Rocked Up

That’s the day I was born.

When the house lights came on at the end of my last song and I said thank you and good night, I spotted Mr. Robson at his sound booth. He was smiling and waving his hands in the air. Seeing him so proud of me is one of my nicest memories.

Over the next year and a half I played at the theater often, and sometimes I would play other venues in town with Ms. Sugar. She always looked out for me and I could tell she wanted me to do well. It was she who got in touch with Ramsey Records.

At seventeen I was actually making some money. It wasn’t much, but at least I could pay for the Dilallo burgers sometimes. Sugar would always give me a few bucks at the end of the shows and Mr. Robson said there were more people there to see me and that’s why I played last. For some reason, he didn’t seem so sweet on Sugar anymore, but he didn’t talk about it.

People seemed to know me around town because one of the shows I played made it on TV. I hoped my father was allowed to watch television in jail and would recognize me. I wasn’t spending any time at foster homes anymore because I would get in trouble for coming in so late after shows, but I had friends in the city that let me sleep on their couch. More often than not I would sleep at the theater in the backstage area. Mr. Robson pretended not to know I did that.

It was a rainy winter evening the day Sugar introduced me to Ronald.

That night, I said goodnight to the crowd and smiled at Mr. Robson in his sound booth who was clapping and waving his hands as enthusiastically as ever. I walked offstage and Sugar greeted me with a funny smile.

“There is someone I think you should meet, Brad.”

I followed her backstage and out the back door into the alley behind the theater. The cold winter rain made everything dark and there was a black limo with tinted windows parked in front of us. Sugar opened the door to the limo and slid in, motioning for me to follow her.

“Ronald, darling, how are you?”

Sugar spoke differently than usual as she addressed the large man sitting across from us. Ronald didn’t look at Sugar; his eyes stayed on me.

He looked at me like he and I were aware of some kind of amusing secret. I smiled and nodded as if I were agreeing to something, but the truth is I had no idea what was going on.

“Brad, look, I’m hearing good things, and I liked what I saw tonight. I’m willing to work with you. How old are you?”

“Seventeen,” I answered.

Ronald smiled. “Do you know who I am?”

“No,” I answered truthfully.

“My name is Ronald Ramsey. I own Ramsey Records and I can make you a star. With your talent I can see big things. Huge things. But, look, it won’t be easy. It will be work. Hard work. Are you willing to work for me?”

I looked at Sugar who was nodding yes and motioning me to answer Ronald.

“Yes?” I answered.

“There is nothing wrong with playing these small clubs,” he said. “You can have fun with that for now, but what I’m talking about is making you an international star. I can’t do it for you, Brad. At the end of the day, you have to put your heart into it. There will be times when it’s hard and you’ll be tired. There will be times when you might want to give up, and I need to know that you won’t give up on me if I’m going to invest in you. I need to know I can trust you. You’re not a quitter, are you, Brad?”

“No.”

“What about drugs, do you do drugs?”

“No.”

“Drink?”

“No.”

“Look, I’m not trying to scare you, kid. You have talent. I’m not worried about that because it’s clear you have something special. I just need to know you won’t let me down.”

Ronald leaned forward so I could see him better. He had a shock of blonde hair and a chubby red face. He was smiling, but it was hard to tell if he was happy or angry. He was a large man and I thought about how it must have been hard for him to get in and out of this limousine. Ronald kept his gaze on me nodding his head up and down like he was having a conversation in his own mind about me.

“I won’t quit playing, Mr. Ramsey,” I told him, still taken aback about it all.

“Ronald. Call me Ronald.”

“Ronald, this is all I want to do. I have a ton of material no one even knows about and…”

He cut me off. “Come to the office tomorrow and we’ll talk more.”

I took the business card he was holding out for me and stepped out into the cold winter rain. I gave Sugar a nod as she lit a cigarette and gave me a wink, and I closed the heavy black limousine door.

I walked away from the car barely noticing the awful weather, my leather jacket open and my long dark hair soaked and sticking to my face. I needed to go for a little walk before I went back into the theater. I needed for everything that just happened to sink in.

I walked into the night smiling. I knew this was the beginning of the rest of my life.

Fast forward to today, and I’m sweating nervously on a turbulent flight from Austin to Los Angeles. I’m twenty-seven years old and nothing like the kid with those cheap sneakers and the second hand t-shirts.

Ronald kept his promise. He had made me a star.

Over the past ten years since that fateful day in Ronald’s black limousine, I have been on countless flights, and even though the pills they give me keep the anxiety under control, I just can’t get used to flying. I had never been on a plane until I signed with Ramsey Records, so who would’ve known I have such a fear? It’s probably the only complaint Ramsey Records can make about me.

For example, I’m pretty sure most musicians wouldn’t be putting up with the shit I’m going through right now. I try to be a nice guy and play along with the games they play with the media, and so when they asked me to fly down to Austin to do a duet with Lindsay Wilder, I obliged.

Lindsay is a young starlet on Ramsey Records who is supposed to be my on-again off-again girlfriend. It’s all a ruse. Everything is a fucking ruse these days. One time, on another flight, I sat next to one of Ramsey’s henchmen who had too much to drink. She told me my entire working life is mapped out. If it looked like I cheated on Lindsay, or got in a fight with a security guard, or even got arrested, it was all for show. Everything is planned to keep just the right amount of exposure and intrigue.