Waiting For A Break

As it turned out, Abby decided not to go to University of Washington after all. "My time with Madhouse has made me realize that I've always wanted to be a band manager," Abby told me in April of our senior year. "University of Puget Sound has a music management program, and it's even closer to home than University of Washington, so I think I'm going there."

However, no matter how close Abby's college was, she still couldn't be with us on a daily basis. Abby would have classes and clubs and college friends, and that would take her away from the band. Even if Madhouse was staying together, it seemed as if we would have to say goodbye to our biggest fan.

Throughout the summer, Robin, Kyle, and I continued to play at the Coyote Club, and Abby came every day to help us carry our equipment and support us during the show. Despite our continued success, we knew that our time with Abby was running out. August came far too quickly, and when it did, all three of us went to Abby's house to visit her one last time before she left.

"I'm going to miss you so much," I said as Abby loaded her suitcases into her parents' car.

"Me too," Robin said. "You've done so much for us."

"I'll miss you too," Kyle said. He kissed her quickly and then said, "You'll still visit us, right?"

"Of course I will, and I'll miss you guys too," Abby said. "I have a present for you though."

"You didn't have to give us anything," Kyle said. "You're the one who's going off to college, not us."

"Yes I did!" Abby insisted. "First of all, I figured that you guys might need someone to help you with your equipment, since I won't be going to every show with you anymore."

"Yeah, that would be nice," Robin admitted.

"I found two guys who agreed to be your roadies," Abby said. "Their names are Dan and Bill, and they'll be joining you at your next show at the Coyote Club to help you out."

"That's awesome!" I said. "Thanks Abby!"

"That's not even the best part of your gift," Abby said. "No band is complete without their very own van, so I got you guys one."

"You're kidding," I said. "Did you seriously buy us a van?!"

"Technically, you bought yourselves the van," Abby said. "I used the band money to buy it. Would you like to see it?"

"Yes!" Robin exclaimed.

Abby opened her garage, and in the garage, there was a black van waiting for us. "It's all yours," she said.

"Thank you so much, Abby!" I exclaimed.

"Thanks Abby!" Robin said. "You're the best."

"I still can't believe we have a van," Kyle said. "Thank you so much!"

"Anything for my favorite band," Abby said. "By the way, I'm letting Jeanette manage the fan club, but I'll still manage the band itself."

"We have a fan club?" Kyle said.

"Well, it's mostly just Aunt Jeanette and I, but it's still a fan club!" Abby said. "I'm sure it will get bigger over time. I can just tell you're going to be famous someday."

"Abby! Let's go!" Mrs. Perkins shouted.

"I have to go," Abby said. "See you soon everybody."

"Bye Abby!" I said.

"Bye! I love you!" Kyle said.

"Goodbye Abby!" Robin said.

We all waved as Abby climbed into the car and drove away. Even though Abby would be less than an hour away, it seemed as if she was moving halfway across the world. Not having Abby living in town would be an adjustment, but we would make it. After all, Abby had given us an amazing parting gift.

At the next show, Robin, Kyle, and I met Dan and Bill, both of whom were very nice. They weren't quite a replacement for Abby's enthusiasm and undying support, but they did help us with our equipment, and over the course of the next year, I began to think of both of them as my friends. At that moment, however, all I wanted was for Abby to show up. I knew that she was busy studying whatever it was that was required for a degree in music management, but I desperately hoped that she would take a break from her studies to come see Madhouse play. I could tell that Robin and Kyle missed Abby too. There was an energy that was definitely missing from the music that night.

About once per month, Abby did make an appearance at the Coyote Club. She always had a big grin on her face, and the other fans at the club flocked to see her. Sometimes, it seemed as if Abby was more popular than Madhouse. Every time she visited, she assured us that she was having an amazing college experience, but she missed us all the time, and she was still busy looking for a record label for us.

Months passed, and although Madhouse had regular gigs all over the Seattle area, we still didn't have a record label, and I still wasn't making enough to live on. Around Thanksgiving, my parents told me that if I was still going to live at home, I would have to get a "real job."

"Madhouse is a real job!" I told them.

