TRACK THIRTEEN:
MAKE YOUR OWN KIND OF MUSIC

❝ nobody can tell ya
there's only one song worth singing
they may try and sell ya
'cause it hangs them up to see someone like you ❞
— cass elliott

.•° ✿ °•.

During the months that Billy was in rehab, The Six were in limbo. They had been dropped from their record label and had to pay back their advances. Meanwhile, Solstice were coming off the belatedly growing success of their second album.

FRANCESCA: Those few months were actually... kind of nice. I think we all tried to be there for each other, you know? Not just for Camila, but everyone in The Six.

INTERVIEWER: What about you? Were you guys thinking about the third album yet?

FRANCESCA: Yes and no. I mean, you know Hank, he's always itching to get into another project. But I can only speak for myself. I liked having a break in-between albums. We were getting to the stage where we could have some time off and still pay the bills. Well– I say "time off", but we were still doing gigs consistently. Everything up until this point had just felt so frantic, you know?

Looking back, I think... I think it was good. The calm before the storm.

INTERVIEWER: A good or bad kind of storm?

[Francesca almost answers immediately, then hesitates]

FRANCESCA: Good, mostly.

.•° ✿ °•.

A comfortably warm breeze blows over Laurel Canyon, brushing Francesca's skin. She has her eyes shut under the sun's warmth as she lays flat on her back; her Martin across her stomach, she finger-picks the chord progression that has been coming together the last few days. It's a sweet, simple melody, one that had caught Goldie's ear as soon as she heard it. When Francesca left the house, she left behind the girl hunched over a notebook and humming lyrics to herself.

     It seems she has another fan. A stream of enthusiastic babbling joins in her playing. Turning her head, she meets eyes with the almost four month-old baby laid there, with eyes just like her mother's.

     "You like that? Do you, Jules?" Francesca beams at her; Julia grabs her feet and gurgles excitedly.

     Camila laughs too, filming her and Julia from the rocking chair on the porch beside them. "She likes you, that's for sure."

     "Yeah, well, we're best friends. Of course she does."

     Lowering her camera for a moment, Camila gazes at them both sentimentally. "Fran? Have you ever wanted kids of your own?"

     Francesca sits up slowly and sets her guitar aside. The question surprises her, but she tries to think about it. "Maybe if the timing was right, sure," she shrugs. She knows that when she looks at little Julia — or all her nephews back home — she can't help but feel a strong fondness for kids. But it just isn't at the top of Francesca's list right now. Music takes up most of her time right now, and what would be the point in having a child she couldn't spend time with?

     There is a knock on the porch door. Graham appears, poking his head out. "Camila, your mom's asking for you."

Mrs. Alvarez has been living here in Laurel Canyon since Julia was born. In Billy's absence, she has been keeping everything in ship-shape, including the directionless members of The Six. Even Francesca feels like she's being mothered when she has come to visit.

     "Ah..." Camila sighs. "Can you two watch Jules for a minute? I won't be long."

     "Sure," he nods, already sitting himself down on the blanket beside his niece. Graham has taken to being an uncle like a duck in water — here is someone who definitely wouldn't mind having a family in the future.

     "She's so cute," Francesca blurts out.

     "I know..." Graham grins. "The other day, we were hanging out in the yard, and she just... she looked at me with this huge smile. It was totally deliberate, too, not like when she has gas."

For a few moments, they sink into each other's company, playing with Julia on the blanket.

"I'm picking Billy up tomorrow."

Francesca's head whips up, her mouth falling open. "Oh, really?" she asks. Those months in rehab flew by. "How're you feeling about it?"

"Okay, I think," Graham nods, surprisingly upbeat. "I think it'll be good to have him home. You know, things can finally get back to normal again. We can make more music — you know, eventually, we can take it slow. And of course there's this little one he has to meet..." he says, tickling Julia's tummy to make her babble.

Through it all, Francesca tries very hard not to say a word. Her thoughts don't make it to her lips; those thoughts being that, she isn't sure it will be that easy. She doubts Billy will be ready to hop straight back into playing with the band. Sobriety is a tough journey in itself. Francesca is seeing it and hearing about the trials of it firsthand from Tony, even though she remains so proud of how far he's come. It doesn't just solve itself like that.

But she gets it. Graham and the others have been in limbo since Billy went to rehab. And with the tour still cancelled and their advances paid back, it would be nice to know what was coming next.

