The other guy came back in the room, and Paul said to him, “Yo, Dylan, let’s get this boy some breakfast.”
Now I recognized the guy who’d passed through. Dylan Wolf. He’d been a street busker like me before signing a big record deal with Morris Music.
Crazy luck. Last night I had movie actresses hanging on my arm. Today a rock star the size of Adam Levine had shown up to take me to breakfast.
LA was definitely where it was at.
“You’ll get used to that bullshit,” Dylan said, waving at the tabloid. “According to that, I’ve got six girls in every city.” He gulped a bottle of water.
“Nearly cost you Jessie a time or two, as I recall,” Paul said. “Bloody leeches, that’s what they are.” He stood up. “You coming, Tennessee? Might as well get to know somebody who actually makes money in this business.”
Dylan shook his head. “The only difference between me and you is dumb luck,” he said.
I dragged my second pair of jeans out of the bag, and jerked them on. I barely had my boots shoved on my feet before Dylan and Paul walked out the door. “You coming?” Paul asked Jazz through the doorway.
Jazz still had his hand over his eyes, as if he was allergic to the sun. “Nah, man. You go on. Hair of the dog over here,” he said.
“Cool if I leave my stuff here?” I asked Jazz.
“It’s cool,” he said. “I’ll be here until the gig tonight.”
I followed Paul and Dylan outside to a sleek little blue Maserati. I could admire the ride without feeling any sort of need to own it myself. I’d already figured out that owning things just tied you down, and freedom had been my only valuable possession for a while now.
I ducked into the backseat. The engine started so quiet you could barely tell it was running.
I sat back, thinking over the crazy luck I’d had since arriving in LA. Running into the band, singing at the gig, Jenny, and now meeting Dylan.
But just saying her name in my head made my thoughts turn back to her. The beach, her hair flying as she ran naked in the dark, splashing in the surf. The images were seared into my head. A longing for her started to pulse in my chest.
I had to forget it. She belonged to someone else anyway. And she’d been so crazy, doing all that with me despite her boyfriend or whatever. She’d do it again. One thing I knew, cheaters never changed. It wasn’t the first time I’d found out a girl had something on the side.
My thoughts only glanced against that dark muddy night in Chattanooga before I forced them away. Hell, I was acting like I was interested in a relationship or something. I didn’t even have a place to sleep.
Dylan and Paul were talking nonstop about somebody they knew, a guy in another band. I tuned it out and stared out the window. We weren’t among posh mansions anymore, but gray streets and sketchy-looking businesses up close to the curb.
People walked along the sidewalks, headed for bus stops or just strolling along, oblivious to the world. I took it all in, already feeling inspired by this city to write a song about seeing it for the first time.
Words came to me, and a line of a melody. These were the best days, when the muse was sittin’ on my shoulder.
You might be right
We might both live to regret it
We might just lose everything
We worked so long and hard to build
But what I felt last night
Well, I never will forget it
“So what’s your name?” Dylan asked.
I met his eyes in the mirror. “Chance McKenzie,” I said.
“From Tennessee, I take it,” Dylan said.
“Used to be,” I said. “I reckon I’ll figure out a place to settle down eventually.”
“LA’s not a bad base.” He pulled up to a light. “Nashville seems like it would have been a good fit for you.”
I shrugged. “I tried it. Not my scene.”
“You write your own stuff?” The light turned green and we took off through the intersection.
“I do,” I said.
“He sang one last night,” Paul said. “It was all right. The boy’s got talent.”
Dylan turned into the parking lot of a diner. “It’s a tough business,” he said as he pulled into a spot. “Everybody’s got to make their own way. We can talk about your plans if you want to.”
I didn’t know how much I wanted to bandy about my plans, since I didn’t have any, but I could definitely put away some breakfast.
As for my past, I kept those cards pretty close to my chest. But it wouldn’t hurt listening to what this guy’d been through to get where he was. Not that his way was the path for me. I didn’t need any glitz or glory. But probably he had experiences I could learn from.
I’d forget the girl. Focus on today and nothing but today. I’d been doing it for a long time. No use changing it now.
Chapter 17: Jenny
I could barely stand to look at my own television. Corabelle let out a squeal.