“Okay,” Alessandra finally says, drawing my gaze from her lips to her blinking blue eyes. “I hate myself for being obvious, but I think I have to go with ‘People Like Us.’ But only because that was the first 22 Goats song I ever heard, and it hit me like a ton of bricks.” She sighs dreamily. “There’s nothing like a girl’s first love.” Her breathing halts. “In music. First love in music.”
I smile. “I know what you meant.”
She shifts position on her lounger. “I’m not a stalker, Fish. I swear.”
“Yeah, I’ve gathered that. If you are, you’re doing a shitty job of it. You’re far too sane.”
She exhales with relief.
“Out of curiosity, did ‘People Like Us’ ‘hit you like a ton of bricks’ before or after you saw the music video?”
She palms her forehead. “Oh, God, that video! I’m sure half those billion views were mine!”
Okay, I’ve definitely had this particular conversation before. Many times. Also, I’ve seen the look on Alessandra’s face, too, on every girl who’s been talking about that music video. And it’s no wonder. Our debut video went batshit viral, thanks not only to the dope song, but also to Dax’s golden-god, naked perfection. Colin and I appeared in that video, too, of course, in the performance scenes and a B-line subplot meant for comedic effect. But, undoubtedly, the reason that video launched 22 Goats into the stratosphere was Dax Morgan and those glimpses of his naked ass as he rolled around on a white-sand beach with a stunning supermodel.
“Dax actually hates that music video,” I confess.
“No.”
“Yep. He appreciates that it launched us into the stratosphere, as designed. The entire goal of that thing was rocketing our song to number one.”
“Which it did.”
“Thankfully. But, as Dax quickly found out, having an endgame, and then living with the consequences of that endgame actually succeeding, are two different things.”
“What consequences? You mean fame?”
“Yeah, Dax struggles with that aspect of things sometimes. More specifically, he can’t stand the whole ‘heartthrob’ box he’s always put into, especially because he knows it’s a box partly of his own making. Dax is all about the music, so the fact that his face and ass are still such cornerstones of our band’s identity, thanks to that video, is a genuine struggle for him.”
Alessandra looks sympathetic. “Well, at least you’re all in it together. The ‘heartthrob box,’ I mean. Have you found that to be a struggle for you, too?”
I stare into her blinking blue eyes for a long moment, trying to gauge if she’s being sarcastic, and quickly determine she’s asking her question sincerely. This girl actually thinks I’m a heartthrob? “Uhhh . . . The heartthrob thing has been okay for me. Dax and Colin take the brunt of that sort of thing, to be honest. I’m pretty much the funny one. The comic relief.”
Alessandra frowns like she’s not buying that explanation but says nothing. And I can’t help feeling pretty awesome about that.
“Okay, second album?” I say. “What’s your song selection off that one?”
This time, she doesn’t hesitate. “‘Fireflies.’ Just because it was a bit of a departure for you guys, which I really respected. That song, more than any other, felt like you were refusing to be put into a musical box after the success of your first album. Plus, it’s so damned catchy.”
“That’s my favorite off that album, too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I think it’s so romantic. So honest. Dax wrote it for his wife, Violet, right after they met.” Reflexively, I glance across the patio at Dax and Violet, and, not surprisingly, they’re tangled up in the hot tub, like they’re the only two people in the world.
Alessandra asks, “Did Dax personally write every song on The Violet Album for her? I’ve always assumed he did, based on the album’s title. But your band’s writing credits are always listed as ‘22 Goats,’ with no individual contributions noted. So, it’s impossible to know who wrote what.”
“Yeah, Dax wrote virtually everything on both our first and second albums. Colin and I contributed our parts of the instrumentation and maybe a bridge or lyric here or there. For the third and fourth albums, though, we both started contributing a lot more to the writing process. Me, especially. By then, I figured out I’m actually a pretty competent songwriter. I also bumped our old producer out of his chair on the third album and started co-producing everything with Dax.”
“Wow! How cool!” She holds up her arm. “Look! I just got goose bumps!”
I laugh. “We’re just about to start writing our fifth album this coming week. I can’t wait.”
She squeals. “Oh, to be a fly on the wall when 22 Goats writes their amazing songs! I can’t even imagine how cool that must be, to be a part of that, especially now that you’re co-producing. With no middleman ‘translating’ your ideas for you, your songs can now come out into the world exactly as intended.”