"Does Camila know?" asks Francesca.

"Yeah," Graham lowers his voice to a whisper. "But she hasn't said a whole lot about it yet."

No wonder, thinks Francesca. Right on cue then, Camila walks back out, sweeping her hair behind her shoulder. Picking up her guitar, Francesca takes her chance to make an exit. "I think I should probably head back home," she says.

"Aw, are you sure?" Camila tilts her head.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," Francesca shoots them a thumbs up, setting her guitar on its strap over her shoulder. "But, uh... about tomorrow..." She pauses; both seem to pick up on exactly what she's getting at. "Let me know if you need anything. Or us, you know, we're not far away after all."

"Thank you. Seriously, you've all done more than enough."

Graham re-iterates Camila's words, shooting Francesca a warm look. She returns it. Once more, she is filled with a relief at how easeful things have become between them both these last few months. For example, she asked Graham for opinions on new chord progressions she was trying out, just so he had something to do. Although that wasn't an entirely useless exercise — Francesca knows very well how talented Graham is, no matter how much he might downplay it. Either way, they had talked more, growing more comfortable than they had been in a very long time.

     It's really starting to feel like a true friendship, and Francesca couldn't feel more grateful.

.•° ✿ °•.

GRAHAM: We didn't really understand addiction back then. I mean, I thought he'd just dry out. Things would go back to the way they used to be. Pretty soon, I found out that wasn't the case. We all did.

BILLY: I knew had to meet my daughter. But when I did, I just... [Sighs] To this day, I'll never be able to make up for the fact that I missed her birth, and the first few months of her life. You can't turn back time like that. And Camila, she– she didn't want me touch her in the beginning, couldn't even look at me. Music was the last thing on my mind...

I told Graham that I couldn't stay in the band. I couldn't end up like our dad. I had a family to take care of.

GRAHAM: I remember I said to him, "We're your family. I'm your family." But, at that point, Billy had made up his mind. He was our frontman. We couldn't go on without a frontman. So the band was nearly falling apart. I tried to be optimistic. I kept us practicing as much as I could, and I still had my job at the body shop.

WARREN: Yeah, I was working down at Malibu Harbour cleaning boats, which I loved... and, uh, and doing a lot of mushrooms. Which I also loved.

EDDIE: Basically, we were back where we started. Worse, even.

INTERVIEWER: Are you still upset about it?

EDDIE: Me? Nah. I mean, holding onto that shit will be the death of you. But he really fucked us over.

KAREN: I mean, bands fall apart, you know. That's rock and roll. I just... thought this one was different.

.•° ✿ °•.

The memory of seeing Billy this afternoon lingers with Francesca. She'd dropped by just to say hello, and had been met with him stood solitary in the kitchen. He was wearing a grey hoodie and a tattered baseball cap. Billy had been downcast the whole time, scarcely speaking a word to her.

     "How are you doing?" she'd ask him.

     "Fine," he'd reply.

Or:

     "Have you seen Julia yet?"

     "Yeah."

Or:

     "Let us know if you need anything, okay?"

     "Okay."

     Billy seemed like he was grieving for the moments lost. When she emerged with Julia in her arms, Camila was distant with him, waiting for him to become the man she hoped he could be. He couldn't even trust himself to hold his daughter. Francesca had excused herself to go home after a while, not wanting to walk on any more eggshells...

     That moment now melds paradoxically with this rooftop party she's at — Billy's face heavy with fatigue and guilt, quiet and timid like she had never seen him before, clashes against the Kool & The Gang song thumping over the speakers. This is a life that seems so far away from him at the moment.

     Then there's the news that Billy had quit the band. Maybe it didn't shock her, but it did make her heart sink. Billy was lost, and the band has been left trying to pick up the pieces.

     Perhaps that is why Francesca and the others in Solstice headed out to a party tonight — they felt grateful for sticking together so far, and needed to vacate the cloud of gloom that was still freshly raining down on The Six. They found this rooftop party downtown in L.A., populated with others in the music industry not dissimilar to them.

     All of them but Goldie — off to get a drink at the bar — stand together by the pool, chatting amongst themselves in high spirits. Francesca drifts back into their conversation midway.

     "Well, we're not doing a new album until Dougie here gets a haircut," she hears Hank say.

