Date: Wed, 02 Feb 2005 00:29:09 -0800 From: Teh Genius <stories@tehgenius.com> Subject: Another Rainy Monday Chapter 7 Legal Note From The Sarcasm Department Do not read this story if: You are not over 18 years old (or the legal age where you live). Reading this story will land you in jail (unless you're into that type of thing). You don't want to read about men touching other men in somewhat inappropriate places. You are prone to masturbatory spraining. This story is completely fictional. It is not meant to represent or reproduce any person or situation. If this seems to mirror your life in any way, you're a lucky bastard. Enjoy! Breathe, Stretch, Shake ======================= Idle hands may be the devil's playthings, but an idle mind is a breeding ground for panic. We'd finished all of the setup for the night's gig, but we weren't scheduled to go on for another half hour, so Kelly decided to lead us in a group meditation. Kelly was a sweet girl and all, but something told me that she hadn't really been paying attention to the instructor during her classes. I couldn't be a hundred percent sure, but twirling hair around one's finger and snapping gum didn't strike me as the best path to spiritual enlightenment and inner peace. As Kelly continued "instructing" the group, I just closed my eyes and tried to get a handle on the butterflies in my stomach. We'd rehearsed the new song a million times, and everyone had their parts down, but I couldn't help the feeling that something was missing. It had been a long time since the band had debuted a song live, and I had fully convinced myself that the crowd would be booing within the first 3 notes. Pre-gig jitters were nothing new to me, but it felt like the butterflies had evolved into pterodactyls, fighting and swooping through my insides nonstop. Finally tired of Kelly's mutterings, I stood up and took a few deep breaths. I grabbed my guitar, hopped up on top of one of the big speakers and silently practiced the new song. There I sat, eyes closed and fingers strumming gently, until I felt a fingertip tapping on my forehead. "What the fuck was that for?" "Just checking to make sure everything was chill... you're more freaked out than usual, and I can't figure out why." "Beans, I'm fine. It's just really weird to be doing this song tonight, you know?" "Erik... he's gone. Just because he was an asshole doesn't mean that the song isn't good, you freak!" "Yeah, yeah, yeah... I hear you. How much time do we have?" "About 10 minutes... time for you to get ready." "Cool... thanks, B." Beans wandered away, looking for his bass. His real name was Archibald, but people had been calling him "Beans" since he was a little kid and he refused to explain why. Ah well... to each his own, I guess. On the other side of the curtain, I could hear the crowd getting rowdy. The Stone was home to a strangely diverse group of regulars, from bikers to businessmen, and everyone seemed to get along OK. I peeked out through the curtain to see what kind of crowd was in the house tonight. "Oh shit..." My breath became slightly less even. It was bad enough that we were doing a new song, but Terryn walking through the door just made me feel even more nervous. I'd hoped that he wouldn't come until Thursday so that I could get the jitters out of my system, swoop in like the dashing rock star that I always wanted to be and dazzle him with my musical talents. Oh, the life I lived in fantasy... I swiped the curtain closed and grabbed my guitar again as we took our places. Luckily for me, my stool was in the back, so I hoped that I could stay out of sight until he left. Just as the curtains were about to part, Kelly leaned over and reminded me that it was my turn on the mic tonight. "Oh shit..." indeed. As was custom, as soon as the curtains opened we launched into our new song. My earlier worrying was all for naught and everyone sounded great together. The new song was an attempt to break away from our old style and branch off into a new direction, a vain attempt to try to recapture our indie roots. It's easy to capitalize on previous successes, but it's really tough to write something new and fresh without alienating the fans. Hearing us all come together, I felt really proud of the song. Knowing that I had written a song that resonated so well with the screaming audience helped nullify some of the tension in my gut and kick started my fingers. In the middle of the song, I happened to glance up to see Terryn sitting at the bar. The temporary euphoria that I felt from the crowd dissipated as I saw a tall, handsome guy handing Terryn a drink. From the looks