Chapter 14
(Song)
“You’re gonna be awesome,” Zachy said, tugging him close so they could rub noses. “Just breathe, you’ve got this. Now go show New York how amazing you are.”
Sliding his arms around Zachy, Song kissed him until the swirling mass of thoughts in his head faded.
Zachy was right; it was gonna be amazing.
With Ajay handling the vocals and adding guitar solos, they had the potential to be a real powerhouse of a band.
Now all they had to do was go out there and show it.
Zachy held him while he just breathed and centered himself as their Daddy and Papa wrapped their arms around them too. Held safe in a protective bubble of their love and encouragement, Song knew that he was ready to do what he’d been born to do.
Play.
“Five minutes,” the stage manager called.
Zachy stepped back, kissed him one more time, and slipped his fingers through their Papa’s belt loop while Papa and Daddy kissed Song before heading out into the packed club, where seats were being held for them.
He spotted Ajay’s Daddy Walker release him from a hug, tap him on the tip of his nose, and follow them from the backstage area, leaving Song and the rest of the band to their final moments of preparation.
“They bring good energy,” Decon said as he blew out a long breath. “I kinda wish I could have gotten in on the hugging too.”
In response, Ajay and Song crushed him between them, soon joined by their remaining bandmates.
“Three minutes,” the stage manager called.
“Okay, Mark, your shoes are double-knotted tonight, right?” Decon asked.
“I swear to god I’m gonna tie you up somewhere and let people pay me to spank you if you ask me that one more time!” Mark growled, poofing up like a cartoon hen and looking extremely disgruntled.
“I think he’d like that too much,” Ajay muttered, making Song snort the water he’d just sipped out his nose and onto the shoes in question.
“Oh man, come on!” Mark groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face as they all dissolved into laughter.
“Too bad you didn’t aim for the laces; being wet makes it harder for them to come undone,” Decon pointed out, snickering.
“You just wait,” Mark said. “You’re gonna be the one to wind up wet, and when you least expect it too.”
All the laughter stopped, their gazes turning to Mark, who stood there looking utterly confused for about half a second before groaning as it dawned on him how they’d taken his threat.
“Hey, what you two get up to in the room you’re sharing is on you,” Song said, snickering as the stage manager’s voice rang out one last time.
“One minute.”
“Okay, all joking about sucking me off in my sleep aside, let’s go out there and slay,” Decon said with a smirk in Mark’s direction, right before he stuck his tongue out at him.
“Either keep that thing in your mouth or put it to good use!” Mark hissed, sounding awfully like when Daddy Gage said those exact words to Song and Zachy.
“You first,” Decon shot back as they headed out onto the stage, the lights low as they took their positions.
Whisps of conversation drifted across the stage as Song took up his sticks and tapped out the intro to the first song, then all the ambient noises ceased as Decon and Ajay started playing.
Those dueling electric guitars sent a shiver down Song’s back as he pounded out the heavy-hitting, hard-driving tempo of Bring the Rain.
Created after listening to a deluge of raindrops on a battered tin roof, the muffled roar of the beat was intense and all-encompassing.
There was nothing but the blended tones of each of them playing their instruments to the very best of their abilities, creating a bubble of sound around the stage that made it impossible for him to hear how the crowd was reacting to them.
He could see it, though, in the way the energy level of the crowd revved up like a surge, the motion a wave that erupted into a mosh pit on the floor.
Song could see Zachy front and center on the balcony with their Daddy, Papa, and Mr. Walker, Zachy's golden hair whipping back and forth to the beat of the music, rocking out in the old-school Drowning Pool t-shirt he’d worn tonight.
Daddy rocked out one of the many Shriveled Rose t-shirts he cherished, like the one he’d given Song to wear tonight.
Knowing that it had been worn onstage by the legendary Adrian Lee had made it that much more special when Daddy had put the t-shirt on him.
Even Papa had surprised them all when he’d broken out a Staind t-shirt and admitted to being such a huge fan of the band that he’d seen them more than a dozen times.
Having their love and support had come to mean everything to him.
With each beat of those drumsticks against the skins, he sought to convey just how much it meant to him to have them open their lives and their relationship to him, embrace him as the individual he was, and encourage him to follow the dream they knew meant the world to him.