     They all stare at the overgrown mane of hair going just past Doug's shoulders. He had been growing it out for a while, and they had accepted it when it was a rugged-looking mullet... but this is a step too far. Doug takes a wounded look and clutches his luscious locks. "What's wrong with my hair?" he asks, "I thought it looked pretty bitchin'."

     "Dude, I love you, but you have to cut it," Carlo says mercifully.

     "This is what rockstars have! It's fashionable. Robert Plant has long hair."

     "I think you need to shampoo it less," Francesca giggles. "It's– it's very shiny."

     "Yeah," Victoria grins, "it's more Farrah Fawcett than Robert Plant at the minute."

     Hank's cheeks inflate like a pufferfish, a small spit of his drink escaping before he chokes through a laugh on the rest.

Doug rolls his eyes, but can't help letting a smile play across his face either. "That's exactly what I was goin' for," Doug chuckles. Francesca nudges his shoulder, and she feels his lanky arm drape across her shoulders; Doug knows they're all only teasing (but seriously... the hair has to go).

DOUG: [Shakes his head and sighs] I don't know what the hell I was thinking. I looked like a human mop.

     Goldie comes meandering back through the crowd again, but she isn't alone. Following her in tow is another woman, brown-skinned with bouncing curls and gentle, almost shy eyes — or maybe that has more to do with the fact that she's being ushered towards the group. "Everybody, I have someone I'd like you to meet!" Goldie announces. "This is Simone Jackson, she's gonna record some songs at the label pretty soon. I saw her at the Troubadour last week and, Simone, your voice is just stunning."

     "Oh, uh– thanks," Simone laughs softly. "But you don't have to—"

     "Yes, I do!" Goldie insists.

SIMONE JACKSON (disco pioneer): I hadn't been in the music business for too long, but it was a pretty well-known fact that Goldie Rhodes was one of the truly kind people in it. As soon as she found out I had a deal with Ellemar Records, she instantly made sure I knew my way around. Goldie wanted to lift those up around her. It was like Mother Hen walked right in, you know? [Chuckles]

     "Anyway, I'm forgetting my manners. Simone, these are my bandmates — Hank, Francesca, Victoria, Carlo, and Doug."

They all mumble their hellos to her. "I just wanted to say that I loved 'Deep End', it gets straight through to the soul," Simone gushes.

"Oh, thanks!" Carlo beams; the effect ripples through the band, always pleased to hear firsthand when someone likes your music. Francesca finds it is one thing seeing statistics or hearing the song being played. But to see the look on people's faces, or hear it from their own lips... that is something special.

"You know, we're actually working on our third album soon," Hank throws out there.

"Soon-ish," Francesca interjects.

Simone looks around, seeming slightly preoccupied, then turns to Goldie. "You know, I– I came here with a friend tonight, and she told me she's a huge fan of yours, Goldie. Grew up listening to your records and everything. She's been following Solstice, too."

     Goldie tilts her head and smiles sweetly. "Really? Well, that's awful nice. Was that Bernie?"

     "Oh, no! I– I only just met Bernie..." Simone laughs breathlessly, an undertone of blush suddenly creeping into her cheeks. "No, my friend Daisy, she's... actually, I don't know where she went... oh, there she is. Hey, Daisy!"

Francesca can't see who Simone is calling to at first. But once the figure emerges from the masses, it's difficult to miss her. A fiery redhead is strutting towards them, platform boots clicking against the tiles. A big faux fur-lined coat covers the denim shorts and small tank top beneath it. She walks with a self-made confidence — or at least the conviction of it — that Francesca could only dream of.

"We were just talking about you. This is my friend, Daisy Jones."

"Hi," Daisy says, nonchalant but with a spark in her stunningly blue eyes.

HANK: I think Carlo's jaw dropped.

CARLO: Pfft, like Hank wasn't staring at her either! But I mean... I have eyes, don't I?

FRANCESCA: Some people just have a presence. Like, that 'it' factor. Daisy Jones has it in spades. Anyone would notice that immediately, I think, whether you like her or not.

Daisy doesn't wait to be introduced to the band. She knows who they are. Especially Goldie, who she turns to, still unbelievably cool about it all. "I have all your records," Daisy says simply. "Your voice... when I was a teenager, it made me think people might take me seriously one day. I still listen to 'Savannah' when I went something to sing along to."

