Dear Reader,
My name is Dominic Price, bassist for the rock band Black Phoenix. Perhaps you’ve heard of us. About ten years ago we topped the Billboard charts—a multi-platinum band whose last album was the most successful of its century. Until the day our drummer overdosed, and my best mate and lead singer, Noah Clark, fell apart, taking down the band with him. Music is the driving force of my life so when it was snatched away from me so quickly, I drifted a bit—years actually. Then one night I discovered a fledgling group named Blind Man’s Alibi in a pub in London. Recognizing their talent, I introduced them to my record label and the rest, as they say, is rock and roll history.
It wasn’t the same though, so three years ago, after winding down a tour with BMA, I found myself in California, USA. Noah was just beginning to talk about bringing Black Phoenix back together and we were searching for a drummer. That’s where I met her. Becca—Dr. Rebecca Dahlman. With flame red hair and eyes the color of emeralds, pale porcelain skin dotted with freckles and lush feminine curves: she was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes upon. I was happy with her. Happier than I’d ever been before. Until I walked away. Panicked at the realization a woman could affect me both physically and emotionally, I ran. All the way back to London. But I never forgot her. Not for a moment.
Now I’m back. Back in California. Back in her capable hands. Only this time I’m a patient in her emergency room—a man injured in an automobile accident. And though her touch still has the ability to make me ache, it is with regret. For the brush of her fingers through my hair is no longer a lover’s caress, but a doctor’s assessment of my injuries. I ruined everything leaving her the way I did. Hurt her too badly to ever hope for the chance to make up for past mistakes. But I have to try.
If charm and charisma won’t do the trick, I’ll find another way. I have to. Because seeing Rebecca again…it was like someone let the air back into the room. And imagining a future without her—is more difficult than imagining one without music.
My name is Dominic Price, bassist for the rock band Black Phoenix. Perhaps you’ve heard of us. About ten years ago we topped the Billboard charts—a multi-platinum band whose last album was the most successful of its century. Until the day our drummer overdosed, and my best mate and lead singer, Noah Clark, fell apart, taking down the band with him. Music is the driving force of my life so when it was snatched away from me so quickly, I drifted a bit—years actually. Then one night I discovered a fledgling group named Blind Man’s Alibi in a pub in London. Recognizing their talent, I introduced them to my record label and the rest, as they say, is rock and roll history.
It wasn’t the same though, so three years ago, after winding down a tour with BMA, I found myself in California, USA. Noah was just beginning to talk about bringing Black Phoenix back together and we were searching for a drummer. That’s where I met her. Becca—Dr. Rebecca Dahlman. With flame red hair and eyes the color of emeralds, pale porcelain skin dotted with freckles and lush feminine curves: she was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes upon. I was happy with her. Happier than I’d ever been before. Until I walked away. Panicked at the realization a woman could affect me both physically and emotionally, I ran. All the way back to London. But I never forgot her. Not for a moment.
Now I’m back. Back in California. Back in her capable hands. Only this time I’m a patient in her emergency room—a man injured in an automobile accident. And though her touch still has the ability to make me ache, it is with regret. For the brush of her fingers through my hair is no longer a lover’s caress, but a doctor’s assessment of my injuries. I ruined everything leaving her the way I did. Hurt her too badly to ever hope for the chance to make up for past mistakes. But I have to try.
If charm and charisma won’t do the trick, I’ll find another way. I have to. Because seeing Rebecca again…it was like someone let the air back into the room. And imagining a future without her—is more difficult than imagining one without music.
