Jake would never forget the first time he heard the song on the radio.
He had been in Angie's apartment, naked in her bed, both of them drifting toward sleep after a long, satisfying round of lovemaking. The radio alarm clock murmured in the background, just white noise, when Justin Adams, the night DJ for KRON, came back from a commercial break.
"New music here on the Krone Bone," Justin announced. "We just got this tune the other day. The album isn't even in stores yet. It's a band from Heritage, if you can believe that. You ever heard of Heritage? Some little cow town up in Northern Cali that makes Bakersfield look like Beverly Hills, from what I'm told. Where they grow tomatoes and rice and having a good time means shutting down the still for the night and heading over to the grange hall."
Jake's eyes flew open. He sat up, startling Angie.
"Holy shit," he said.
"What?" she asked, glancing around.
"Shhh," he hushed her. "They're talking about us. They're gonna play our song."
"Your song?"
"Shhh."
"Anyway," Justin went on, "I guess they're capable of producing something other than produce and cheap moonshine up there, because I gave this tune a listen and… well… it friggin rocks. Here it is for your listening pleasure. The band is called The Saints—"
"That's you!" Angie squealed. "Oh my God!"
"Shhh!"
"—and the tune is the title cut from their up-and-coming album: Descent Into Nothing."
Then Matt's opening riff came out of the tinny clock radio speaker, followed by the piano, then Jake's own voice.
"It's really you," Angie whispered in awe, hearing the song for the first time.
"It really is," Jake breathed, just as awed even though he'd heard it a thousand times.
They listened all the way through. At the end, Angie looked at him seriously, a tear sliding down her cheek.
"What?" Jake asked. "Why are you crying?"
"Nothing," she said softly. "Just… love me."
And he had, pulling her close under the sheets once more.
By the time they left Los Angeles for Bangor, the album and single had been in stores for twenty-three days. Album sales hovered below twenty thousand, with over ninety per cent of those from the Heritage region, but the Descent Into Nothing single had already cracked Billboard's Hot 100. A remarkable feat, considering techno and punk were dominating the charts at the time. It was even projected to debut on the Top 40 countdown the following week.
"Both the fifteen-to-eighteen and the eighteen-to-twenty-five crowd loves the song," Acardio had told them. "It's going just how we planned. When the song peaks and starts falling, we'll release Who Needs Love? as a single and push that next. When that happens, album sales will really take off. Generally takes two hit songs before people start buying the album in droves. And if we can squeeze three hits out of it, you're looking at platinum."
Platinum, Jake thought bitterly, standing in the cramped bathroom on the bus. So we can each clear fourteen grand. His mind wanted to dwell on the injustice, but it just didn't have the energy today. Between his four-day hangover, the nerves of their first real concert, and the ache of leaving Angie behind, there wasn't room for much else.
He had grown close to her these last few months, as close as he'd been to Michelle during their best days. Saying goodbye had been harder than he expected, especially knowing their tour schedule wouldn't bring him near the West Coast any time soon.
The first leg alone had looked brutal when he first read it:
Jan 1 – Bangor, MaineJan 2 – Concord, New HampshireJan 3 – Boston, MassachusettsJan 5 – Buffalo, New YorkJan 6 – Pittsburgh, PennsylvaniaJan 7 – Cleveland, OhioJan 10 – Cincinnati, OhioJan 11 – Indianapolis, IndianaJan 12 – Chicago, IllinoisJan 13 – Minneapolis, MinnesotaJan 14 – Des Moines, IowaJan 15 – Peoria, IllinoisJan 16 – Kansas City, MissouriJan 17 – St. Louis, MissouriJan 18 – Springfield, MissouriJan 20 – Oklahoma City, OklahomaJan 21 – Amarillo, TexasJan 22 – Albuquerque, New MexicoJan 23 – El Paso, TexasJan 24 – Austin, TexasJan 25 – San Antonio, TexasJan 26 – Houston, TexasJan 27 – Dallas, TexasJan 29 – Little Rock, ArkansasJan 31 – Baton Rouge, LouisianaFeb 1 – New Orleans, LouisianaFeb 2 – Jackson, MississippiFeb 3 – Memphis, TennesseeFeb 4 – Nashville, TennesseeFeb 5 – Louisville, Kentucky
That was just the first leg. There were five in total. Days off were rare, mostly dictated by long travel stretches between cities. It would be at least the first week of February before he had a shot at returning to Los Angeles and seeing her again, during a planned two-week break.
"I'll be back then," he'd promised her the night before he boarded the bus.
"I know you will," she replied, clinging to him, her arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him and refusing to let go.
"And I'll call you every day," he added. "Twice a day when I can."
By then, the tears had already started streaming down her face.
"I know," she whispered. "I know."
And then she had pulled away at last, walking back to her car, openly sobbing. Jake had watched her go, puzzled at the intensity of her emotions. It was only six weeks. She was acting like they were saying goodbye forever.
The Saints' convoy consisted of six tractor-trailers and six tour buses. The roadies filled three buses. The remaining three carried the two bands and the management staff.
The trailers were packed with a complete stage assembly, scaffolding, a full lighting rig with swivels, gimbals, and cooling systems, twenty-seven high-performance amps, over a mile of cable, and, of course, all the instruments for both Earthstone and The Saints.
They crossed into Bangor city limits just before noon on New Year's Day. Most of the vehicles continued toward Bangor Auditorium, the site of the evening's show. The tour buses for Earthstone, The Saints, and the management peeled off, heading for the Bangor International Hotel near the airport.