The Love Song of Jonny Valentine by Teddy Wayne

Author:Teddy Wayne [Wayne, Teddy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Literary, Coming of Age, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9780715645673
Google: 28jeNxMS0zYC
Amazon: 1476705852
Publisher: Gerald Duckworth & Co Ltd
Published: 2012-12-31T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 10

Memphis (Second Day)

I had a hangover. I should’ve put out a glass of water for myself like I do for Jane, and I woke up like three times in the middle of the night but was too tired to get up for the bathroom, even though I knew it would make me feel better. Usually I’m good about doing hard things now that will help me in the future. Deferring gratification, Jane says. An extra hour of vocal practice targeting your weaknesses in the present means an extra thousand in sales a year from now. It’s what separates one-hit wonders from musicians with career longevity.

I took a couple baby aspirin from my toiletry kit when my wake-up call rang at eight a.m., which helped a little, but I still felt like I’d just done thirty minutes of high-intensity cardio on a zolpidem. I got down about half my omelet, but had to run to the bathroom and barely made it in time before it came back up.

I don’t know how Jane does this.

By the time Nadine met me for my morning tutoring, I’d recovered enough so that she didn’t notice anything, except for once when I forgot what eleven times twelve was and she said, “Come on, slowpoke, what’s with the lethargy?”

I tried napping in the afternoon before sound check, but I only turned around in my bed a bunch. Zack probably had good hangover advice, but I couldn’t remember his room number. I called the front desk and asked for the room of Zack Ford.

“One moment, sir,” the woman said, and I was so surprised, I didn’t have anything planned to say when Zack picked up and said hello. I guess they weren’t famous enough to have to use fake names. Or maybe they did it so groupies could find them. That was Mi$ter $mith’s trick. He’d mention how cool his hotel was during his interlude banter, and you’d see all these girls in the lobby waiting for him postshow. He sings about hotel groupies in his song “$ext $candal,” which he couldn’t play on our tour. It wouldn’t work for me, because I couldn’t exactly be like, Hey, your Marriott is really cool, I’ve got an awesome room with a view right down the hall from my mother.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi. You have a name?”

“It’s me. Jonny.”

“Jonny.” He laughed. “I thought you were some girl.”

My speaking voice was high, but I didn’t think it was that high. I made it a little lower, enough so it wasn’t obvious what I was doing. It’s easy for me to control, which is one thing Rog says is a huge weapon in a singer’s arsenal, impersonation, since it means you can be a different singer to suit the subject. I’ve been working on an impression of Walter, to spring it on him one day when it’s good. It kind of hurts my throat, since his voice is so gravelly, so I can’t practice too much. “No, it’s me.”

“So, as my Uncle

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