Chapter 19
NINETEEN
Eric
? Kickstart My Heart - Motley Crüe ?
The venue was buzzing. Josh said the crowd was a mix of familiar faces—local fans, people from the scene—and some unfamiliar ones who had come to check out the hype around his move from drums to vocals.
Velvet Shadows had been building up steam for a few months, and tonight was the night we were going to see if we could deliver on the promise.
Even though this was my first live show with the guys, there was a chemistry between us that I had never experienced before.
The way the four of us locked in together, the way we fed off each other—it was magic.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was going to be something special, but the nerves were there, following me like a shadow.
I looked out from the side of the stage, watching Josh, Max, and Kevin warm up. Josh was pacing back and forth, adjusting the mic stand, his voice low as he spoke to Max. I could tell by the way he moved that he was getting himself into the right headspace.
Max was working out a few last-minute riffs, his guitar strapped low, fingers moving effortlessly over the fretboard. Kevin was doing his usual thing—quiet, focused, sitting at the back of the stage with his bass, looking like he was analyzing every detail, waiting for the curtain to fall.
There was a pit in my stomach, but I felt ready. I was a mix of nerves and excitement that I couldn’t quite explain.
“Eric!” Josh’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. He was looking at me from across the stage, a grin on his face. “You good, man?”
I gave him a thumbs-up. “Yeah, just thinking about the set.”
“You’ll do fine,” Josh said, his voice reassuring but also brimming with excitement. “You’ve got this.”
I nodded, trying to calm my racing heart. He was right. The last few weeks of rehearsals had been great. We had honed the setlist and spent a lot of time just hanging out and getting to know each other.
The crowd wasn’t here to see perfection. They were here for the energy, the vibe, the feeling that only live music can give you. That was all I had to remember.
I pulled my sticks out of my bag, tapping them together in my hands to warm up.
My palms were already starting to sweat, and I hadn’t even sat behind the kit yet.
The rhythmic thumping of my sticks against my palms grounded me a little, bringing me back to the present.
I closed my eyes for a second, letting the noise of the venue fade into the background, focusing on my breath.
“Five minutes!” the sound tech shouted as my heart skipped a beat.
I walked over to my drum kit, which had been set up just to the side of the stage.
The familiar sight of it, all the pieces in place, gave me a small sense of comfort.
I took a seat on the throne, adjusting my sticks in my hands.
The bass drum pedal felt tight under my foot, and I had to fight the urge to start playing right then and there.
Josh stepped up to the mic as the curtain fell.
The crowd cheered, and I could hear a few shout-outs from the front row.
I had no idea who they were, but I could feel their contagious energy seep into my bones.
Max strummed his guitar, a few jarring notes ringing out, and Kevin adjusted the strap on his bass.
The crowd quieted in anticipation, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
The lights dimmed, and the spotlight hit Josh.
He gave a quick nod to Max, who gave the first few power chords of “Legends”, our opening track.
It was fast and punchy, a perfect way to get the crowd moving.
I felt my foot hover over the pedal on the kick drum, ready to let loose and set the foundation for the song.
The bass from Kevin kicked in next, a deep, rumbling presence that sent vibrations through the floor. Then it finally was my turn.
I slammed my sticks into the snare, letting out a solid crack that echoed through the room.
My foot followed, the thud of the bass drum deep and steady.
The energy in the room shifted as Josh’s voice came in, commanding the attention of everyone in the room.
Max was shredding on his guitar, each note sharp and clear, while Kevin’s bass rolled underneath, creating that thick, solid layer that kept everything together.
I didn’t have time to think about the nerves as I lost myself in the music.
My hands and feet moved on their own as it flowed through me.
I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins, my heart pounding in time with the beat.
The crowd was starting to move, heads bobbing and fists pumping in the air, and I reveled in it.
The first few minutes passed in a blur. I lost myself in the music, feeling the pulse of the drums beneath me, the roar of the crowd building with every hit.
I glanced over at Josh, who was singing with everything he had, eyes closed, lost in the words.
Max was a blur of energy, his guitar riffing with such ferocity that it almost seemed to take on a life of its own.
Kevin kept his cool, his bass our anchor.
The song shifted into the bridge, and I knew it was time to pull back a bit.
I eased up on the cymbals, letting the sound fill in the gaps where the guitar and bass needed room to breathe.
I held back on the kick drum, letting the snare work with the toms to add texture.
This was the moment I had been practicing for—where subtlety mattered as much as power.
Josh’s voice rose again, soaring through the room as Max picked up the pace, and I felt the entire room hold its breath, waiting for the drop.
When it came, I hit the crash cymbal hard, the sound reverberating through the space, and we were back to full throttle.
The crowd went wild, and I couldn’t help but grin.
This was it. This was why I played music. It brought people together. Every single person in this room was going through something, and every single one of them came out tonight to forget about it all. To throw their hands up and let go.
The song ended with a final blast of sound, and for a moment, there was nothing but the ringing in my ears. The crowd erupted into applause, and I let out a breath. My hands were already slick with sweat, but the energy from the crowd kept me going.
“Hell yeah!” Josh shouted into the mic, his voice loud with excitement. “You all ready to keep this thing going?”
The crowd cheered again, and we jumped straight into the next song. This one was a slower burn, more atmospheric, and it gave me a chance to show a different side of Velvet Shadows.
I found that groove easily—something smooth, like the music was floating on air.
We worked through the intro, and I let the toms speak first, building up the tension as Max’s guitar swirled around me.
Kevin’s bass slid in like heavy fog, and Josh’s voice came in low and haunting, and the crowd was mesmerized—hanging on his every word.