"If you weren't living here, you wouldn't be able to pay your rent," Mom pointed out.

"Why don't you apply for a job at the movie theater?" Dad said. "I heard that they're hiring."

"I guess I'll try that," I said.

The next day, I started filling out an application for a position as a concessions worker at my local movie theater. While I was working on the application, I overheard Melissa and her friends talking about me.

"My sister is in the other room," I heard Melissa say to one of her many friends. "She's such a freak."

"Don't say that," her friend said. "I'm sure she's not that bad."

"She is that bad," Melissa said. "She was supposed to go off to college, but she was so obsessed with her little rock band that she started that she insisted on staying here."

"What's she doing now?" the friend asked.

"She plays with her band at night and mopes around at home during the day," Melissa said. "Bianca's so lame. I hope I never become like her."

"Is her band any good?" the friend asked.

"No!" Melissa exclaimed. "I can't believe that the Coyote Club of all places would let them play there. The music is just whiny indie rock, and her bandmates are just as weird as she is."

As I listened to Melissa talk about "that wacko punk kid" and "the marching band guy who's dating Abby Perkins," I filled out my application faster. I liked to pretend that I didn't care what Melissa, or anyone else for that matter, thought about me, but it wasn't exactly true. I didn't care if Melissa adored me or not, but I did want my sister to respect me. I was the older sister, after all. I was the one who was supposed to be looking down on Melissa, not the other way around.

Around that time, I decided to try to apply to University of Washington again. I was sick of everyone hassling me about not having a real job, and I wanted to see what college life would be like. Madhouse didn't seem like it was going anywhere, so it was only a matter of time before we broke up. I was only speeding up the process. I submitted my application two days before it was due, and I crossed my fingers that they would accept me again. I didn't tell Kyle or Robin that I was applying, but I did tell Abby, who told me that it was "a horrible decision for the band, but if it's the right choice for you, then I'll support it."

Two weeks after I applied, the movie theater contacted me and said that they were interested in hiring me. I graciously accepted the job offer, and although the pay wasn't great, it was better than what I was making from Madhouse. Meanwhile, Robin's parents also pressured him into getting a job outside of the band, so he got a job at the Hubbard Guitar Shop. Since Kyle was still in community college and doing well, his parents didn't make him get a day job, but we knew that he would most likely leave the band once he transferred.

Scooping popcorn was dull work, but within a few months, our manager left, and I was promoted to Shift Manager. All this meant was that I had to supervise my fellow staff members while scooping more popcorn. Thankfully, Robin visited whenever he had a day off. "Can I have a large popcorn with extra butter please?" he asked me one cold day in December.

"Robin?" I said. "Is that you?"

I looked over the counter, and he was wearing a black leather jacket over a Clash T-shirt, ripped black jeans, and knockoff Doc Martens. For some reason that I couldn't comprehend, he had also brought a cup of coffee and his guitar to the movie theater. "It's me," he said, grinning.

"What are you doing here?" I asked as I scooped his popcorn and added some butter to it.

"I just felt like visiting you," Robin said. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," I said.

"That's not good enough," Robin said. "Bianca, I need you to feel something. We can't change the world if you're just going to make popcorn for other people like some kind of zombie."

"It's kind of fitting," I said. "Most of the people I'm making popcorn for are off to see zombie movies anyways. I'm just getting them in the mood."

"Don't think like that!" Robin said. "Do I need to play a song for you?"

"Is that why you brought your guitar?" I asked.

"No," Robin said. "I just like having it with me, but you look like you need a song. It must get so dull listening to nonstop Christmas music in here."

"You're right," I said. "I wish they'd play something else sometimes."

"I'll fix that then," Robin said. He took out his red Stratocaster, but then realized that he was missing something. "I'm going to need my amp," he said. Robin packed up his guitar and ran off, but a few minutes later, he was back with an amp. He then plugged in the amp and played a guitar solo. Most people walked right by, and a few stopped to stare, but I couldn't stop smiling as I watched Robin.

"That was amazing," I told him when he finished.

