Old Flame Blues

Author's Note: This story is completely fictional and did not happen. All characters and names are fictional and were made up. I do not make money from these stories. Please do not copy and plagiarize my work.

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Los Angeles, California

A burnt scent flowed beyond the short hallway entering the club offering the subtle invitation of smokers from the bar. The brick walls had been recently painted with a dark red color and only with a few gold tinted frames hanging from both sides. Each frame held a black and white photograph, some dated from decades of past, each containing the club's owner and special friends of his. A row of people were making their way through the entrance, passing by the metal detectors and two tall bodyguards in black suits with matching red ties. They greeted each guest with a smile, despite their intimidating size for men. They stood on front of a gated area where another suited man checked the ticket stubs for each passing member and gave them a stamp of approval. Beyond the red bricks led to black walls and a high ceiling in the club's main room.

Jerry's Soul Lounge had quickly become a hot spot deep in Los Angeles as a club centered around old music. The owner himself, Jerry Richards was a well known business man among the music industry. In the past he had worked as a manager and executive producer for blues and rock bands back in the seventies, all under the label of MCA. After reaching his mid-forties and becoming burnt out on managing tours across the world, Jerry had shifted his eyes onto smaller businesses that were easy to manage. It all began with a small diner back in his home town of Chicago, a little business that became a success in passing years. He had been a helping hand with blues legends Muddy Waters and BB King opening their own clubs, offering financial help out of respect to the men who had brought musical joy to him.

A minor heart attack back in the year of 1996 had nearly put Jerry into retirement, much less an early grave. He was fifty-one years old and was now forced to take things easy, for the sake of his children whom he hoped would follow his lead and turn his clubs into a family business. That dream had faded away when his son wanted to pursue a career in law and his daughter went on to become a model. Over a decade after escaping death, Jerry returned to the business world as a man in his sixties, wanting to build something centered around his true passion in life: old Classic Rock, R&B and Jazz music. He made a start in Los Angeles by using a couple million dollars to restore and renovate the local Jazz clubs that had become landmarks in town.

The old Jazz clubs was merely the beginning of his business plans entering the next decade. Jerry knew how much those revenues meant to the city and the history they carried with Jazz music in general. His main goal was to eventually open an old styled Blues club in the city, reliving the old days of going to local bars in Chicago and listening to fine music. It took years to scope out the city and find a decent building for his club. It would take a legal battle of three years for one specific old building that had been abandoned, waiting to be destroyed and rebuilt for a new business. All tangled up in the legal documentation of deeds and leases. Finally in 2016, he had the building and had dropped in the hefty price of five million dollars to rebuild and renovate an old defunct bar into the Soul Lounge music club.

An upper floor with a balcony view was added to the old club and every wall had been rebuilt. Jerry wanted the best sound system his money could afford, as he had planned from day one for this club to center all around live music. A sound crew of eight men had been hired, all of them with a history in audio production or touring. The club itself had been built to hold an audience of around four hundred people. It was easier to go small, rather than trying to make the biggest place in town. Jerry remembered the old days of his youth with bars and blues clubs, wanting to recapture that magic of walking into a small place and becoming thrilled at the talent on stage.

The grand opening was set in June of 2017 with an old friend of Jerry's making a special appearance on the stage. Jeff Beck and his band had the honors of debuting on the club's stage in front of a sold crowd. It was an eventful beginning for the new club, but Jerry had other plans when it came to the bands that would be sharing his club's stage. He had built a small management team, calling an old friend from MCA that owed him a favor. Alvin Baylor became the club's 'talent scout' as Jerry liked to call him, the man's sole job was to comb through local musicians and bands in and out of L.A. looking for gigs. The majority of bar bands were playing covers and were at a dead end, mediocre musicians whom would never get anywhere back in the old days when record company executives offered fat contracts.