of things, that guy had to be the mythical Jeff monster, destroyer of dreams and eater of hope. I frowned and stared at my guitar to avoid looking at the two of them together. The only constant that I could focus on was my music. No one in the audience knew that this was my music... that tidbit I kept to myself. Never one for publicity, I had no problems letting people enjoy my work while hiding in relative obscurity. Regardless, escaping into my song helped me calm down a bit. Time seemed to slow down while we were playing, and I let myself take in each and every note. Darryl's percussion slid next to Kelly's bass notes, then frolicked with Devin on the keyboard. Beans' secondary bass line set the rhythm for my guitar, but as the song reached its conclusion I raced ahead of it. By far one of the most technically complex sections that I'd ever written, the finale of the song took all of my concentration to pull off. I usually shied away from showboating, but it had been a while since I had really pushed myself to play something interesting. Once the song had ended, my calm borne of concentration gave way to nervousness. I set my guitar down, wiped my palms on my jeans and took the main mic from Rich. I waited for the applause to die down, but couldn't keep from smiling as the crowd started chanting. "Hey! Calm down so we can keep this show going!" That proclamation only brought out yet another round of applause and catcalls, and I did a silly little dance to get everyone's attention. Once the crowd had finally calmed down a bit, I lifted the mic again. "That was our new song, 'Telling The Morning', and you can grab the MP3 off of our website to enjoy at your leisure. As always, I want to thank each and every one of you for coming out tonight and for continuing to support our music." I pointed at a few of our more fervent supporters. "I see that our normal ragtag bunch of groupies is out in force tonight... great to see you guys as always!" Crowded near the stage, a small group of or insanely die hard fans jumped up and down wearing matching Davey's Goliath T-shirts. Smack dab in the middle was none other than my mom, looking vaguely out of place but smiling and clapping along nonetheless. With my rock star persona out in full force, I decided to take a small gamble. I looked right at Terryn before continuing my speech. "I see we also have some new fans in the house... hopefully you'll stick around for a long, long time!" Terryn kept glancing around at everything in the room but me, and I tried not to let the disappointment show on my face as I prepped the crowd for our next song. "Alright oh faithful fans! Here's an oldie but goodie for you..." I stuck the mic back into its stand and grabbed my guitar. As the night continued to wind on, we played a few more songs and took some requests from the audience. Near the end of our set, I glanced over and saw Terryn getting up to leave. I quickly turned and motioned for Darryl's attention. I pointed at my watch and then at my chest, and Darryl's face lit up as he nodded enthusiastically. I grabbed the mic once more. "Well, ladies and gentlemen... it looks like you're going to hear one more song that we've been working on..." Fractured Consciousness ======================= Once "Tell The Morning" had finished, I turned back to the bar to grab the drinks that I had bought for the girls. I frowned as I saw all three drinks still sitting on the bar. Somewhat confused, I glanced around the bar. As I turned to look for the source of the drinks, my elbow bumped into a strange guy grinning wolfishly at me. Though he fit the technical description of handsome, I was stunned at the overwhelming cloud of Drakkar Noir that seemed to be assaulting my nostrils. Hoping that he wouldn't mistake my disinterest as rudeness, I nodded my thanks as he opened his mouth to speak, snatched the drinks off of the bar and made a beeline for our table. The girls came back grinning like loons and pretending that they hadn't worked up a sweat. I sipped at my unintended second drink of the evening as the girls decided to make out right at the table for sheer shock value. "Seeing as they're obviously occupied, would you care to dance with me?" The smell of my least favorite cologne in the world returned at the same time the gravelly voice snaked its way into my ear. Standing far too close for my tastes was the guy from the bar, the wolf-like grin still plastered on his face. Roguish though it was, the smile didn't quite reach his eyes, and I felt like he was sizing me up to be his dinner. I shivered a little bit and tried to get rid of him as quickly