Page 19 of More Than Scars

“Here you go.” He mumbled a thank you and dug in, and I took that as my cue to back off. Tony shrugged, grabbed his plate, and joined Bowie at the table. I cleaned up the kitchen and then retreated to my room to get ready for a busy day of auditions. Hopefully, that would keep my mind from straying to the elusive man I wished to know better.

Yeah, right. When has that ever worked for me…

By the time I was ready and reemerged, the boys were sitting on the couch waiting. “Alright, let’s roll.” Bowie hopped in the backseat, leaving Tony to ride up front with me.

“I hope the tryouts aren’t packed with a bunch of lame-ass contestants again,” Tony said. “I mean, I get it, wanting to fanboy over Social, but fuck, making a fool out of yourself on stage isn’t the way to do it.”

I had to laugh. Tony had such a way with words. “Agreed. I hadn’t considered that even happening until Wolf pointed it out. If it starts out like that again, hopefully Mickey or Stoli will call them out and clear out the wannabes.”

“Fucking lame,” Bowie called out. “Who does that shit? It’s like, dude, buy a concert ticket and pay for the meet and greet, but don’t waste our fucking time.”

“I hear you, and while I agree with you, I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that our approach is everything. I think if it gets out of hand, we let Mickey and Stoli handle it.” And so the day begins with a shitty attitude that I was likely the cause of. “I’d like the two of you to sit back and evaluate. Your input as to who moves on to the next round is just as important as Mickey’s.”

“We can do that,” Tony agreed, though the back seat remained silent and faced the side window away from me. While I now understood the hair issue from Bowie’s perspective, it only served to make forming any sort of bond with him twice as hard.

Let it go, Pressley. If it’s meant to be, he’ll come to you.

Yeah, right.

We scanned our IDs to get into the building and then headed upstairs to the audition room.

“Morning,” Wolf greeted us. “Did you come through the front?”

“No, the back. Why?”

“Didn’t see the line outside, I take it then?”

Bowie and Tony jogged over to the window. “Oh, shit,” Tony said. “That’s way more than forty-seven.”

“Indeed, it is.” I peered around them. “How do we know who’s who?”

“After last week’s fiasco, the ones we accepted were sent an email with a QR code for security to scan before they are escorted up. Front doors are locked until nine, when security starts letting them in. Which is,” Wolf glanced at his watch. “Now. Time to roll, gentlemen. We’ll take them in groups of ten.”

Joey, Stoli, and Mickey walked in. “Looks like we’re in for a hell of a day,” Stoli said.

“Who’s Bowie, and who’s Tony?” Mickey asked, urging them to introduce themselves. “Nice to meet you both.”

As the first group funneled in, we each grabbed a bottle of water and took a seat opposite them, where Wolf had set up chairs for us.

One after another, wide-eyed hopefuls got up on stage, and for the most part, they weren’t too bad, at least by my untrained ears. Maybe audition videos should’ve been sent in first. Would’ve been an easier way to weed out and dwindle down these long-ass days. I’ll bring that up with Easton and Diamond during our next one-on-one meeting.

“There has got to be a better way,” Mickey muttered beside me. “I get this is our first time playing build-a-band, but we’d have had better luck finding a new bassist at Build-A-Bear.”

“Ha-ha-ha,” the rest of us laughed, but Mickey just shook his head. “May I make a suggestion for next time?”

“Next time your ass is handling this,” Wolf growled. “How I became the chosen one is beyond me.”

“That’s easy,” Stoli cut in. “You’re an intimidating fucker, and they hoped you’d scare the losers off.”

“A double bird flip for the win!” Joey teased when Wolf fired off paired birds. “Seriously though, how many grabby-handed fans have you scared off over the years?”

Wolf’s low growl, a signature response I’d learned, came before his words. “Too goddamn many.”

“Lunch is on its way up, let’s take a break and recap before we bring the next group in.” The receptionist’s message that the food was here was a welcome interruption. The security guard helped unload the cart before he left. Plates filled, we gathered around the table. “Any round two choices yet?”

“Not really,” Mickey was the first to reply. “I mean, there are a couple that would benefit from lessons, but the others are seriously lacking talent, and without that, it’s time for a new career choice.”

“We don’t have the time nor the patience to wait for a player to get lessons. If we can’t see the talent and ability to quickly hone it, we’ve got to pass.” Who knew Stoli had it in him to complete a sentence without using the word fuck? I nearly laughed aloud and only just caught myself in time to fake a cough.