Derek Bennett was a local L.A. musician that achieved not only impressing Alvin, but also grabbing Jerry's attention. At the age of thirty-eight, he was a former sessions player that had only had his name listed in the credits of a few select album recordings. Derek was a skinny man, standing tall with short brown hair that had been previously long and a thick black mustache. He had put together a small backing band, playing the leader with his guitar and doing singing duties. Hailing from Waco Texas, Jerry couldn't pull himself away from Derek once he heard his guitar playing and the fury his band could showcase on a stage. There was something about the way his band sounded that reminded the old man of the same classic rock bands he had managed decades ago. They played the blues heavy and fast like Led Zeppelin and the early incarnation of the Jeff Beck Group.

A contract had been offered for a residency gig, lasting up into 2020. It all began two years ago and now the age of forty had passed for the man. There was something about him that made Jerry speak of him in passing as a 'what could've been' or 'should've been famous' type musician. His skill on the guitar showed an obvious influence from various Blues masters but also a dose of originality that gave him a unique character. His stage presence was that of a master, wowing the crowd in front of the microphone stand and with a solid backing band behind him. Derek had named his backing band 'The Dirty Boys', a call out to how dirty they sounded in the mix. It was a standard lineup with a drummer, bass player and a second guitar player. The other guitarist had often shared lead duties alongside Derek and was known for using a slide when they broke out the real old school Blues standards.

A weekly schedule had been arranged and the name Derek B & The Dirty Boys covered the main poster outside the Soul Lounge. The name had caught the eye of a special woman as the sole reason she had purchased a twenty-five dollar ticket and had made her way into the smoke filled club as the evening hours were beginning to fade the day into night life. It was Wednesday and one of the three week days on schedule for Derek's band. They took Wednesday early shows then had their bigger shows on Friday and Saturday nights, often with a full sold out club. Word had spread across town with raving reviews of the band's set lists, mostly filled with covers of old Blues standards and a few original songs thrown in. An MC walked on stage, giving a formal introduction to the band. He was a short black man wearing a suit with a red tie and glasses over his eyes.

"Okay, before we get started... the only thing I wanna say is, if anyone here has a weak heart, they better leave right now because it's gonna get pretty heavy from here on end."

A small laugh was heard among the crowd while the MC's voice echoed a deep southern accent. Behind him was a drum set and three stacks of cabinet sized amplifier speakers. Two of them had black leather exterior lining with Fender logos in the corner, while the last one off to the right side had an orange lining. Each amp had a different head piece set up and plugged in cables ready to be used. On the left side of the stage standing next to one cabinet amp were two guitar stands. Both had Fender Stratocaster guitars sitting up in a plain sunburst finish and a white pick guard. One had an all maple neck, the other had a rosewood fretboard. The MC continued on speaking.

"Let's all do a nice thing here ladies and gentleman. Let's welcome back to the stage; James Williams on drums, John Adderly on bass, Jeremy Taylor on guitar and the one and only, Derek Bennett on guitar and vocals. The incredible Derek B and the Dirty Boys, come on let's hear it for 'em!"

The audience began to clap while the band members stepped onto the stage, entering from a door to the left side. Derek wore blue jeans and with a plain light blue t-shirt underneath a black blazer jacket. A large leather guitar strap covered his left shoulder attached to his guitar of choice, a Fender Stratocaster. James Williams was a tall black man, wearing cargo shorts and a yellow polo shirt. He made his way behind the drum set while Jeremy Taylor stepped out, clutching a blonde finished Fender Telecaster in his hands. The gloss finished maple neck shined from one of the dim lights above the stage. John Adderly was the last member to step out, another black man and with a sunburst finished Fender Jazz Bass strapped over his large framed body. They moved into their positions on stage while Derek stood in the center near the microphone. The MC smiled at all of them before making his way off stage via the back door.