It's intriguing; she's a fan, sure, but Daisy Jones is clearly not about to grovel. She speaks straight from the heart, no frills attached.

"Wow... thank you, Daisy, that means a lot," Goldie nods slowly, affected by the praise. "Do you make music yourself?"

"Someday, maybe."

"You joining the label with Simone?"

Daisy shrugs, almost defiantly. She's stubborn, this one.

Before the conversation can go further, Doug butts in and asks: "Ladies, I need a second opinion... do you like my hair?"

As Hank lets out a groan, Daisy and Simone blink at him in confusion, before the former starts bantering with him about his haircare routine, even recommending that he gets bangs like hers. Goldie and Francesca exchange a look and giggle through stifled lips. Then Goldie's expression changes, sensing something Francesca doesn't even realise she is feeling.

"Ches, you okay?" she asks, quieter and separate from the rest of the group.

"Oh, yeah..." Francesca trails off, then reconsiders. She might as well just admit it. "I was just thinking about the band."

Goldie frowns, understanding instantly that she means The Six. "I know. It's such a shame too, they were really takin' off... but maybe it's for the best?"

"Maybe. I just feel bad for them. Graham says they're gonna try looking for a new frontman."

"That won't be easy," Goldie hums, "there aren't many Billy Dunnes."

"That's what I told him. But he wants to look around, audition some guys. See if he can find someone at parties or something."

     "Maybe he should've come here tonight. The shining jewel of The Six could be hiding in plain sight..."

     Francesca and Goldie both look out into the crowds — the first face they fall upon happens to be Wyatt Stone's. His single, 'Stumbled On Sublime' was a major hit last year, lasting four weeks at the top of the Billboard Hot 100. He also has the misfortune of being inconceivably smug and self-important about his one-hit wonder. Francesca found his song mismatched to his voice anyway, but she met him once at the Rainbow Bar, and ten minutes of Wyatt Stone trying to flirt was enough to put her off.

     "Hey, where did Daisy go?"

     Simone's question points out the gaping hole in the group, where Daisy one stood. Francesca soon sees her stomping into her periphery and straight towards Wyatt Stone. Uh oh. He's lit up in chlorine blue by the poolside, chatting up some young groupies. Daisy seethes and rests her hands on her hips, waiting for him to turn around.

     "What's this about?" Francesca asks no one in particular.

     "No idea..." Victoria whispers, fixated on the scene as she takes a swig of beer.

     Wyatt finally turns and notices Daisy, smirking at her. He looks her up and down, makes some remark. She keeps staring him down as she delivers a comeback. He just shrugs it off, looking down on her. Daisy almost looks poised to storm off from him... then she stops. Seeing red, she bounds back to him. Two flat palms shove Wyatt's chest straight into the swimming pool — SPLASH! — and gasps abound from the partygoers.

Finally!! is Francesca's first thought.

It remains a mystery why Daisy did it. Even more fascinating, is when she puts her hand on her knees and leans forward, sweetly waiting for Wyatt's head to resurface. When he does, pathetic and drenched, she starts singing at the top of her lungs:

"She's all around your head
And she's dancing in the corners of your mind
Stumbled on sublime,
'till you can't speak..."

FRANCESCA: Turns out 'Stumbled On Sublime' was Daisy's song all along. Her lyrics and everything. Wyatt stole it from her while they were dating and passed it off as his own... hey, more power to her.

DAISY JONES (singer/songwriter): I mean sure, a normal person probably would've let that go...

[Daisy shrugs and smiles mischievously into the camera]

.•° ✿ °•.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

we're back (kinda)!! there are still many plot details in act two i haven't quite nailed down yet, but this chapter was shorter and pretty straightforward, so i thought i could at least get the ball rolling. if nothing else, we have FINALLY had an appearance from daisy jones, as well as simone jackson. this chapter was originally going to be longer, but daisy singing at wyatt like that was just too good of an ending...

i don't know when the next chapter will be out, because i'm still sorting some stuff out timeline-wise. but i will say there may be a new character on the radar 👀 keep your eyes peeled for that one. until then, thank you so much for reading — this story recently hit 10K reads which just blows my mind!

(P.S. can we also talk about the fact that monica barbaro is now — and forever will be — an oscar nominee?? so proud of her! now having seen ACU, she 100% earned that nomination. tbh she would be the winner in my heart, too)

Published: March 28th, 2025