Sometimes being a musician is not enough
and one must rise up to the challenge to play to a different tune.

And The Bass Player Gets The Girl Part 2 - Acceptance? By TGJaime Copyright© 2007 TGJaime All Rights Reserved. This is a reworked version of the story I posted earlier. So much better that I decided to remove the original. Angela Rasch helped me immensely in editing, I owe her tons of thanks! Thank you Angela! ~TGJaime

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Part 2 - Acceptance?
 
Acceptance?

Such simple life-changing words. I honestly didn’t know what to do at that point, I started to get up but Bobbie held me down and asked me to sit with her for a second.

Bobbie looked at me. “We’re going to be great together. We both play bass and drums; we both understand rhythms and times -- when it’s time to be outrageous and loud, and when it is time to be laid back.”

I smiled at her. It did indeed seem like we had a great deal of similarities.

She leaned forward, seemingly excited. “I really loved what you were doing in ‘Whisper,’ which, by the way, was the song you played around with during the audition. I’d never thought about using harmonics to do a fill. Where did you learn to do that? Can you show me? What else do you play?”

“Whoa, one question atta’ time.” I laughed. It seemed like Bobbie came alive when she talked about music. I could hardly answer one, before there were three more in the queue. In less than a few minutes she had gotten me to relax.

We decided I should get up and really meet the band; I still hadn’t seen a contract, but I felt better about signing with each passing moment.

When I went to the living room Lauren came over and gave me a hug. “Are you alright?”

I nodded my head. “Yeah, I’m alright, and I think I’m in.”

Bobbie squealed a note so high that I thought the windows were going to crack, and then she gave me a painful, rib-cracking hug, which was followed by hugs or handshakes from almost everyone.
 
 
After everyone else, Hannah came over; she had been acting kind of strange around me, casting her eyes toward the ground. I couldn’t understand why, but everyone else backed up giving her space. Hannah finally got so close she almost stepped on my toes. I didn’t know what to do so I stood there feeling dumbfounded and looked at her. My eyes went around the room hoping to find a clue, but they said nothing.

Hannah finally looked up to me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Welcome Jamie, how are you?”

I stared at the red-haired, green-eyed goddess until finally the bolt of lightning she was waiting for appeared. I tried to say something -- but something, my tongue I think, kept getting in the way. “Ha. . .Har. . .Harry, is that you?”

Hannah fixed me dead in the eyes, bit her lip, and laughed lightly. “Nope, I’m his twin sister”

I have known Harry for almost twelve years. Harry didn’t have any sisters and I’m his brother. We went to school together, camped together, learned how to play music together, we even went on our first dates together when we were thirteen -- chaperoned of course.

Harry and I had considered KISS the ultimate rock band; I would pretend to be Gene and he would be Paul. Hell -- Harry and I even shared first kisses together with the same girl playing spin the bottle at a birthday party. Later our parents split the doctor’s bill for the case of Mono we both got from her.

Then poof -- he vanished off the face of the earth. It had been two years since Harry’s family disappeared overnight -- actually twenty-five months, two weeks, four days and almost sixteen hours. Even the post office didn’t know where they had gone. I know -- I tried there also.

Everyone else in the room seemed to think the reunion of two old and close personal friends had to be the greatest thing that ever happened. Harry knew me better than that.

Every time I looked at Harry/Hannah my blood pressure went up a notch. I saw Harry of two years ago-- no longer did I see the beautiful girl in front of me -- and he started backing up. Every step he took backward followed by one from me, forward. When Harry reached the wall he knew what was to come.

My temper rarely gets the best of me. I’m a slow boiler, but when I did go off it usually spelled a Vesuvius-like catastrophe for someone. It had taken grown men to pull me away from a fight.

I started screaming at Harry and clenched my fist ready to wail on him. Luckily, Harry knew something. I would never ever hurt anyone’s gear. Harry picked up his guitar and held it to his chest cradling it like a baby. All I would do was scream some more about how he betrayed me and how he no longer could be called my friend.

He dissolved into tears, as did I. They took me outside; and I lost track of where he went, I didn’t care. All the hurt and pain came back like a tidal wave. My blood brother -- my best friend beyond all others -- had left me.

Alone and deserted.
 
 
After I stopped screaming they allowed me to come back into the house. They told me, in no uncertain terms to “sit down and shut up.” I started to argue, but quit when I saw the fire in Lauren’s eyes.

She handed me a drink. Uhhhmmm, Cuba Libre,

I wonder how she knew, I snickered to myself.

Lauren had just started to talk when a door opened up and Harry walked in. “Lauren, I should be the one to tell him, I owe him that” He turned toward me. “Do you promise not to say anything, not one question, ‘til I am done?”

Then he did something that went back to our youth; he held out his fist with the pinkie extended. Harry didn’t force it; he just held it there waiting for its match. I could see pain in his eyes. Good he deserves it for abandoning me. I slammed my right fist into his left and linked pinkies, squeezing as hard as we could. Words had never been needed.
 