It took only a few seconds for the three men with instruments strapped over them to plug into their amps of choice. Jeremy ran his Telecaster through a cabinet of a Fender Deluxe Reverb while Derek was plugged into an Orange CR 120. Down below, the band leader had a pedal board with an Ibanez Tubescreamer overdrive, a noise box and a simple compressor. The reverb was dialed in moderately to the Orange amp. When he needed a true washed out reverb tone, his own Fender Twin Reverb unit was ready for use. The guitar in his hands was just a simple Mexican built Fender made Stratocaster he bought from a local shop. He only wanted the guitar for it's three tone sunburst finish and rosewood fingerboard. The pickups had been stripped for a set of vintage style single coils and a black pickguard replaced the former white. This was a simple look in tribute to one of Derek's guitar heroes from back home, Stevie Ray Vaughan.

Looking over his other guitar player, Derek gave Jeremy a nod and then rolled the volume of his Stratocaster up before he fired off the opening notes of a fast paced instrumental song. The drums and bass followed behind their leader. When Derek stepped over the overdrive pedal to give distortion to his guitar, the was now on. The band was quick to fire off, playing in a high tempo rhythm as their front man was shuffling his way through a Texas inspired Blues instrumental. Echoes of the great Freddie King were heard through Derek's blistering solo introduction. The crowd whistled, getting up from their chairs and beginning to clap in pace with the drum's fast beats. This was the type of show they had paid to see on an early Wednesday night, straight up fast and dirty blues. The band would save their big numbers for the Friday and Saturday night shows, often opening those nights with slower songs.

The main room had a circular design with the bar off to the left side, still giving away a decent view of the stage in distance. The audience floor had the same matching gold railing around it with a few steps to walk down below. It was apparent that the room was once a dance floor to whatever it previously was before the current ownership remade the club. Hanging high above was a balcony with gold rails, offering an even better view of the action going on down below. The ceiling was like a small dome with various murals painted by multiple artists over the high ceiling. When once glanced up, they witnessed the artists' impressions of various Blues music masters all gazing down below at them. Robert Johnson; Howlin' Wolf, Albert King, Elmore James, Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown, John Lee Hooker, T-Bone Walker, Lightnin' Hopkins and Albert Collins were noticable faces among the various many to one woman's eye. Her view shifted back to the stage while walking near the rails to enter the round floor and join the audience. A round of applause was clapped after the intstrumental opening song was finished.

"Thank you... This next one is called Jumping At Shadows."

Derek's voice had an obvious southern accent, calling back to his Texas roots. His eyes glanced over the audience from where he was standing. It was always a joyous experience to gaze into the faces of the people who had paid money to witness his act on stage. There were adults of all ages among the audience, men and women alike of various races and backgrounds. Blues music was something that could bring people together, cause everyone suffers through life and endures heart break one time or another. Jeremy didn't waste any time as he began playing what was a slow, twelve-bar blues rhythm. The young man had his long black hair curled up into a pony tail that beat against his back when he turned his head. His face was clean shaved, only revealing his pale skin. Derek wasted no time gliding his fingers across the strings to play the opening lead riff of the song.

Unlike the first song, this was a cover. Jeremy always preferred to play original pieces that either he or the band together had written. Derek liked to do covers as a form of tribute to his heroes. This was a song he knew from a guitar player who had a large influence on him: Peter Green. He rolled down the volume knob of his guitar and began to play the notes for a sweet slow solo. The drums and bass remained still until this short solo was complete and then they followed on. John beat his drums lightly to replicate a metronome, counting down the time in his head while James' bass lines followed with Jeremy in the rhythm. Derek closed his eyes as he began to sing.

"What can you say, there isn't much to tell."

The southern draw in his voice came out clearly as he elevated his tone lightly for the next verse.

"I'm going down hill, and I blame myself.

I've been... jumping at shadows, thinking 'bout my life."

He played a few notes after his lyrics. The rhythm guitar had shifted, playing two bar chords when he uttered the song's title track drawing at the bridge of the song. Derek's eyes opened as he continued to sing the slow song.

"Everybody points their hand at me. I know I'm just a picture, of what I should've been."

Glancing among the audience that had their eyes locked on the stage, there was one familiar face from the corner of his eye. Derek glanced to his left, witnessing an old familiar face that forced him to enlarge his eyes and give a double take. It was her and he couldn't deny her for anyone similar. Concentrating on the song, he continued to sing.

