She’d die, absolutely die, if she had to watch that contemptuous look fall over Quinn’s face again, this time in response to her music.
She sat down. The three of them continued to watch her, so she fidgeted and played with a strand of her hair. For a moment, they all just stared at each other across the table.
She couldn’t stand it anymore. “ Well? ”
Quinn was the first one to respond. He brought his elbows up on the table, laced his fingers together, and rested his chin on his hands. Finally, he smiled.
“Angel,” he said, “welcome to Quinntessence.”
chapter 6
Shan was up early the next morning, awakened by a painful cramp. She clenched until it passed, then struggled out of bed. Her eyes were watering and her nose running, the usual symptoms of a morning jones, but her mood was already high as she replayed the events of the previous night in her mind.
They liked her! Dan had beamed with self-congratulation as Ty gushed superlatives and even Quinn, whom she sensed was not effusive with his praise, made a few positive comments.
“You have a strong voice,” he’d said, “and your playing is solid. I can tell you work at it, but you’re going to have to work a lot harder now. It’s a big jump from folk to hard rock and there’s not much time to prepare. Are you up for it?”
“Yes!” Shan insisted. “Absolutely! I like playing folk, but I really want to rock!”
“Well, now’s your chance,” he assured her.
When he went to the bar, Shan had turned to the others. “Did he really like me?”
“Honey,” Dan chortled, “you blew him away.”
She looked at Ty. “Really? He’s hard to read.”
“ Really ,” Ty said. “He was transfixed. Don’t expect him to shower you with compliments, though. That’s not the Q-man’s style.”
Well, he didn’t have to. He liked her enough to let her in his band and that was enough for her. Besides, she’d have plenty more opportunities to show him what she could do.
Starting today, at their first practice session.
She reached in her dresser for the bag containing the brown rock and a piece of foil. She chopped off a bit, dropped it onto the foil, then sat down cross-legged on her bed. She lit the candle she kept on her nightstand, held the foil over it, and waited for the heroin to boil. When it did, she pulled out her tooter, then hesitated.
She wanted so badly to quit. She’d come close last time, and she didn’t care about the high. Her new band would be a high all on its own.
She thought about the craving that would dig at her with white-hot pincers. The nausea and the diarrhea and the tremors. The insomnia that would keep her awake for days. Then she thought about trying to play while in that condition.
She lifted the tooter to her mouth and inhaled the smoke.
At precisely eleven o’clock there was a knock at the front door. When she opened it, Shan was greeted by an enormous pile of equipment seeming to sprout arms and legs. “Wow! What can I help with?”
“Just stay out of the way, angel.” Quinn squeezed past with his keyboard, a coil of electrical cables over his shoulder and a crate of microphones under his arm. Dan and Tyrone staggered by next with the drum kit and amplifiers.
“You can grab the rest,” Dan tossed back. Shan retrieved the bass and mic stands from the hallway, then followed them into the living room where they were stacking the gear into an empty corner.
She set down the equipment and watched the pile grow. Quinn untangled the cables from his shoulder, dropped them onto the snare drum, and flung himself into a chair. He was dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a Yes T-shirt. “Danny, next time you hire us a guitar player, make sure she lives on the ground floor.”
Dan collapsed onto the floor pillows, his hair fanning out around him. “It’s a prerequisite.”
“There’s a service elevator at the end of the hall,” Shan said.
“Why didn’t you say something?” Ty demanded amid a chorus
She sat down. The three of them continued to watch her, so she fidgeted and played with a strand of her hair. For a moment, they all just stared at each other across the table.
She couldn’t stand it anymore. “ Well? ”
Quinn was the first one to respond. He brought his elbows up on the table, laced his fingers together, and rested his chin on his hands. Finally, he smiled.
“Angel,” he said, “welcome to Quinntessence.”
chapter 6
Shan was up early the next morning, awakened by a painful cramp. She clenched until it passed, then struggled out of bed. Her eyes were watering and her nose running, the usual symptoms of a morning jones, but her mood was already high as she replayed the events of the previous night in her mind.
They liked her! Dan had beamed with self-congratulation as Ty gushed superlatives and even Quinn, whom she sensed was not effusive with his praise, made a few positive comments.
“You have a strong voice,” he’d said, “and your playing is solid. I can tell you work at it, but you’re going to have to work a lot harder now. It’s a big jump from folk to hard rock and there’s not much time to prepare. Are you up for it?”
“Yes!” Shan insisted. “Absolutely! I like playing folk, but I really want to rock!”
“Well, now’s your chance,” he assured her.
When he went to the bar, Shan had turned to the others. “Did he really like me?”
“Honey,” Dan chortled, “you blew him away.”
She looked at Ty. “Really? He’s hard to read.”
“ Really ,” Ty said. “He was transfixed. Don’t expect him to shower you with compliments, though. That’s not the Q-man’s style.”
Well, he didn’t have to. He liked her enough to let her in his band and that was enough for her. Besides, she’d have plenty more opportunities to show him what she could do.
Starting today, at their first practice session.
She reached in her dresser for the bag containing the brown rock and a piece of foil. She chopped off a bit, dropped it onto the foil, then sat down cross-legged on her bed. She lit the candle she kept on her nightstand, held the foil over it, and waited for the heroin to boil. When it did, she pulled out her tooter, then hesitated.
She wanted so badly to quit. She’d come close last time, and she didn’t care about the high. Her new band would be a high all on its own.
She thought about the craving that would dig at her with white-hot pincers. The nausea and the diarrhea and the tremors. The insomnia that would keep her awake for days. Then she thought about trying to play while in that condition.
She lifted the tooter to her mouth and inhaled the smoke.
At precisely eleven o’clock there was a knock at the front door. When she opened it, Shan was greeted by an enormous pile of equipment seeming to sprout arms and legs. “Wow! What can I help with?”
“Just stay out of the way, angel.” Quinn squeezed past with his keyboard, a coil of electrical cables over his shoulder and a crate of microphones under his arm. Dan and Tyrone staggered by next with the drum kit and amplifiers.
“You can grab the rest,” Dan tossed back. Shan retrieved the bass and mic stands from the hallway, then followed them into the living room where they were stacking the gear into an empty corner.
She set down the equipment and watched the pile grow. Quinn untangled the cables from his shoulder, dropped them onto the snare drum, and flung himself into a chair. He was dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a Yes T-shirt. “Danny, next time you hire us a guitar player, make sure she lives on the ground floor.”
Dan collapsed onto the floor pillows, his hair fanning out around him. “It’s a prerequisite.”
“There’s a service elevator at the end of the hall,” Shan said.
“Why didn’t you say something?” Ty demanded amid a chorus
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