 
I followed him outside to the dock where we could be alone. Harry walked in front of me. I took several cool, calming, deep breaths and forced myself to focus. We found two chairs that faced the water. After a moment to seemingly collect his thoughts, he started talking.

“Do you remember my Dad always being gone?”

I nodded and waited for him to go on.

“Mom always said he was on long business trips.” He stopped and rested his chin on his knuckle.
“Well. . .I finally found out where he was all those times. He was an undercover buyer for the DEA.”

I tried to be cool, but what Harry told me blew me away.

He nodded, apparently sensing my shock. “He helped set up deals to get the big cartel families in a country the U.S. had an extradition agreement with. Evidently he was very successful until someone ratted him out. They pulled him from South America right before a buy was supposed to take place, and then flew him to Washington to testify before a Senate Committee on Drugs and Counter Drug Programs. Part of his testimony leaked, as did his identity. They put us all into the Federal Witness protection program. I’ve been living on the west coast for the last two years, Jamie. We weren’t allowed to contact family or friends.”

He stopped and caught my eyes in his. “Don’t you think I know how you feel?”

I shook my head, unable to gather my thoughts.

He spoke again, quietly and wavering as the words came hard to him.

“With the exception of one event, I’ve been utterly alone these last years. The only thing that kept me alive was our promise to always be there for each other.”

I shuddered, remembering how that promise had stuck in my craw as the weeks turned into months, and then into years, with no word.

He closed his eyes and gathered himself before continuing. “Don’t you see I didn’t have a choice? I know it sounds far-fetched and you probably don’t believe me. Sometimes I don’t believe it myself. I barely know anything beyond what I told you. Dad died of a heart attack last year so I can never ask him. Mom didn’t take it very well.”

I gasped. “I’m so sorry, Harry. I only met him a few times, but he seemed like a great guy.”

“Uh huh,” he agreed. “I wish I could have known him better, but he was all about service to his country.”
 
 
Silence engulfed us except for waves lapping the dock. I wanted to forgive Harry, but the chasm between us seemed endless. It all seemed much too easy after all this time — like something out of a B movie that went right to DVD.

Harry finally broke the moment with a quiet whisper. “Okay, Jamie, what questions do you have?”

Silence returned and walled us in. The bile from my desire to call Harry a liar tasted like acid.

I hate how I feel. I want to believe him in the worst way. It’s so damned incredible. I can believe it actually happened that way. . .almost. I want to believe and that’s what makes the difference, wanting to believe.

I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t. I stepped over in front of Harry’s chair and stared at him. When he wouldn’t match eyes, I lifted his chin, and watched his soundless tears flow.

He probably didn’t want me to see him crying, again. I held out my hands and helped stand. I couldn’t let go, wouldn’t let go again. Regardless, for whatever reason, my brother had returned. There was only one thing left to do. I just had to ask.

“How in the hell did you end up a red head?”

Hannah laughed; tears flowed freely from our eyes. Without thinking I did the most natural thing, something I never would to Harry. I kissed her, chaste, but right on the lips.

“Welcome back,” I said. “I’ve missed you.”

Arms linked, we walked back inside talking like we had never separated. We never would be again, that’s for sure.

Lauren had been waiting by the door. Her shy smile asked us where things stood.

Tension and a whole lot of un-answered, un-asked questions buzzed through the air around us. Hannah walked over to the couch and sat down; the room had gotten very quiet waiting.

“Could we have something to drink, Lauren?” I asked.

Instead of a drink, I received a strange look and a question. “I asked you before, are you in or out?”

I broke out in a smile, the biggest I’d had in two years. “Girls,” I started out saying, but than changed my mind and decided to address each one. “Bobbie, Dawn, Frankie, Hannah, and Lauren -- I said before that I’m in, but I need a few questions answered, before I can make that final.”

I took a deep breath. “I look around at you girls, and rationally I know you are guys -- or at least I know Harry is, for sure -- but I’m not seeing anything fake about it. You all look like girls with real ti… uuummm breasts and everything. Are you trying to pull something over on me?”

Several of them giggled and most of them smiled broadly.

“No — really. I’ve known Harry. . .Hannah. . .longer than anyone in this world with the exception of my family.” I turned toward her. “Are those real tits you’ve got there?!” I could feel my blush. “Hannah, what’s up with that?”

“Can we hear all your questions before we start answering?” Lauren asked.

I nodded my agreement. “Secondly, I can’t imagine what’s going on is widely known outside of those involved -- otherwise the band would be just another freak show.”

No one made a move to answer so I pushed on.

“. . .and lastly. What do. . .what are you doing about your families and friends? How are you telling them -- or what are you telling them?”

“Do you have any questions about the musical part?” Lauren asked.

