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“It's my life
It's now or never
I ain't gonna live forever
I just want to live while I'm alive
My heart is like an open highway
Like Frankie said
I did it my way”
Jon Bon Jovi
“Damn this song – can’t make it sound right!” Adam exclaimed in exasperation. He put down the microphone on the amplifier with a loud sound that echoed in the spacious room of the record studio. “What do you mean?” asked Tommy. He thought the song Adam was singing sounded perfect but he already knew it was pointless to argue with the singer, when he was like this. They spent all morning in the studio rehearsing for the first concerts of Adam’s first tour – a few weeks after Tommy had got the job of a bass player in Adam’s band. Bright and warm LA sunlight felt nice on the young man’s skin. And this was nice too – sitting here alone with Adam, while the rest of the band went to have lunch in the nearby restaurant. Adam didn’t answer him and Tommy raised his head from his bass to look at the singer. He couldn’t help but notice worry in the man’s eyes as Adam stared in front of himself blankly. They say it’s easier to fuck up your dreams, when you almost got it. Totally true. That’s the moment when your sub conscience (fucked up and full of childhood traumas, like everyone’s sub conscience is supposed to be) decides if you can have it or not. If you’re ready or not… Adam always looked like he was ready to take it all – all he ever wanted from life, right now. This moment though, with only the two of them in the room, he looked… scared, for the lack of better word. Tommy stole another look at Adam while pretending to tune his bass. How can you say the right words and not make things worse with too much sympathy? Should he even say anything at all? “Adam,” Tommy started cautiously. “May be I should keep such things to myself, but…” “Yeah?” By the way Adam was looking at him now Tommy knew he got his attention. “Since I’ve been working with you, I… I hear you sing and… I can’t take it sometimes. The way you sing - it’s too real, makes me feel too many things at the same time… Like I’ve been numb for too long, you know? You don’t have to do it right or some stupid perfect way you think it should be done. Do it your way and you’ll make them lose their minds. That I can promise you.” Adam smiled at him warmly and put his hand above Tommy’s resting on the bass. “Thank you. I know this – about doing it my own way, I mean… I just… Kind of forget it sometimes – when it matters most, I guess.” Tommy smiled back and felt something inside him twist in a bittersweet painful sensation. “Can I make a confession too?” Adam asked, a little hesitant. “Sure,” answered Tommy, wondering what it might be about. “Ever since you’ve come to my band, it’s…” Adam paused for a moment, carefully choosing words. “It’s been easier for me to perform.” Tommy raised his brow in silent question. “It’s been easier because…,” continued Adam, “I see you’re standing there and – even when I’m not sure if I can do it, you look at me like I’m some kind of a hero, like I can do everything. I have no choice but to pull it off then – cuz you believe in me.” Tommy froze. Here was this “feeling too much” thing Adam constantly put him through. How was he supposed to react to such words? “Err… thanks?” Tommy laughed nervously. “Sorry, I… don’t know what to say.” “No need to say anything, Tommy Joe. Thank you for ever coming to this band,” with these words Adam stood upon his feet and went out of the room, touching gently Tommy by the shoulder on his way out. “Will be back in a sec.” Tommy was left in a room alone with a strange feeling in his gut – like he was missing something that was right in front of him. The blonde sighed quietly and started to actually tune his bass.
