happiness.
The old wounds were gone, without a scar.
Fin.
So that's it . . . for now, maybe. Honestly, if there is a demand, then I could write small blurbs of the future. Like who Ally ends up with, Trish and Dez and their child, Austin's career. I think it would be fun but just leave some reviews and let me know what you would want to see if you want to see anything at all. XOXO its been real
Mimi