Chapter Text
Fifteen minutes after Kayla moved her last suitcase into the guest room - her room now, for the foreseeable future - she started asking how long it would be before they went out on tour. In the office, once they’d brought in Kayla for the first time as an official DOA employee (or subcontractor, or whatever they were technically), every musician that crossed their path welcomed Kayla and started giving her tips on how to survive her first tour. Even Lou, when they were just hanging out in the studio floor lobby that afternoon, couldn’t hold back from sharing tour stories.
When Nico mentioned setting up a time for all of them to talk to Reyna about scheduling their first tour as a band, it started to feel real.
Will felt like he was going to be sick.
He figured he just needed to get back into the swing of things. He hadn’t played a show in quite a while, and at this point in the production cycle on his first album, he’d already been playing one-off promotional shows. It was different now, of course - he’d brought in a band instead of continuing on as a solo artist, and his production cycle hadn’t been interrupted by a 30-day rehab stay on the other side of the country. So he figured that, once more of the album was recorded, and once they’d started rehearsing, the realness of headlining a tour would feel less like a death sentence.
Will felt like he had to keep reminding himself: he liked playing shows. He felt comfortable on a stage in front of a crowd. But recently, even the thought of being in the same room as twenty strangers made him feel dizzy.
He just needed to push through, until everything felt fun again. He needed to dive right into the deep end, and once he started that free fall from ten meters over the water, he would remember why he loved this so much, and muscle memory would start to take over.
It was during one of their first band meetings after finalizing the album’s tracklist that Will suggested: “I think we should start playing local shows. The sooner, the better.”
“It’ll take weeks for Reyna to set us up at a big enough venue,” Nico said with a shake of his head. “At that rate, it’ll basically just be an extension of the release tour.”
“What about, like, underground shows?” Will pressed. “Basement venues or bars, that kind of thing. Kayla needs a chance to get familiar with our older stuff, and we can all ease back into performing.”
Still, Nico didn’t seem convinced. “As soon as word gets out that it’s you on stage, any bar in the city would get overwhelmed, even before the show starts. It’s too much of a risk.”
“We could book the shows under a fake name,” Lou suggested. “I mean, it’s not like we have a real band name anyway, so as long as we don’t throw Will’s name out there, we should be in the clear.”
Nico leaned back in his chair, his arms folded over his chest as he mulled it over for a few seconds. “I’ll bring it up to Reyna, and probably Hedge. But while we’re on the topic, we need a band name anyway. We’ve already put that conversation off for too long.”
Lou had her feet kicked up on the conference table between them. “I think we should just go with Solace. Plain and simple. It’s what the crowds are already chanting at our shows, and it’ll have enough of an association with the old stuff that we won’t need to do as much to try to rebuild the fanbase.”
“No way,” Will argued right away. “That’s basically the same as being called The Will Solace Band. How is that fair to you guys? I mean, can anybody here name a single member of the Dave Matthews Band except for the obvious? Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers? Paul McCartney and the Wings?”
“It’s not exactly the same situation,” Nico pointed out. “I’d say it’s closer to Paramore versus Hayley Williams.”
“Right,” Kayla chimed in, “a person who was originally signed as a solo artist but insisted on forming a band instead. Will’s just behind the curve on the transition - and at least DOA let us sign as an actual band, instead of just Will’s backup group.”
“A reverse- Panic! At the Disco,” Lou added.
Will let out a frustrated huff, scrubbing his hands over his face and into his hair before dropping his arms onto the table. “But Solace is literally my name.”
Lou scoffed. “Sorry, do you have name recognition on par with Hayley Williams? We’re going to need something for people to grab onto and go, oh, yeah that Solace guy made good music, maybe his band is even better!”
“We don’t have any other options?” Will pleaded.
“All in favor of Solace?” Kayla asked, one hand shooting into the air, then added, “the band, that is. Not to be confused with Solace, the guy.”
A round of laughter arose from the table, followed by Lou’s hand and Nico’s, then, resigned, Will’s. “Fine. We can be Solace.”
Nico’s foot nudged against Will’s under the table. “Great. Now we just need a fake name to book ourselves under.”
Will crossed his arms over his chest and grumbled, “How about Blackstone?”
Lou slammed a hand down on the table. “Done!”
“I was kidding--”
“Nope! We’re doing it,” Lou insisted. “Any other orders of business, or can we call this a meeting adjourned?”