Too Fast For Love

Chapter 4- Take Me To The Top

Tommy actually slept soundly last night. Probably because, for once, everything in his life just seems perfect and at peace. He gets out of bed mid-morning to get started on washing his dad’s car. The sooner he starts, the sooner he’s done. 

He finishes an hour later, and his mother asks him if he could run to the market for her to get a few things. Of course he’s gonna do that. He’s eager to get over to Nikki’s apartment, but he remembers Nikki said that he sleeps in, so no big deal to throw in an extra favor for his mom. 

Once he’s finished, he calls Nikki. They exchanged phone numbers the night before. There’s no answer. Tommy tries again, wondering if he misdialed. Nikki picks up on the second attempt, answering with a groggy voice.

“Oh shit. I think that I just woke you up,” Tommy says.

“Is this Tommy?”

“Yeah. Uh, I was wondering if it was OK to come over. If not, you can call me when it’s a better time.”

“What time is it?” Nikki asked, still sleepy and hungover.

“A bit before 12. I just, um, well, I’ve been up so long, that it just seems later. I would have waited. Sorry, I guess.”

“It’s OK, man. I need to get my ass up. Just come over OK?” Nikki replies.

“Ok. Um, great. Uh, is 25 minutes good? Or is that too soon?”

“It’s fine, man. We’ll have a lot of time to jam.”

“Hey, did you call that guitarist yet?”

“Negative. I need some coffee or something. Then I’ll call.”

“I’ll bring you some. How do you like it?”

“Light.” That’s usually because he adds whiskey to it.

“Got it. See you soon,” Tommy says, hanging up. He feels like a stammering moron. He thinks that he sounded waaay too eager. Fuck. Take it down a notch, bro. The last thing he needs is to scare this guy off with his exuberance. 

What he doesn’t know is that’s one of the things that Nikki really likes about this kid. Someone has to keep the energy level up in a band. Nikki rubs his face to bring feeling to it, then stretches. He considers laying back down for a few minutes, but decides not to risk it; he’s tired enough to know that he’ll probably go out again; snoring away as Tommy is outside pounding on the door. 

Nikki puts his feet on the floor and finally resolves to rise and shine, or at least rise and exist. Nikki isn’t normally so lazy. He thinks it might be because his stress about London faltering has eased up. He’s feeling confident about his new course, and London will soon be a distant memory. He thinks his body is telling him that it’s OK to slow down for a few days, at least until things start to move with the new band; then he won’t rest.

Nikki really wants his morning coffee. Tommy should be there soon. He’ll call the guitarist in the meantime so he at least has something to show.

“Hello,” the guitarist says, answering the phone.

“Is this Mick?” Nikki asks.

“Yep. Can I help you?”

“The name is Nikki. I saw your ad in the Recycler. I’m looking for a guitarist for my new band. If you’re still available, I’d like to get you here for an audition.”

“What kind of music?”

“Rock with metal, punk, and pop undertones. We’ll be doing originals.”