as possible. "Thanks, but I'm actually on my way out." "Oh come on... I bought you a drink, the least you could do is dance with me for a little while. It'll be fun!" "No, really... thanks for the drink, but I'm not in the mood for dancing." His smile faltered a little bit. He didn't strike me as a guy who was used to having his all-too-slick lines rejected. He leaned forward and whispered in my ear. "C'mon... one dance. You're incredibly hot, and I'd really like to get to know you better... if you catch my drift." It took all of my self control, but I managed to keep a straight face as I leaned back to whisper in his ear. "Keep your drift in your pants where it belongs... with a lame line like that, I wouldn't fuck you if my life depended on it!" His face quickly took on a scowl that matched mine in its intensity. I turned back around just in time to see the girls glaring over my shoulders at him. "Fucking cock tease... what a waste!" He stalked off and the girls started to laugh. I laughed with them, and felt a warm flush rise in my cheeks. As I kept laughing, I could hear my heart beating in my ears and started to feel a bit warm. The girls tried to convince me to hit the dance floor with them, but I decided to stay and be the stalwart protector of our poor, helpless drinks. That didn't last long. The band continued to play on, and I began to feel claustrophobic. It felt like the temperature was rising in the room and everything was pressing in on me. When I tried to stand to get some fresh air, my knees felt a little bit wobbly and my stomach felt like it was doing somersaults. I stood where I was with my eyes closed for a few moments, and the feeling passed. I glanced around to find an exit, and the sudden motion of my head felt like it had been magnified ten times. I took a few shallow breaths and groped at my pockets. Cigarette... I needed a cigarette... yeah... that's what I needed. The sounds of the club had become muffled, pulsing in and out of my ears like a wave. I had to get out of there. I had to get away. I slowly and resolutely walked toward the patio door, and when I reached the door I heard his voice. I hadn't caught what Erik was saying, but I turned around to hear more as he began to play his guitar. "The boy is gone..." Beauty, given form. "The boy's gone home..." It was him. "The boy is gone..." I missed him. "The boy has gone home..." So lovely... "What will happen to the face in the crowd when it finally gets too crowded?" What indeed... "And what will happen to the origins of sound after all the sounds have sounded?" Please don't let this sound end... "Well I hope I never have to see that day..." This voice is like a hug... "But by God I know it's headed our way..." No... "So I better be happy now that the boy's gone home..." Don't leave... "The boy's gone home..." Please don't leave... I slumped against the doorframe as he continued to sing. Each word tore at my heart, the timbre of his voice and the beautiful words blending together in spoken melancholy. Tears started to form in my eyes, and as I looked at Erik through the tears he appeared to shimmer on stage. Everyone else in the club had grown silent, and the song poured over the whole room like a wave. Finally, Erik's voice trailed off at the end of the song and the room exploded into sound again. The intense sound brought with it my earlier feeling of claustrophobia and I walked quickly out onto the deserted patio. Once outside, I took in great gulping breaths of the fresh, chilly air. I leaned my forehead up against a large wooden beam and tried to calm myself down. It had started to rain gently while I was inside, and the sound of the water pattering against the thin metal roof was incredibly relaxing. I dug into my pocket, pulled out a cigarette and stuck it in my mouth. The task of aligning the tip of the cigarette with the flame of my lighter proved to be much more difficult than I had expected, and I was tempted to just give up. "Need some help with that?" Unasked Questions ================= My palms felt like they were dripping with sweat as I put the mic down. The room had fallen into a hushed silence, and my initial panicked thought was that I had just done something horrible to the band by daring to sing. My fear was quickly brushed aside as I glanced at my mom, who had a grin that stretched from ear to ear. I took a small theatrical bow and the silence abruptly ended. While the club went crazy, I watched Terryn disappear through the patio door and into the night. Our set was over, and the house DJ started to play some music as we cleaned up our gear. Everyone in the