No Holding Back

by Dresden, Amanda

  Wade weakly responded in kind with a fist of his own, but as soon as he went off stage, he rolled his eyes and palmed his face. While it appeared that the guy had some innate grasp of the drums, Wade knew he wouldn’t be the right fit for the group. He appeared to have little more talent than a high school band teacher.

  He looked over at his brother who sat next to him, also on the verge of exhaustion.

  “Os!” Wade barked.

  His brother jumped in mild alarm at Wade’s voice and the clipboard that he’d been holding all this time fell to the floor noisily.

  “Huh? Wha?” he asked, yawning and scratching his bald head.

  “Cross him off the list. He’s no good.”

  Os blinked heavily a few times and forced himself to make the note next to the guys’ name. He gave up days ago trying to argue with his brother about which ones were better than what Wade made them out to be, but his younger kid brother turned down every one of them.

  “What time is it?” Wade asked.

  Os strained his eyes at his phone.

  “Fuck me, man. It’s two a.m.,” Os answered, scribbling on his board.

  Wade looked out the corner of his eye at the list of people who had come and gone over the past week, but he didn’t need to. He already knew that they had less than a handful of drummers that were hardly worth a damn. A feeling of utter despair swept over him, his heart sank, and a knotted feeling came into this stomach. And it was then that he began to seriously doubt if they’d find someone in time, but more importantly, someone as good as Hess. In fact, he was beginning to believe it was downright impossible.

  Wade looked back two rows behind him and found Joe nodding off again – his head bobbing up and down in short spurts of sleep. Wade couldn’t blame him though, not when he felt the same way.

  “Man, you sure this is good idea?” Os started, but Wade was in no mood for it. “I mean, this looks seriously fucked up, y’know? Whoring ourselves out like this?”

  “I already told you, Os-.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. But are you sure you called everyone? What about Black Blood? Don’t they have any leads?”

  “They only decent drummer they knew they hooked up with someone else,” Wade said, staring blankly at the empty stage.

  The entire place was roach dive and reeked of dust and mildew but Wade knew it was the best that Mike could do on such short notice. So he didn’t say a word even as the ugly yellow glow of the flickering stage lights made him want to gag. But the best part was, it was on the edge of the city, far away from the prying eyes of news crews.

  “What about EOP?" Os went on desperately. "Strife? Dark Water for fuck’s sake, man!”

  “No. No. And do you really think I’d ask someone who’d no sooner piss on us than help us out? Jesus, Os!” Wade snatched the board from Os making his older brother jump in surprise. “Look, I’m only showin’ one more guy on this list tonight then we can get the hell outta here. We’ll just have to keep lookin’.”

  But Wade’s heart sunk even lower at hearing his own words. He knew that if he couldn’t find a drummer worthy of taking Hess’ place in Heretic soon, any future they had in the music industry would be gone forever.

  “BRING ‘EM IN!” Wade hollered into the empty auditorium. But not even his volume caused Joe to stir in his seat.

  Soon, the double-doors opened revealing Mike talking on the phone while he pushed in Heretic’s next victim. Wade waved at him just before the doors closed but his agent ignored him completely. He knew Mike was hard at work putting out all of the media fires he created.

  As Wade studied their next prospect, he remarked that he looked like a homeless bum but mostly the same as the hundred or so wanabees that Wade had already been subjected to.

  But then, Wade’s gut gave him an odd feeling as he watched the guy stride confidently across the stage. He strained his eyes to see the face he kept hidden too well beneath a stained hoodie.

  Wade’s intuition became sensitive at once as he studied him, but on the surface, he looked no different than a punk kid. Right away, he doubted his gut as Mike had done in the past and tried to pull it off as stress. But the kid hardly noticed Wade’s studying gaze – still too perturbed that he was so rudely pushed by a stranger. But when he approached the drum set, he reached for the sticks on the seat and sat down, waiting for his queue to go.

  Wade rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and battled the urge to tell the guy to come back tomorrow, but he dismissed it. Instead, he’d give his gut one more shot before throwing in the towel for the night.

  “Alright, man. Listen up. We’re tired. We’re hungry. And we’ve been listening to retards for the past several days whom I’m amazed can even wipe their ass,” Wade said.

  Wade fell back into his chair again and didn’t bother hiding his long, drawn-out sigh while Os snickered at his commentary.

  “You have five minutes to impress the hell outta me,” he said ominously.

  Despite Wade’s ultimatum, Heretic’s next prospect appeared undaunted and even shook his arms and hands a few times to loosen himself up. As he held his sticks over the toms preparing to go, Wade yelled out one last time.

  “Oh and hey, man! Don’t hold anything back!”

  Despite the fact that Wade couldn’t see his face very well, he could still make out what he thought was a small grin from beneath his hoodie.

  Remarkably, Wade watched as he twirled his drumsticks professionally in the air several times before they came crashing down on the cymbals and toms.

  The sudden noise roused Joe into waking and after a few minutes, it became apparent that he was clearly a professional. Wade even laughed through his nose and shook his head ever so slightly at his skill at playing one of their own songs - Psychotic Episode. In fact, it wouldn’t have surprised Wade one bit if he had told them that he’d been to every one of Heretic’s concerts.

