Chapter Thirteen
Bowie
I wasn’t sure we were ready for this.
Okay, maybe the truth was closer to being that I wasn’t sure that I was ready for this, despite Pressley and Tony’s assurances.
I’d fidgeted my way through the morning and spent the afternoon feeling up my favorite guitar, blowing through six Keurig pods and two energy drinks before Tony cut me off and snitched to Pressley about how much caffeine I'd guzzled over the course of the day.
After that, they’d watched me like hawks, peering through the window at me out by the fountain in Pressley’s backyard, switching between my cart and vape in between occasionally scribbling in my notebook.
For three weeks I’d worn my hair tied back out of my eyes, but tonight, as we prepared to go out there on that stage for our first acoustic set, I pulled the tie out of my hair and used my fingers to comb it forward so it covered the worst of my scars.
Even Claude looked confused by my actions, shooting me the side-eye as we headed up on the stage, his drum kit waiting for him.
After working our asses off day and night, we had a solid six-song set that we could play without issue, provided Claude didn’t go rogue and improvise. At least stage fright wasn’t an issue with this crew. Not a single one of us was afraid of being in front of people.
It was my scars that I was about to have a panic attack about.
Why were the lights so bright?
Okay, realistically, they weren’t; the whole bar was dim, the kind of laid-back place I absolutely loved playing in, but tonight, I don’t know what it was, but I was twitchy as fuck and only got twitchier when I saw Stoli, Joey, Mickey, Shadow, and Diamond at the bar staring at us.
“If we don’t get them on the first song, we might be the ones facing a session with Shadow and Diamond,” Tony muttered as he gripped me by the hair and tugged my head forward until our foreheads bumped. “I don’t know about you, but I’m willing to do damn near anything to avoid that.”
“Then we’d better perform our asses off,” I muttered back before licking him on the cheek, making us both laugh, and Tibby too.
A glance over my shoulder showed that even Claude had a slight smile on his face, though it was tight and even a smidge concerned when he looked out at Diamond and Shadow. They’d actually managed to rattle him during their session together, so much so that he’d been mostly scowling ever since.
We launched into Mastodon’s Jaguar God, with me echoing Tony on parts of the chorus, then slid into Iron Maiden’s The Prophecy.
That intro guitar riff pulled something out of me that I hadn’t felt in ages.
Tony growled out those first words, and Tibby crafted the rhythm, while Claude nailed the beat.
It was a guitar-heavy song, and damned if I didn’t get lost in it when I hit the solo, headbanging in front of Claude, damn near challenging him to do what I’d thought I didn’t want him to do, only I did and he brought it, and we went off script together for about thirty seconds of pure fun and frantic playing, acoustic or not.
Tony poured his soul into the delivery, and then I got to shred again on the final guitar solo, taking us out of the song and then right into Pantera’s Cemetery Gates.
It was a song that let Tony not only shine but also show off the lessons he’d received from Joey on his delivery.
It clicked then that we were no longer in a practice session; we were live, and the room had gotten fuller since we’d started playing.
We slipped into this zone together, riding the vibe we’d found over the past few weeks and the excitement over the way our lives had changed so dramatically.
It was a small stage, but it worked for us in that it created an intimate setting where we could move around one another and interact like we were up there in front of ten thousand people.
Phones were pointed at us, and the occasional flash went off.
For a moment I wondered if they’d captured any of my scars showing, and I hesitated, skipping a few beats of the intro to the next song, in order to comb my hair back over the side of my face again.
I hoped it went unnoticed, as I didn’t miss a single thing once I dove into the song, but that moment was reflected in the rest of my performance, as I made sure not to face the crowd fully after that, choosing to interact with my bandmates instead.
If anything, that just helped push the electricity between us higher, as it seemed to bring out the best in Claude every time one of us interacted with him.
By the time we launched into the first of the two original songs we’d been working on together, there was this endless loop of energy coursing through us that bled right into the delivery. Even played acoustically, the songs had bite to them, especially with Tony’s snarling delivery.
I’m not proud to be walking on eggshells.