I shook my head. “Although I need some answers to what I’ve asked, before I can honestly give my heart to this - - - musically speaking that’s the easiest part, when Bobbie told me that ‘Whisper’ was an original song of yours, I was hooked right there.”

I kept looking over at Hannah while I talked, but I didn’t get any reaction I could read.

“I need some answers. . .please,” I pleaded.

I looked directly into their eyes, wanting them to feel the sincerity I had tried to put into my questions. I wanted everything to work out -- somehow. I truly, in my heart of hearts, wanted to be a real musician -- a professional. To top it off, I would give anything to be with my friend again, and anything to feel whole.
 
 
I sat down, purposely apart from the others, Hannah included. I needed separation, as “confused” didn’t even come close to describing how I felt.

Lauren, seemingly in the role of manager, took center stage and started off. “Jamie, we’ve thrown a lot at you today. The audition today wasn’t so we could judge your musical ability. Hannah already vouched for you as a person and as a player. I’m happy to say she was correct on both counts.”

Hannah gave me two thumbs up.

Lauren started again. “I had to see for myself if you were the type of person we. . .” She waved her hand at the others to define “we.” “. . .could deal with. You showed great compassion with Bobby in two ways, even though you just met him. First when you tried to shield him from that asshole Andy, and then when you shared your chair with him.”

Lauren took a deep breath, and then continued -- looking at Bobbie, but talking to me. “Your simple kindness won my heart; you see Bobbie is my son and daughter.”

I could see the resemblance in their quiet beauty.

Lauren looked around the room. “All these girls have issues. Hannah, your friend, has more demons than anyone I know — eighteen-years old and she has lost her family, friends and -- worst for her -- her father.”

I looked toward my long-time friend, feeling guilty for all the bad things I’d thought about her.

Lauren stood and touched Hannah on the shoulder. “She wanted one thing out of this band. You!”

I bit my lip to stop my pain.

“Dawn and Frankie have their own issues,” Lauren said after a moment. “They want to be professional musicians, like you, but they specifically want to be ‘female’ musicians.
No, they aren’t genuine girls -- yet, but someday, if this works out, they will be.”

Bobbie, Dawn, and Frankie all fidgeted with what appeared to be excitement. Lauren gave them a smile and kept on going. “I asked before we even left the studio how committed you were to being a professional. You said you always wanted to be a professional musician. I’m offering you that. You asked about them having as you said ‘real tits.’ ”

I blushed, wishing I had chosen other words.

“Yes,” Lauren continued. “they’re real.”

At that I could feel the intensity of my blush rise through my face as the girls giggled.

“They have chosen to grow their own. They’re all taking female hormones. Hannah is taking smaller amounts because she isn’t sure yet if she wants to be fully female. If she decides she isn’t big enough by the time we are ready to play, she can either choose to have implants or to wear supplements.”
 
 
I waited for one of the other girls to say something, but whenever they tried Lauren would put up her hand in a silencing motion.

“Is there really a record deal?” I asked quietly. “And who is Venus Records? I have never heard of them.”

She pulled a business card out of her purse and handed it to me.

As I read it, I started a nervous laugh.

Dr. Lauren Michaels, President
Venus Records and Entertainment
800-645-5433
10 S Main Street New York, New York 10044
 
“I’ve been around the entertainment business for almost my whole life,” Lauren said. “I’ve done everything from taping down cables to sound engineer -- even performing in off-Broadway productions. My family has been in the business even longer; Bobbie’s grandfather started Venus Entertainment back in vaudeville times. When he and my husband died, I was the sole heiress and took control.”

Lauren remained in the room with us, but you could see in her eyes she had traveled a million miles away.

“Before that I was a Psychologist working for Nassau County Medical Center. My specialty was juveniles with Behavioral Issues, really my specialty because of Bobbie having Sexual Identity Disorders.

When everything fell to me I found a way to help not only Bobbie but also others like her. That’s why this project is so very important to me. I’m trying to do something unique here and yes, part of it is a lie---I know that. But I don’t care; Bobbie is the single most important person in the world to me.”

Her eyes drilled deep into my soul. “Bottom line, no prevarication, are you willing to be part of this? You told me some of your history. I won’t go into that here. that is for you to tell when it is right for you, but I know I can help you just like I am helping these girls.”

Wow. When she throws the ball back into your court you know it! “What do I tell my family Lauren? I mean. . .I know it doesn’t happen overnight. . .growing I mean. . .and being a girl, but what do I say when they ask me about this band? I want to do it; I want to say ‘yes’ right now, but I don’t know. I guess I’m just scared, this is a huge opportunity.”

I felt like a fool, not being more resolved. “Do you need an answer right now, or will tomorrow be ok?”

She wanted something from me, I just didn’t know what or how to give it.

I needed time, but as the YES song says, Tempus Fugit.
 
To Be Continued...