When the conversation had come up about touring when they’d been out at the sculpture garden, Song had experienced a surge of fear that it would be the moment when one or more of them tried to tell him that pursuing music was an unrealistic pipe dream and questioned his commitment to the new and amazing relationship they had.
Instead, he’d received praise for the fact that he and Decon knew what their limits were regarding traveling and where they were at this point in their careers.
Even in private, there had been no attempts to sway him from thinking about it down the line; in fact, it hadn’t even been mentioned at all. He’d realized then that it was a non-issue for them. Something they’d wait for Song to bring up if or when there was ever a need.
Talk about freeing.
Never once in the time since he’d met them had he or Zachy been reprimanded for playing too loud or being too silly.
If anything, they were always encouraged to cut loose, the way Song was cutting loose on that stage right now, banging into the second song with furious intensity.
The wave of adrenaline he rode throughout that set was breathtaking at times, especially when they switched things up for the crowd and treated them to the three angsty ballads they’d finally been able to polish with Ajay on vocals.
He could feel the tears on his cheeks as he played, in response to Ajay’s delivery and the sight of Decon on his knees on one side of Ajay and Mark in the same position on the other side, their heads thrown back as they played, like they were worshipping the enigmatic singer with their instruments.
It was almost surreal, the chemistry they had with him, so very different from the contentious and oftentimes volatile and standoffish one they’d had with Carson.
The swagger Ajay brought was flirty and wild, with that teasing smirk of his as he seduced the crowd.
By the end of the set, all Song felt was triumph and love for his band brothers as they stood, bowed, and headed off the stage.
“One more song!”
Holy shit, was that Zachy?
“One more song!”
It was Zachy! But it wasn’t just Zachy. Song could hear his daddy’s voice along with several others chiming in.
“One more song!”
“One more song!”
Holy shit, it sounded like half the club was hollering for more music. Song felt goosebumps crop up along his arms as the chanting grew to a fever pitch.
“Get on back out there,” the stage manager said. “You’ve got time for two if you really want to give them a thrill.”
Didn’t have to tell them twice; Decon, who’d thrown an arm over Song’s shoulder, made a quick U-turn, and the rest of the band followed suit.
“Which two?” Song whispered in Decon’s ears as they went back up the steps onto the stage.
“Static Dreams and Monster’s Masquerade,” Decon said. “I’ll let Ajay know.”
“Dude, you’re about to make his night.”
“He’s earned it, don’t you think?”
“Hell yeah,” Song said as he headed for the drum kit.
Song watched as Decon leaned against Ajay, tugging Mark into what looked like a brief embrace as he whispered in their ears, Ajay’s face lighting up like it was already Christmas morning.
After all he’d done to make their dream of playing here in New York a reality and the way he’d stepped in and stepped up for them so they didn’t have to cancel, playing the songs he’d written and brought with him when he joined them was the least they could do to let him know just how much they appreciated him.
Like the main set, their encore was energetic, brazen, and a roller coaster ride of angst, rage, pain, and freedom.
Where Static Dreams was a dark, moody, haunting piece, Monster’s Masquerade was about a wild night of extremes and the darkness that lay beneath glittering facades.
They’d polished it the week before, and now they were hearing Ajay deliver it.
Goosebumps, man.
Goosebumps.
When they left that stage the second time, it was to thunderous applause once more, and not just from the people in the club.
The other bands greeted them with the same kind of energy, celebrating with them at what had to be the highest point in Song’s musical career.
While other musicians smacked them on the back and fist-bumped with them, Song spotted Ajay moving away, his face streaked with tears.
The moment Song touched his arm, Ajay turned and burrowed his face against Song’s chest, sobbing so hard that his tears soaked through Song’s already sweat-soaked t-shirt.
Wrapping his arms around Ajay, Song guided him off to the side, where they were soon joined by Decon, concerned etched on the guitarist's face.
“Did I fuck up?” Decon asked, but the only response was louder gasps and hiccups from Ajay. “Oh fuck, I fucked up, didn’t I? Oh shit. Ajay, I’m sorry, I didn’t think to ask if you were ready to…”
Ajay spun out of his grasp and crashed into Decon, nearly knocking the big man over in his haste to hug him.