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Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry about the small delay. Wanted to get this posted on Tuesday, but this was a weird week for me.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN - Show Business


May 1997


“Oh, this?” Spike asked, gesturing to his scar, though the listening audience could not see his movements. He hated the fact that his hands were shaking. He didn’t know why though; this was just a radio interview. There was no physical audience in front of him, except for the DJ conducting the interview. Angel sat next to him, headphones on his head as well, leaning wordlessly into the microphone.

This radio interview was just one of several that were set up by their management at Columbia as an addendum to the eleven sold out shows they had. It was a grueling seventeen days and Spike was more than happy that this was to be the last interview of the brief tour, followed by the final showcase tonight. The rigid schedule was not something he was used to. It was quite demanding.

But it was also unbelievably amazing and enlivening.

The DJ, Sara, nodded, “Yeah, love, I have to admit, it gives you a certain sexy bad boy image.”

Angel snickered.

Spike shot him a look before saying, “No, I wish I could say it came from a bar fight, or somethin’ manly like that…No, I, uh, I was twenty-one, working at Willy’s…Willy’s Music Store. The night shift. I was supposed to close for the evenin’. And, uh, we were robbed. Don’t remember much… ‘cept the guy cold cocked me with the gun…”

“Oh. How awful,” Sara exhibited the appropriate amount of shock in her voice, “Did they catch him?”

Spike shook his head, “No….no, they never did catch the bloody bastard…Last I heard anyway…”

Sara voiced her concern and then spoke to Angel, “So, Angel, any harrowing experiences to share with us?”

Angel gave a small laugh, “No. I’m sorry to say that I’ve lived a rather boring life.”

There were a few more standard questions, mostly about their latest single, to which the two dutifully answered. Then the DJ asked the questions Spike was waiting for. The exact same questions all the other DJ’s had been asking.

“So, how did you guys meet? I read that a magazine ad has something to do it?”

Spike gave a small laugh, “Yeah. It’s not as brow raising as it sounds. Angel here placed an ad in a little magazine about his band at the time needing a lead singer. And I tried out.” He cast a look at Angel, “Still not sure how I got the gig.”

Angel leaned into his microphone, “Spike can downplay it all he wants - and he does - but all it took was those few minutes of his audition for me to know that I wanted to work with him. His talent is amazing. We wouldn‘t be anything without him.”

Spike was glad that this was a radio interview, because he felt the burning of his cheeks, knowing he was blushing from the compliment.

“Okay, now, if I understand correctly, it’s time for you guys to give us a performance? What are you going to do?”

Spike nodded, despite the fact that the listeners would not be able to see him. “Yeah. We’re gonna do a personal favorite of mine.”

He removed the headphones and he and Angel moved to the little set up they prepared ahead of time. Angel picked up his guitar and Spike adjusted the microphone.

Angel started the song off with a few measures of guitar solo before Spike, taking a big breath, began to sing.


She's taking her time making up the reasons
To justify all the hurt inside
Guess she knows from the smiles and the look in their eyes
Everyone's got a theory about the bitter one
They're saying
Mama never loved her much
And daddy never keeps in touch
That's why she shies away from human affection
But somewhere in a private place
She packs her bags for outer space
And now she's waiting for the right kind of pilot
To come
She's saying

I would fly you to the moon and back
If you'll be if you'll be my baby
Got a ticket for a world where
we belong
So would you be my baby
Ooh-ooh

She can't remember a time
When she felt needed
If love was red then she was color-blind
All her friends they've been tried for treason
And crimes that were never defined
She's saying
Love is like a barren place
And reaching out for human faith is
Is like a journey I just don't have a map for
So baby gonna take a dive and push the shift to overdrive
Send a signal that she's hanging all her hopes on the stars


After they were done, Sara and everyone else in the studio broke out in applause. Spike gave a brief nod of thanks.

“I love that song,” Sara exclaimed, sounding excited. “Now, I have to ask the question all the girls out there are wanting to know. Anyone special? I noticed, Spike, a ring on your finger?”

“Yeah. Very much spoken for,” Spike said, nodding enthusiastically, a wide smile on his face at the mention of his wife.

“And judging from your smile, I’d say you’re very happy.”

“Definitely.”

“And I’m sure there are plenty of disappointed young ladies. And what about you, Angel?”

“Very single,” he said briefly.

“Well, judging by the frantic waving of your manager on the other side of the window-” Sara started.

Angel and Spike simultaneously turned around to see their manager, Lorne Krevswath, giving a rather frantic wave.

Sara continued, “-It’s time for us to draw this to an end. Well, thank you, Spike, Angel, for stopping by. And everyone listening in this morning, be sure to see Acid Reign tonight. And congratulations, guys, on your amazing success.”

“Thank you, Sara,” Angel said.

They shared goodbyes and Spike and Angel exited the sound booth, moving to Lorne and Willow, who had watched the interview behind the window.

“What’s up, Lorne? I thought we didn’t need to get to the sound check until later?” Spike asked.

Lorne Krevswath was an interesting person, to say the least. Eccentric to the extreme, today he was sporting a brightly colored suit. Teal, to be exact. With a pink silk shirt and matching teal tie. However, despite whatever oddities he had, he was highly sought after, always knowing exactly what his clients needed to do in order to gain popularity.

Lorne shook his head, “No worries, my little chickadees, everything is right on schedule for that.”

“Then why the franticness?” Willow asked, smirking.

“Why, we’ve got to get these two to their next interview, of course.”

Angel stared at him, disbelieving, “Another one?”

“Oh, Angel cakes, welcome to show business.”


END CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Author’s Note: The song is “To the Moon and Back” by Savage Garden…





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