Retrospective: Paris - After the mess was over

5.7 Francesco De la Cruz – Chance 

Spring 1994, a garage somewhere in Paris

It was love at first sight for Francesco. This guitar sat perfectly in his hands. And she made a notably beautiful sound.
"You play her like an acoustic," Alejandro pointed out.
Okay, it had been a while since Francesco had played an electric, but he never thought there was such a big difference anyway.
No one had bothered to teach him how to play guitar, not even the professionals in Suzette's studio.
So when Alejandro showed him some new techniques, Francesco was eager to learn.

When Alejandro had approached Francesco in the Môle and asked him to join his band on their tour, Francesco thought it was a dumb joke. That guy was clearly not very sober. But the man insisted, he seemed to be serious.
Then Francesco was unsure what to say. He was pretty sure it wasn't a trap again, these guys were too American. And he actually had seen their band name on the festival posters.
Deep Rift.
Didn't even sound too terrible.

Francesco was torn.
He didn't want to leave Mae.
But also, this could be that one big chance he'd never get again.
Actually, there wasn't much he should be torn about. At least he could go and give it a try, see how it was to make music with them.
In worst case, it would just be a waste of time and he would continue his life here with Mae, and pursue a music career later.
But in the best case, he might end up exactly where he always wanted – on the biggest stages of the world. Even if it wouldn't work out with this particular band in the long term, he had a better chance to make new connections than on his own.
And so Francesco agreed.

Of course Monsieur Fillipe was more than pissed at Francesco for leaving at the start of his performance. The bar owner hissed something about nurturing a snake on his bosom, but Francesco wouldn't have it. All his boss had done so far was abuse his employees. He paid them only a minimum wage and never the countless overtime hours he forced them to do.
Francesco was tired of arguing on paydays too.
It felt so good to tell that asshole to fuck off, finally, he wondered why he hadn't done it earlier.

So far, Francesco didn't regret it.
For more than an hour he practiced now together with Alejandro, Nico and Raj in a garage that Joanne had organized.
Francesco had never tried to make rock music before, but he liked how his voice sounded against the heavy guitar riffs. The songs were easy to memorize, but nonetheless great, they felt authentic and were full of emotion. He quickly learned how to shout too, seriously it wasn't that hard once you figured out the right technique.
While he learned a lot of new things, the guys still encouraged him to try and find his own style.
"You need to stand by what you're doing," Alejandro said, "or it's never gonna be good. No need to be perfect on first try."
The guitarist was right.
So together Francesco and the band experimented to find something that would work for all of them.
It felt like he could belong here, after all.
All three guys were as passionate about music as he was.

Raj, their drummer, didn't talk very much, but he wasn't half as grumpy as his grim face made you believe.

Nico, who played the keyboard and synthesizer, was the opposite, very friendly.

And Alejandro had something special about him, though Francesco couldn't figure out if it was very charming or very sleazy. Anyway, he had liked the guitarist instantly.
All three men were really good with their instruments, but Alejandro was probably far better than many other professionals that Francesco had met so far. He was exceptionally skilled and Francesco tried to pick up as much as possible from him while he could.

Only Joanne, Deep Rift's agent, had worried Francesco a little when she kept checking him out head to toe.
But to his relief, she seemed more interested in his professional skills and marketing potential than his body. Francesco couldn't do another Suzette agreement anymore.

"Time's up", she said, "We can't risk being too late in Nice."
The guys had been so absorbed in their music, they didn't notice how quickly the time passed. "Francesco," she turned to him, "we'll drop you off at home so you can pack, but hurry. The details of the contract we can discuss on the road."

He made it.

Half an hour later, Francesco was back at the apartment.
It was dark. Mae was not home yet.
She went to a friend after school to learn for their next exam and according to the clock, probably wouldn't be back in the next hour or two.
Now he regretted that he hadn't paid attention when Mae said to who she went this time. He could have called.

He ignored Joanne's request to hurry. Five more minutes he could wait.
Maybe she'd come home earlier than expected.
Not only because he really wanted to see her before he left and tell her in person about his big opportunity, share his excitement.
But he also desperately needed to finish the conversation he had started this morning.
He would leave, much earlier than he wanted, but seriously, he had to take this chance.
However, he didn't want to give up on Mae.
If it went well with the band – and he was sure it would, he would be more away than home for the next foreseeable time, but hell, that was no reason to end what they had.
They could do it despite the distance.
Have a real relationship, stop fooling around and be honest for once.
He wanted to believe it more than ever.
No – he knew they could.
One and a half years, that wasn't so long. And when she was done with school, she could come with him, travel, like she wanted.
If he was lucky enough, she wouldn't even have to do shitty part-time jobs.
He'd take care of her then.

The band van's honk pulled him out of his thoughts.
Fuck.
He would have to call Mae from the next road stop.

He took his bag, switched off the light and left.