Now
She sat on the toilet seat, toying with the phone in her hand. Her eyes glistening with tears she had yet to cry. Several thoughts competed for prominence in her head. The need to make the call and confirm everything. The reason why she needed to confirm what she had been told much earlier. And, a small part, looked for reasons to put off the call for now and an even smaller part that looked to not dial the number ever.
With a sigh, she decided its best to rip off the band-aid. To get the call over with and let the chips fall where they may. She tapped on the contact and a face much like her own appeared above the number. Like her own but older and wiser for the experiences she had had.
She raised the phone to ear as her heart beat grew faster.
"Lauren?" came a familiar voice. A voice full of concern.
"Mum," Lauren replied. "I need to know, for you to confirm. Who he is."
"I told you," her mother replied. "Is that's what's going on? Where are you?"
"You know where I am," Lauren replied tersely. "I just want confirmation of what you told me."
"Very well. Your father was a member of Dead Liberty."
"Which one? Matt Butler, Zach James, Pat Walsman or Chuck Lucas?"
"I told you, Pat."
Two Months Ago
"He's a real prick," an uninvited voice whispered into her ear. Just barely loud enough to be heard over the crowd screaming to get the attention of Pat Walsman and the rest of the his band, the Terminal Toads. It had been a bad idea to come here but it seemed like the best chance to get to talk with Patrick Walsman. The man who, according to my mother, happened to be my father.
Lauren turned to give the man a piece of her mind, only to freeze when she saw him. The man Matt Butler, the former lead singer Dead Liberty. He looked so much younger than Patrick, his eyes still had sparkled with life too she noticed. "Mr Butler?"
He put his finger to his mouth, shushing me then cocking his head for me to follow before turning and walking through the crowd away from the hotel. The hotel where my dad now resided. A quick look back, she figured my best chance of getting in would be with the man asking me to follow him.
They sat in a small Starbucks, on the corner of the block, and sized each other up. After he'd directed to her to a table, got her drink order and fetched them.
Matt opened the with the gambit, "you don't seem like his usual fan?"
"I'm not. Well, I've grown to like your stuff recently. I just needed to meet him. To talk with him."
"Oh?"
"Just needed to talk to him," she told him. "But, if I don't get to talk to him it won't be the end of the world."
"Would you like me to get you in?"
"Would you?"
"I'll try, after all without me they wouldn't have much material."
"You make their clothes?"
He laughed, "no, I still write songs. Most of their songs, material, is written by me."
"Oh. So why don't you sing your own songs?"
He answered her with a question that didn't make sense to her, "why did Dead Liberty break up?"
"All but Chuck ended up in rehab and you didn't like each much once you sobered up," Lauren parroted back what she had read.
He laughed, "almost right. Patrica and Zit were in rehab. I on the other hand needed surgery on my vocal cords. Couldn't sing once I'd healed."
"Oh. I'm so sorry. Why didn't they just carry on? I mean Queen and Inxs did with the same name."
"Dead Liberty was my band according to Patricia. He needed his own."
"But that means making a name for yourself all over again, right?"
"Kind of. Their first single they did was a re-recording of a song we had intended to release. Pat recorded a replacement vocal and released it using the Terminal Toads name."
"Shafting you?"
"Nah, I gave my blessing. My version of it is on the Dead Liberty greatest hits album that's coming for Christmas. Besides, I like my new life. I don't live in hotel rooms anymore and I don't have to suffer being around people I hate."
"You hated them?" she asked, surprised to hear that.
"At the end. We'd been friends in high school, went to college together and dropped out together when we got our deal. The life, growing up and the like caused us to drift. Before we knew it, we didn't like each other very much. The booze and drugs helped us cope, kept the machine running and the money coming in."
"So, if you don't like one another can you really get me in to talk with him?" Lauren asked, suddenly afraid that she should have stayed in the crowd. Maybe one of the band would have picked her up as a groupie or something. It suddenly felt like that would have been a better bet.
He smiled, took a sip of his coffee before answering. Lauren felt like he did it to tease and frustrate. "We're friends again. Time apart made all the difference. Well, except for Zach."
"Zach?"
"Found god. Runs a cult now," he told her then broke up laughing. When he stopped, he answered her puzzled look, "he's an ordained priest now. Or was. Haven't heard from him in forever."
She pondered that then asked, "And Chuck?"
Sadness washed over Matt's face. To gather his thought's he took another sip of his coffee. "Chuck died a year back. Heart attack. I go see his widow and two kids whenever I can. His wife was his high school sweetheart."
"So they were together forever. It must have been hard for losing him after all that time," Lauren offered.