"Thanks Bianca," Robin said. "I should probably go though. See you tonight!"

"Bye Robin," I said.

"Was that your boyfriend?" one of my colleagues asked me.

I shook my head and started helping the next person in line, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from Robin and his guitar.

In March, I found out that University of Washington had denied me. I wasn't sure if it was the year off or the lazily written essay about my experiences with Madhouse, but my hopes of going to college were gone. I was stuck with a job I hated and a band that demanded too much of my time for too little money. My parents would eventually makes me move out, and I would die poor and alone, all because I hadn't gone to college when I had the opportunity.

At the next band practice, I had something that I needed to say to Robin and Kyle. I brought my bass with me to Robin's house, even though I already knew that I wouldn't be playing it. I dragged my feet as I walked up to his door and knocked. Jenny, who had just turned four, answered the door. "Hi Bianca!" she exclaimed.

"Hi Jenny," I said. "Where's Robin?"

She pointed to the door to the basement, so I went down there. As usual, Kyle and Robin were already in there. "Hi Bianca," Robin said. "What's up?"

"I can't do this anymore," I said. "I'm done waiting around for a record label to notice us, because that's clearly never going to happen. This was a stupid idea to begin with. I quit Madhouse."

"Bianca, no!" Robin exclaimed. "You can't do that!"

"Yes I can," I said. "As I said, I'm done with all of this. Besides, Kyle's going to be transferring in a year and a half. The band's going to be breaking up then anyways."

"We still have a year and a half," Kyle said. "You can stay for that long, right?"

"Madhouse is just a burden on me," I said. "I can't stay for any longer. My parents are going to make me move out soon, and I'm not making all that much as it is. I thought that we could make it as a band, but that's just a silly little dream."

"We can make our dreams a reality if we try hard enough," Kyle said. "Just give it another year."

"It's easy for you to say that," I said. "You're the only one here who's getting a real education. Robin, you have no right to speak either. You actually like your job. If the band fails, I have nothing to fall back on, so why should I even try?"

"I think you're asking too much of her, Kyle," Robin said. "How about you just stay for this practice? We'll talk again after we're done."

"I guess I can try that," I said. I unpacked my bass, plugged it in, and began to play. All at once, we began to play, and it all reminded me of why I joined the band in the first place. Although the initial thrill of being in a rock band had faded, I still loved playing the bass, and I still loved making music with two of my best friends. Even if it wasn't making me a lot of money, it was something I loved, and at the end of the rehearsal, I ended up agreeing to come to the next one.

The next day, I met with my grandmother. She was the one who had taught me how to play the bass, and whenever I felt lost, I knew that I could come to her for advice. I needed her advice more than ever at that moment, so I drove to her house to visit her.

"Hello Bianca," she said as she gave me a hug. "How are you doing?"

"I need your help, Grandma," I said.

"What happened, sweetheart?" Grandma asked.

"University of Washington rejected me," I said. "Now I'm stuck with the job at the movie theater, and I'm still not sure if I should stay with Madhouse."

"I thought you were excited about your job," Grandma said.

"At first, I thought I would like it, but it's not what I thought it would be," I said. "I like being in Madhouse, but I'm not getting enough money to make it worth it."

"Bianca, I want you to stick with your dreams," Grandma said. "Don't give up on your band just because of money."

"I don't want to, but I may have to if my parents make me move out," I said.

"Your happiness is more important than money," Grandma said. "Just do what makes you happy, and everything will work itself out eventually."

"I hope you're right, Grandma," I said, but I had made up my mind. I would stick with Madhouse, if only for a little while. Robin and Kyle were the only ones who were keeping me going, after all. It made no sense to give up on them.

"Why don't you play for me?" Grandma said. "I haven't heard you play in a while."

I nodded and took out my bass, remembering the day when Grandma had given it to me. "What should I play?" I asked her.

"Whatever you'd like," Grandma asked.

I played a relatively simple tune for Grandma, but she seemed to like it. As I played, I began to gather up a few shreds of hope for my band. Maybe we would be successful after all. I just had to hold on a little longer, and if Grandma was right, everything would work itself out in the end.