Me: Boring? You’re wishing boredom on me?
Trisha: LOL
Trisha: A flight is where you want zero excitement. Everything totally normal, to the point of absolute boredom.
Me: Gotcha. Have a boring streetcar ride.
Trisha: ;)
***
The next morning, I somehow rolled into the TV studio running on three hours of awkward airplane sleep, and a massive coffee.
Even though this was one of the top-rated morning talk shows, Scout asked me pretty much the same questions as everyone else. Sometimes it depressed me that people who looked like they were at the top of their career were absolutely no more talented than the rest.
I fought to keep my energy up, trying to look as enthusiastic as possible about my big win. I was nearly bursting from wanting to tell the world that I’d actually won an even bigger prize.
The second I finished the rather bland but apparently well-viewed interview, Dave directed me into a room backstage where I spent a full hour taking photos and hugging excited fans who had won a contest to see me.
It was touching how much they loved my songs, but my eardrums wished they’d lower their voices a bit. The high pitched squeals were draining what energy I had left.
“Did you find her?” a petite girl with amazing natural red hair asked, her eyes wide.
I took a photo with her friend while I considered my answer. “Here’s the thing. If I do find her someday, I won’t be able to tell everyone and post pictures of us together. She’s really shy. And for all I know, she might be happily married.”
“No way,” she said, her eyes blazing. “You’re going to find her, and you’re going to write more songs about her. I just know it.”
She was so ridiculously cute that I reached out for a high-five. “I hope you’re right.”
Finally, I was led out the back door and into a car, with Dave taking care of my suitcase and coat. I was in a daze as I shuffled into my hotel room, but pulled out my phone.
Me: Interview went well, I think. About to faceplant into a bed. The only thing that could possibly keep me awake would be you here. Naked.
Yanking off everything but my shorts, I crawled into bed, then my phone beeped.
Trisha: Even if we were naked together, I’d force you to sleep right now. Sweet dreams, rockstar boy.
Me: xox
***
When I woke up, it looked like sunset out the window, but I had no way to be sure. Without even checking the time, I grabbed my phone and called Trisha.
"How did it go?" she asked. I was so relieved that she didn't sound irritated. I couldn’t imagine a woman being thrilled at a man having to take off at the ring of a phone.
"It was pretty good, I think. The production assistants were a lot friendlier than the host, which seems to always happen," I laughed.
"But you've got to promote your new band, and the new Love Rockers album?"
"Yes, although it's still not a hundred percent clear whether I'm doing the album. Dave has a lawyer going over the deal."
“Why wouldn't you want to do it? Wouldn't it have some automatic sales just because of the show? Brand recognition is huge."
I grinned to myself. "I love that you know about this stuff. The thing is, they have some say in the content of the album. It has to be all love songs to stick with the theme. I just don't know whether that would be boring for ten songs in a row. You know?"
"Maybe. But did they specify what kind of love songs?"
"What do you mean?"