  Becoming more awake with each passing moment, Joe got up from his seat and joined Os and Wade closer to the front. Soon, the guy finished the drum solo on notes Wade was sure he’d miss, but he didn’t. Then, he crashed down one last time on the cymbal signaling the end of the song and looked up at the rest of Heretic. Wade saw his chest puffing slightly from the exercise when the last echoing note died off, the auditorium became eerily quiet.

  Wade continued to sit stone-cold in his seat while Os and Joe stared at each other, both unwilling to believe the masterpiece they had just heard.

  Although Wade was impressed with such obvious talent, he wanted to push him further, to see what he was truly capable of and to finally quiet the alarm bells going off in his gut.

  “Not bad,” Wade said, breaking the silence. “So, can you play any of our songs? Off any album?”

  “Pick one," he cussed back.

  Unable to stop the smile that crept into the side of his mouth, Wade hoped that his next choice would not only prove if he found Heretic’s next drummer, but also if they could easily pick up where they left off.

  “Fine. Then I’m sure you won’t have a problem playing Live Dead for us.”

  Instantly, Os interrupted, trying to hide his disagreement behind harsh whispers.

  “Dude! What the fuck’er you doin’?! Hess was a fuckin’ genius and it still took him year to get that shit! There’s no way some guy’s gonna walk in here and blow it away!”

  But Wade was hardly interested in what his brother had to say. To him, this one had talent: plain and simple. And as he tried staring at him with his X-ray vision, the drummer quickly averted his own gaze elsewhere.

  Becoming irritated with his brother, Wade raised his fist for silence and clenched his jaw. Immediately, Os sighed aloud and became silent at once knowing Wade’s universal sign for ‘shut the hell up.’

  When the auditorium became silent again, Wade unfurled his fist and motioned to the drummer who, during Os’ tantrum, waited patiently.

  “I’m waiting.”

  Without pause, the drummer twirled his drumstick
s once again and for the next five minutes, that small auditorium was ablaze with crashing cymbals and thundering drums. The power with which he slammed down onto the percussions seemed to reverberate through the stage and vibrate their seats. And when it became abundantly clear to Wade that the mysterious drummer who took center stage hadn’t missed a single beat, Joe and Os jumped up and down excitedly while they hugged one another.

  Even when he finished executing Heretic’s most difficult song without so much as flinching, Wade only continued to stare at him as if trying to unearth some hidden secret.

  “Are you guys done?” Wade asked in response to his bandmates’ idiotic jumping.

  “What the hells’ gotten in to you, man!? That was damn good!”

  Os yelled in excitement and it wasn’t long before Joe caught on – bouncing and pulling at his dreads in disbelief.

  “Yeah. Too good,” he uttered to himself.

  Wade gradually came to his feet and eyed the stranger whose chest was huffing slightly from the exercise. He studied him carefully, wondering if he had indeed found Hess’ replacement.

  “What’s your name?” Wade asked, leaning over the chair in front of him for support.

  He cleared his throat before answering, “Chris.”

  “Chris,” Wade repeated. “That’s some of the best drum play I’ve ever seen. How old are you?"

  It was clear to Wade that his questioning made the guy nervous when he cleared his throat again and answered back in an overly deep tone.

  “Twenty-three.”

  “Damn,” he genuinely remarked. “You’re too young to be that gifted. Where the hell did you learn to play like that?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Been doin’ it since I could crawl.”

  Wade nodded, taking in the few words he said. But while Chris’ performance was no less than a shock to Os and Joe, it was miracle as far as Wade was concerned. In the eyes of Heretic’s fans, Hess was the best. Now, Wade’s gut came through for him once again.

  “Right on. You uh…wear that stuff all the time or are you gonna show us what you look like?” Wade asked, gesturing to Chris’ hoodie.

  “What’d’you care?” he asked defensively.

  “I don’t,” Wade fired back. “I’d just like to see the face of the drummer who’s probably gonna save our ass.”

  With some hesitation, he finally removed his hoodie but kept his gaze firmly away from Wade’s penetrating stare.

  “What about your beanie?” Wade pressed.

  “What about it?!” Chris shot back in defense.

  “Whas wrong, man!? You ugly or sumthin’?!” Os laughed like a moron and elbowed Joe who reluctantly joined in.

  Wade moved his head and glared at them for a moment before he looked back at the drummer.

  “Is there a problem, Chris?”

  For an instant, it appeared that Chris was getting physically upset when Wade saw him scan the whole the auditorium, almost as if he was looking for an escape route.

  “No. No, there’s no problem.”

  Defeated, Chris hung his head and slowly peeled off his beanie. But the deception became apparent as he revealed long, shoulder-length black hair.

  When Chris looked up, it was then that Wade, along with the rest of Heretic, discovered that their savior drummer was a girl, not a guy like they had all been lead to believe.

  “Hoolleeeee-shyiiit!”

  Os’ thundering howl of discontent echoed loudly in the small auditorium while Joe’s jaw dropped.

