The Hush Society Presents... by Izzy Matias (best desktop ebook reader .txt) 📕

"Girl, he’s not worth your present," I mimic Amber.

"You have to stop doing that!" Cassie laughs again. "It’s terrible."

Just when I think we’ve gone off topic, she corrects me. "By the way, it’s ‘girrrl.’"

CHAPTER TWENTY

We enter a narrow, dimly lit bookshop brimming with people our age.

The crowd sways and nods to the beat—the pulse of the music. My fingers tap and my head bobs along. This rhythm is ace!

Even though I’m an inch above six feet, I’m not the only one with the advantage of height in the crowd. I strain my neck at weird angles to catch a glimpse of the band performing this catchy alternative rock song as Cassie and I inch our way forward.

One of the guitarists—the one on rhythm—lets his long orange hair fly in circles. Once he stops head banging, his messy shoulder length hair rests on his face.

"Alex!" I shout, but the music is too loud for him to hear me.

Cassie’s past is following her ‘round and so is mine. First in Beverley and now here.

In front of me, Cassie spins around. "Who’s Alex?"

"The lad with long orange hair on guitar," I tell her. "He’s my mate from College. We were in a heavy-metal band back in the day."

So this is the band he was telling me about. I can spot a few heavy elements in their riffs, but other than that, it’s completely changed. Their sound is tight. Much, much better than we ever were.

"They’re good. Really good," Cassie shouts back at me. "Maybe we can get ‘em at one of the shows."

"That would be great," I say, grinning.

They finish their song and the crowd cheers.

"Thank you. Have a lovely afternoon," the lead singer says and they start unplugging their gear. Chatter fills the air around us and we make our way upfront. The crowd is like a rubber tire letting out air, decompressing.

"Excuse me. I’ll go have a chat with Alex." I pat Cassie on the shoulder and move against the current.

"Alex," I shout.

The turf of messy orange hair flips my way. His cloudy green eyes are poking out. "Cameron?"

"Yeah, mate." I beam. "You lads were ace!"

I meet his hand in the air for a high-five. His free hand passes me a cold bottle of Pims and I take a swig.

"So what have you been up to?" I ask Alex.

"You know, this and that."

"Always so secretive." I laugh. "C’mon, mate. I’m not going to tell the whole world…oh, wait. I was a radio jock."

He laughs, but doesn’t explain anything.

"What are you lads called? You sounded pretty tight."

"The Honeybee Trees."

I give him an odd look. It sounds like an indie band rather than an alternative rock band.

"I'm just going with it." He laughs, shrugging. "We’ve already signed with a label, so no use in switching names."

"When are you lads releasing your debut album?" I ask, remembering that Alex was obsessed with getting signed even whilst we were still in College. I was, too. It’s like a measure of success, innit? A label seeing your potential and investing in your growth as a musician. All that money to get experts to produce an album and then all the strategising that comes with marketing the band and organising a tour. Not a lot of musicians realise it, but a massive chunk of success in the music industry revolves around the business side of it. That’s what Eric tells me time and time again.

"Not for a while," he says, "but we’ve been working on it since I last saw you. It's hard juggling Uni and music, but can you believe it—I love both. I can't give up one for the other."

"Ha. You studying?"

"Picked Philosophy as an easy way out, but I ended up loving it."

"You lads on tour?"

"In a few weeks. We've even been asked to play at Willowfields."

"That is amazing." I beam and pat him on the back. "Congratulations!" Eric, Benji, and I hope to go to the Willowfields Music Festival amid our tour schedule, since we secured our tickets. Wow, to play at Willowfields Music Festival—one of the biggest in the UK—would be a dream. "What’s next? Glastonbury or T in the Park?"

As we exchange updates with each other’s lives, I get to thinking: If The Honeybee Trees can do it, so can I. Maybe not right away, but…eventually.

"What brings you here?" Alex asks as we both empty our bottles.

"I’m on tour."

"Oh yeah? With who?"

"Have you heard of The Hush Society?"

"Yes," Alex says loud. The next performer, who is setting up, glances at us. "Callum Ford’s been raving about it online."

"Eric, Benji, and I are in a band now called The Fortunate Only. I never thought I’d get to debut on tour, y’know? And with my best mates, too. It’s great to be given an opportunity like this."

"I always knew you three would eventually play together. ‘Twas inevitable."

I grin back, feeling nothing but pride for a fellow musician who is finally getting where he’s always wanted to be. "Cheers to us, mate."

"Cheers!" Alex clinks our empty bottles. "Love the concept of secret shows and the community is great, but to be honest, you shouldn’t limit yourselves to secret shows. Get as much exposure as you can. Play at pubs and promote yourselves online. Go to open mic nights every night."

I thank him for the advice and tell him that we plan to record soon. When he tells me he wants to check out our music, I give him the link to our website and we exchange mobile numbers. Maybe I could get him to participate in the youth mentorship program. It would be great to have him share what he’s learned about securing a record deal and how to deal with labels.

"Good luck out there," Alex says and slaps my shoulder before leaving. "Hope to share a stage with you again soon."

"Yeah. Thanks, mate. See you around."

A crowd has thickened in front of the next performer and I find my way back to