"I've been jumping at shadows, thinkin' about my life."

How fitting for her to come into the club with this specific song currently in play. The drums picked up as this was the half way mark of the song and time for the solo. Derek rolled the volume knob of his guitar up full and shifted the selector switch to the neck pickup. He struck the first note of the solo hard, shaking his ring finger in heavy vibrato before he pulled the string up for a full step bend. This was the beginning of what launched him into a fiery Blues solo, based in the minor Pentatonic scale played high up on the fretboard between the twelve and sixteenth frets. The rush of old emotions ran through him while he went through the solo start to finish, adding his own little flare to the way Peter Green himself had played it over fifty years ago. The rhythm picked up pace before slowing back down to the same twelve-bar shuffle as the solo ended. Derek closed his eyes before singing into the mic.

"God have mercy, I think I'm going insane."

The crowd below erupted with claps and an audible whistle in approval from his guitar solo. Reopening his eyes, Derek continued singing when he glanced to see that same woman from far away.

"The devil's been gettin' at me. He's got me down again."

Rolling the volume knob down again on his guitar, he made a quick bend and vibrato release for a high note.

"Got me jumping at shadows, thinkin' about my life."

The outro of the song was next and Derek turned the volume of his instrument back up and played the slow blues based turn around riff to finish it off. He took a deep breath while the crowd clapped and cheered for the song. His eyes went back to that same familiar face in the distance. She had long brunette hair, that same smile he remembered for years ago gazing at him from far away. Derek gave her a little smile and nodded before he turned his attention back to the audience in front of him down below. The band was only two songs into a ten song set list that would last an hour. He couldn't spend all his time thinking about an old lover, the show had to go on first.

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1 HOUR LATER

Sweat dripped from the forehead of every band member before they walked off stage and the MC said farewell to the audience. The club would remain open for the remainder of the night, but on a Wednesday evening, the live band didn't have a long enduring set. After they were done, the P.A. system to the club was used to play Classic Rock and R&B hits, selected by Jerry Richards himself. A healthy dosage of songs by Stevie Wonder, Thin Lizzy, Parliament, Pink Floyd and The Who. Backstage, the sound technicians helped Derek and his band move their equipment from stage and down the hall. Derek always brought two guitars, the second was a back up only to be used if he broke a string on his main axe. It always took a little over ten minutes to move the gear into the back stage rooms. Sweaty from the stage, Derek took off his blazer jacket and let out a sigh while placing his main guitar into a hardshell case. One of the technicians stepped into his room, whistling at him.

"Hey Mr. Bennett, you've got a visitor waiting for you out in the hall."

The man didn't bother hanging around at all, simply poking his head in the open door way and sending off the message. Derek didn't need to know the name, as it wasn't a surprise that someone wanted to see him. Why she had to find her way into this club and come back to haunt his life was one question the man couldn't help but wonder to himself. Maybe it was a coincidence they were meeting again for the first time in seven long years. Not wanting to waste any time thinking about it, Derek hurried out the door and soon heard her voice calling out to him.

"Hey, Mr. Rock Star! That's quite a show you put on out there, Mr. Bennett. You play a mean guitar."

Standing slightly taller than her normal height thanks to a pair of black high heel pumps, Jennifer Love Hewitt offered a smile to her old friend. She wore a black jacket covering a white dress underneath and with a great display of cleavage beneath. Derek dropped his lower lip, almost melting at the sight of her before him. He smiled, trying to shake his head but not without his big brown eyes glancing back into hers.

"I can't believe you walked into this place tonight. You nearly gave me a heart attack when I saw you from the stage. What are you doing in a place like this?"

He slowly approached her, standing merely feet away as Jennifer replied to his question.

"I saw an advertisement flyer at the gym last week. When I saw your name on it with a band, I was surprised. Derek, it's been seven long years since I've last seen you. I'm glad to see you're doing okay and still playing guitar. You actually can sing pretty well, you know?"