After having dropped by DT’s for a check, Travis wanders in to 283 to avoid going home for a little while longer. 283 looks different with the daylight just barely managing to get past the first table before getting exhausted by the dark decor. It sits down and buys a drink. The rest of the place is pretty much empty except for Harris, the bartender, and a disheveled Rock Star. Travis does a double-take and is suddenly unsure if he should sit down at the bar or not. He acts casual—too casual, damn it. But finally he sits down two stools down from the famous and waits for the bartender. The Rock Star hasn’t even looked up.

“What do you know, Travis?”

“Not a lot.” Did he say that for the Rock Star? Would he normally say that?

“I don’t know why I bothered to ask.”

“Yee-aah.”

“Watchya’ havin’?”

Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him. “Uh, boy… I dunno.”

Then a gravelly voice without the tint of radio or tape—which is shocking to Travis—says, “Gin and tonic.”

Travis looks, and sees that the man himself is holding up his glass with a smile. He gives away his hidden joy and beams. “What the man said,” he says to Harris.

The Rock Star says, “S’okay. If Harris here, says you’re okay, then you’re okay.”

Harris, mixing the drink, shakes his head, “He’s not okay.”

“Oh,” says the Rock Star. He drags on his cigarette. “Well… you play decent.”

Travis squints one eye, “I think you might have me confused…”

“Nah. I get around. S’my town, too, you know?”

Travis can’t deny it, and Harris gives him his drink. Beyond paying for it, Travis can’t do much but sit on his tongue.

“You got an album?”

“Uh…”

“Sorry, man—not to pressure you.”

“No, it’s fine. Honestly, most of the guys I know have at least one. I don’t know.”

The Rock Star smiles and scoffs. “Yeah, I know you.”

Travis looks perplexed.

“I mean, I know the guy you are—had a friend like that. Wouldn’t go in the studio. Hated it.”

“For real?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I don’t what my problem is. It’s not the place… you know… the room. It’s not a phobia or anything.”

Leaning over to look over his sunglasses, the Rock Star makes a gesture—maybe catching something in a jar. “It’s trapping the sound.”

Resigned, Travis says, “Yeah.”

“S’cool, man. Not everyone wants to be famous or whatever.”

Was that the only way to get there? Travis hasn’t made the connection before. “It’s not really that. I just… uh… I hate the sound of a recording. It’s so… stuck. You can’t mess with it. It’s permanent.” The Rock Star laughs again—at what—the naiveté? Suddenly, Travis wonders if this guy could actually be an asshole.

“I love that, man. I really do. That’s soul. You got soul.”

Travis smiles.

“Le’me ask you this—do you even wanna’ go pro?”

“I guess.”

“Yeah, well, no offense, but if your answer is ‘I guess’ then you never will. Good or bad, you gotta’ want it. And it’s okay not to want it. Your talent is not defined by your success—most definitely not. Success, man, success has a price—don’t doubt it. But success also will give you the opportunity to do more with it. It does free you up. Shit. I don’t want to sound like a prick, but you know when was the last time I thought about paying a bill?”

Travis makes a must-be-nice face.

“Yeah. That was a dick thing to say. But all I really mean is that if you work hard, not play well—that’s kinda’ optional for a lot o’ people on the airwaves these days—but if you work hard, you get to a place where you don’t have to sweat the small stuff, and that’s not bad.”

“I think you’re right. I might be a little afraid of some hard work.”

“No, no, I didn’t mean to imply that. I know your plan, man, because you love it right now. You’re gonna’ get better, a lot better, ’cause you do it with love.” The Rock Star laughs as he thinks back, “We did… we did.” He hangs out in the past a bit and then, “But you have to get better and you have to do it more, and it gets harder to love it. You might not think so, but sold out tours, city after unrecognizable city… the work isn’t playing it after a while. The work is lovin’ it. I can see anyone being a little apprehensive about that.”

“That—working to love it—is seriously frightening.”

“Yeah, but, I tell ya’—so far—it’s always come back around again—even when I thought I lost it. There’s really nothing to be afraid of.”

Read the whole thread: Carousel Cowboy

Characters and Places: fame, Love, music, The Rock Star, Travis Fleeting