More of a demon than a flesh-and-blood man
I’m not proud to be damned and broken.
Playing the martyr instead of taking a stand
You’re a beast of burden.
Soul-sucking seduction
I should be angry.
But why waste the energy?
You’ll just slither along.
Dragging the husk of me
I let out a growl on one side of Tony, while Tibby howled on the other side of him, as Claude came crashing in behind us with a drumbeat to launch us into the second verse.
By the third verse I realized that while Tibby and I were rocking out together and headbanging over our guitars, the crowd was rocking out with us, banging to the beat Claude had created for the song.
The bang-crash, bang-bang-crash, was a heavy cadence, but not nearly as heavy as our final song. I struck those chords like I was trying to rip lightning from the sky and channel it through my guitar, the whole song a moody piece calling strikes down on everyone who’d ever hurt us.
Fuck you for always saying no to me
Fuck you for being my first bully
Fuck you for siding with my enemies
Fuck you for turning your back on me
Fuck you for never supporting me
Fuck you for never believing in me
Fuck you and your fake-ass authority
Fuck you for trying to control me
Fuck you for thinking you owned me
Fuck you for constantly mocking me
Fuck you for accidentally wrecking me
Fuck you for laughing at my pain
Fuck you for believing their lies
Fuck you, someday you’ll all fail too
Fuck you
Fuck you
Fuck you
You’re in Imminent Danger now
Yes, we’d written an anthem for ourselves, and yeah, we’d pretty much let it boil down to our favorite four-letter word. But those people in the bar, they were vibing it, and I actually saw Shadow’s eyes grow wide as the crowd around the bar began singing along to every Fuck and Fuck you!
We’d captured the crowd with that song, and they screamed for us to come back when we finished it, bowed, and headed for the back.
One more song!
One more song!
One more song!
Holy shit, it sounded like they were banging on the bar and the tables.
“We could do Nothing Else Matters and Spit It Out,” Tibby suggested. “We’ve got those down cold.”
“Throw in Freak on a Leash,” Tony said. “I know we can crush that one.”
“Whatever you’re gonna do you better do it now before those folks out there do damage to the place, which is packed, by the way, thanks to a live stream and a thunderstorm,” Wolf said. “You’ve got a captive audience out there, so get your asses in gear and give them everything you’ve got.”
Our stage manager had spoken, which was the only encouragement we needed to get our asses back out there and keep the roof from ever landing, now that we’d blown it off the place. There were more phones pointed our way when we went back out there, and damn, did Pressley look pleased.
The moment I spotted the proud, excited look on his face, I remembered the kisses we’d shared and the way I’d wanted more and been too scared of rushing it.
For almost an entire song, I played while staring at him, or trying to, since he’d only hold my gaze and then look away.
Unlike the man in the corner of the bar, several seats away from where Pressley sat.
I felt like I knew him, only I couldn’t recall where I’d seen his face before.
He hadn’t taken his eyes off me, and damn, his stare was intense.
Older than most of the guys sitting around the bar by a good ten years, he gave off this vibe like he was searching for something in the music… or in me.
Now I was the one who couldn’t look away as we played the second song.
Motion.
Memories.
There were flashes in my head of the sky spinning before the world shattered.
Holy shit.
Spinning away, I stalked over to Claude, my playing growing a bit aggressive.
I don’t know what the fuck he saw on my face, but it was enough to get him to match my energy, which tripped Tony headlong into full-on swaggering mode.
With Tibby and I joining him on the harmony of Freak on a Leash, we snarled out the song with a sort of messy desperation that sent the crowd, especially those in the front row trying to reach up and touch one of us, into a frenzy as they joined in too.
For a moment, it reminded me of jam sessions on the beach with my old band and our high school friends, sunsets and seagulls, and countless bottles of Seagram’s and sour puckers being passed around.
I played to mourn the guy I was and celebrate the man I was becoming.
Somewhere in all that playing, I realized that the guy who’d been hurled through the glass had believed that he deserved moments like this, while the man I was now understood how rare it was to earn them.