We played through the rest of the set with precision, each song flowing flawlessly into the next, the crowd bringing the energy from start to finish. As the final song approached, I could feel the exhaustion creeping in. My arms were sore and my legs were heavy, but I pushed through.
We finished with “Wicked,” our most energetic track, and my favorite so far, and the room exploded.
The crowd was jumping, fists in the air, and I let myself go, pushing through the soreness in my limbs, letting the music carry me.
By the time we hit the final chord, everything had come together.
We ended with a burst of sound, the cymbals crashing as Josh held the mic stand high in the air, a triumphant grin on his face.
The crowd went wild, and I sat there, breathing heavily, letting the applause wash over me.
As the lights came up, I could feel the sweat dripping down my back, my heart still racing. It was over. Velvet Shadows had played their first live show with Josh as the new frontman, and it had been an obvious success.
Josh stepped up to the mic. “Thank you!” he shouted, his voice filled with gratitude. “You’ve been amazing. Thank you so much for coming out. We are Velvet Shadows, and we’ll see you next time!”
The crowd cheered, and as we walked off the stage, I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. The adrenaline was still surging through me, but there was something else too—a deep sense of belonging. Like I was home.
“Alright,” Josh said, a devious grin growing across his lips as he threw an arm across my shoulders. “Now the fun begins.”
****
Josh suggested we head to a bar across town to let the adrenaline of the show run its course, and who I was I to say no to a Saturday night out in the city?
I could hear the clinking of glasses and the low hum of conversation as I made my way to the bar while the rest of the guys split off to chat with some people they knew in the back.
It wasn’t a big place, but it was packed. The lights above the bar flickered a little as I leaned onto the bar top to flag down the bartender, ordering a whiskey neat when he approached.
"Great show tonight," a voice said from beside me. I turned, surprised. I assumed if someone was going to approach us after a show, it’d be to talk to Josh or Max. I turned to see a beautiful woman in her mid-twenties standing a few feet away, a shy smile on her face. She had long brown hair and was wearing a distressed denim jacket and black tank top and leggings. She wasn’t overly tall, but her presence was enough to make me take notice.
“Lena,” she said, extending a hand.
“Eric,” I said, taking her hand in mine.
“Would you like to…” she trailed off, nodding to the empty bar stools beside us. I nodded my head, and she smiled before sliding into one of the stools. I sat down next to her as her deep green eyes locked with mine.
“Can I get you a drink?” I asked.
“Vodka soda would be great, thanks.”
I flagged the bartender down and ordered her drink before turning my attention back to her, unsuccessfully fighting off a grin when I saw her eyes had been locked on me the entire time.
“So, you were at the show?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’ve seen Velvet Shadows play a few times, but god damn, you guys are on another level now with Josh as the vocalist.”
I smiled and took another sip of my whiskey as the bartender set her glass of vodka soda in front of her.
We made small talk, and she did nothing to hide the fact that she was interested in taking this elsewhere by touching me any chance she got, but I stalled by keeping the conversation going as long as possible, unsure if I was ready for this—inviting a stranger back to my apartment.
Maybe she’d invite me back to her place?
Or would we hook up in the back of her car in the parking lot?
I was so unsure how all of this worked, and I felt incredibly unprepared.
I never imagined my first show with the guys would end like this.
My leg bounced nervously as the minutes ticked by, and the adrenaline rush from the show morphed into a completely different sort of nervous energy.
I glanced around the bar to see the guys sitting at a booth in the back, miming cheering gestures and egging me on. I stifled a laugh as I turned my attention back to Lena, weighing the options in my head as I half listened to her tell me about what she did for a living.
Pros: She was beautiful. Funny. Charming. Clothes clinging to an incredible body full of curves I’d love to explore very, very slowly.
Cons: She was a complete stranger. She could be a psychopath. Like a stalker or a serial killer or something.
Yeah, I definitely don’t want her knowing where I live.
She finished her drink and set it back onto the bar.
“I swear to god I don’t normally do this,” she said, looking back into my eyes. I swallowed as she gently touched my arm. Oh shit. Here it comes. “But would you like to come back to my place?”
“I don’t kiss and tell,” I say, watching Ty shift uncomfortably in her seat across from me. “So, I’ll spare you the details.”
“But you hooked up with her?” she asks, eyes flicking to me for a second before she looks back down at her notes.
“Does it matter?”
“It’s your story, so I guess that’s for you to decide,” she says, and I make her sweat for a bit before I give my reply, pretending to think it over.
“Then no, it doesn’t matter.” She looks up at me, and even though I know her well enough to know she’s trying not to care, I can see in her eyes how hearing about women I’ve been with in the past affects her, and I can’t blame her.
If I had to sit here and listen to her talk about the men she’s been with, I’d want to carry her back to that bedroom, lock us inside, and worship that incredible body over and over again until the only one she remembered being with was me.
She looks back to her notes, and I want to tell her that while, yes, I’ve had my fair share of hookups, the only person I’ve even thought about being with in the last five years is her.
But I force myself to keep quiet. I know by now that she won’t believe anything I say, especially when it comes to how I feel about her, so I let the moment pass.
“Do you want me to change her name?” she asks, tapping her pen on the paper. “You know, to protect the innocent.”
“No need,” I say, winking.
She doesn’t need to know that we never went to a bar after that show and that I went home alone.
That it wasn’t until nearly a year later that I finally found the nerve to hook up with a stranger.
That the only reason I told her that story was to see how she would react.
To finally know how she feels about me. She tries so hard to hide it, but the subtle tells are there.
And now I know. All I have to do is bide my time and wait this contract out.
One hundred and fifty-seven more days.
But who’s counting?