band was clapping me on the back and giving me the thumbs up, so apparently they had enjoyed it too. I still wasn't sure that I really felt comfortable as a singer, but that moment made me hope that one day I'd be able to sing something that I wrote instead of just doing a cover. My mom gave me a quick hug as I walked past her, and several of our "groupies" were eagerly discussing this shocking new turn of events. I made my way out onto the patio, and saw Terryn standing alone in the middle of the concrete space. It looked like he was struggling with a failing lighter, so I pulled mine out of my pocket and offered him a light. "Need some help with that?" Terryn looked briefly shocked and then closed his eyes. Slightly mystified, I touched the flame to the tip of his cigarette and fished around for my own as he inhaled deeply. I wasn't really sure what to say to him, so I just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Thanks for coming tonight... I didn't think you were going to actually come. Actually, I really didn't know that you were coming tonight... figured it would be Thursday if anything..." Terryn leaned his head back against a wooden post and mumbled almost inaudibly. "I didn't think I was coming tonight, either..." "Well you did. Did you like the new song?" "Yeah, it was nice..." "Cool. Ummm... did Jeff like the song?" I wasn't sure if I was overstepping my bounds, but I couldn't help myself. Terryn just stared at me blankly. "Huh? I don't get it." Unsure as to how to respond to that statement, I decided to just move on and not push my luck. I hopped up onto the makeshift bar that was behind me and watched Terryn smoke. Terryn refused to make eye contact, and spent most of his time staring at the tip of his cigarette. As it burned down to the filter, he started mumbling to himself. It was as if I wasn't even there. Noticing that Terryn wasn't dropping the smoldering filter, I jumped off of the bench and walked over to him. As I got closer, I started to make out some of what he was saying. "...so cute... too bad he's not gay... sucks..." The filter finally fell from his grasp, and I stepped in closer to look at Terryn's face. I hadn't noticed before the film of tears in his eyes, which just made me more confused than before. He couldn't be talking about me, could he? Throwing caution to the winds, my voice felt thick as I again blurted the first thing that popped into my mind. "What if he was gay?" Terryn's shoulders slumped even further, but his voice became slightly clearer. "He's not gay... you- he's married. Married guys are trouble." I never thought it was actually possible, but at that moment I experienced a movie-style flashback of the day before. It only took a second for me to realize what was going on. "That's not my wife, Terryn." I took a deep breath, and tried to figure out how best to explain what had happened. "Tess is my sister-in-law. She married my brother, and Angie is their daughter." "There's two of you?" Terryn looked utterly flabbergasted for a moment. I couldn't help but laugh at the whole situation. "Yup... if my hair was a little shorter he could be having this conversation with you and you'd probably have no idea. Angie calls me daddy because I look just like him, and he had to leave when she was really little. Joss is in the military, and has been in Iraq for nearly a year. I can't be there all of the time, but Tess likes to bring Angie around to help keep her from missing her real dad too much." Terryn visibly struggled to regain his composure, and looked up at me with unfocused eyes. "No... I mean, there are two of you right now." Terryn pointed vaguely off to the right of my head and started to slowly slide down the wall. ================ Author's Note #7 ================ Rumors of my story's death have been greatly exaggerated. What started out as a week of crunch time has turned into a month and a half long overtime nightmare, which doesn't really leave much time for writing. Hopefully things will be wrapped up soon so that the handful of you who sent emails about the story will no longer have to worry! :D For those who haven't heard it, the song that Erik sings is "The Boy Is Gone", which can be found on "Waiting For My Rocket To Come" by Jason Mraz. If you haven't heard it, I suggest a listen. Of course, all song copyrights are held by Mr. Mraz and his record label. This story is dedicated to the perfect man in an imperfect situation... here's to hoping that the future brings us better tidings. You are missed... Copyright 2005 by TehGenius. Comments and constructive criticism welcome at stories@tehgenius.com.