  Unabashed by Chris’ reveal, Wade didn’t so much as bat an eyelash and appeared rather apathetic. But after a few moments, a small smile crept onto Wade’s face.

  “Christine, I assume.”

  “Chris,” she corrected angrily.

  “Fine. Chris. You think you can play like that all the time? I have zero tolerance for fuck-ups.”

  Chris huffed through her nose. “I can play your shit in the dark.”

  Wade nodded with approval at her confidence and her thick skin.

  “Good. Some day you may do just that. Welcome to Heretic.”

  And with that, Wade turned and left a stunned audience behind him - fully prepared to make a b-line to the bus and his bed. But no sooner than Wade walked out of the building, than Joe pushed past Os and bounded up on stage.

  Excited at the prospect of a female band member, he immediately ran up to meet Chris, snatched her hand and began to shake it vigorously.

  “Hey-Hey! I’m Joe!”

  As Joe introduced himself, Os huffed in disgust and quickly ran out to catch up to brother who was already halfway to the bus. As soon as he came upon him, Os grabbed his brother’s arm and spun him around.

  “Dude! The hell’er you doin’!? You can’t be serious about this!”

  Wade was beyond irritable and just too damn exhausted to walk to the bus let alone fight with his brother again. Still, he held his ground and jerked his arm out of his brother’s grasp.

  “What’s the problem, Os?”

  “What’s the-!? Hell man! She’s a fuckin’ girl!”

  “So what? Because she has tits, she can’t play?”

  “‘So what!?’ We can’t have a chick in Heretic! If anyone found out-!”

  But Wade was upon his brother in a second and got right into his face.

  “No one will find out, Os. Not if we keep our big mouths shut!” Wade spouted back.

  “This isn’t gonna work, man! You know as well as I do that chicks can’t-!”

  “Can’t what, Os?! Play? Were you fuckin’ sleeping or did you actually see what happened back there? You know, last time I checked, there are plenty of girls who play the same kinda music we do-!”

  “But not…Heretic!” Os reached and grabbed for his brother’s wrist again and stared into Wade’s eyes like a raving madman. “Listen man, you throw that girl into the band with us and there’ll be no tellin’ how many fans we’ll lose. She won’t be good enough to-!”

  “To what?! Replace Hess? We all got our balls stomped on, alright?”

  “Wade-.”

  “ALL of us!” Wade roared. “But the only thing that I regret now is that we didn’t find her sooner,” Wade fumed in silent resolve. Then, he looked down at his wrist. “Now, are you going to lose your man-grip or do I have to tell everyone you got a busted lip because you tripped over the speakers during rehearsals…again?”

  Despite the fact that Os was clearly larger and heavier than his younger brother, it did little to motivate him to continue the argument. Left with no choice, he released his brother’s arm allowing Wade to continue walking to the bus. As far as he was concerned, he would sleep until California.

  Os huffed and tried to protest again despite Wade’s threat, but it seemed no matter what he tried to come up with, he couldn’t get the words out. But then, Wade decided that he’d had enough with Os’ blundering attempt at a retort.

  “Look, just stop it already!” Suddenly, Wade moved in on his brother so quick, it scared the hell out of Os, but he stood there regardless, even as Wade forcibly pushed his finger into his brother’s chest. Soon, Wade’s loud voice turned into low growl. “If you can find me a guy who can play better than her - fine. If not, then shut the hell up!”

  Wade turned and left his brother speechless as he climbed onto the bus and disappeared behind the doors.

  Try as he might, Os knew that no matter what he said, he couldn’t win. As front man for Heretic, he knew Wade was the one that made all of the decisions that kept them going. Sure, they have had disagreements before, but Os found it difficult to just let this one go. But at the moment, he knew he had to go along with it.

  But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

  Os shot a disgusted look back at the door that remained open to the auditorium. From where he stood, he could easily see Joe and Chris getting along famously.

  “Man,” he sighed. “You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”

  Soon, even Os was too tired to think about anyth
ing anymore. And without another word, he retreated onto the bus and crashed into bed.

  Chapter 3

  As the bus hummed along the highway to California, it was easy to see why the group could hardly tell that Chris was a girl by looks alone.

  Hidden well from under her hoodie, her hair was expertly tucked underneath and to anyone else, she looked no different than the rest of guys from Heretic. With all the baggy clothes she wore, they might never have guessed this musical genius - this bad ass drummer - was a female.

  The rest of Heretic took their usual places at the front while the droning sound of the engine brought them past one green sign after another.

  Wade was on the couch with his feet up while he listened to songs on his phone with just a single earpiece crammed next to his ear drum. Os strummed on his guitar just a few feet away – his gentle plucking just barely discernable above the low roar of the engine. Joe, on the other hand, sat at the table directly across from Chris, opposite of Wade and Os.

  Chris had slept in the same spot all night almost afraid to move while the bus made its journey to California across hundreds of miles. She didn’t bother to ask for a bed because she didn’t care. She would have slept on their dirty laundry if she had to. But a bed was the furthest thing from her mind after Heretic began to emerge from their respective rooms just before the crack of noon. And in no time at all, Joe’s eager questions seemed non-stop while Wade did his best to listen in.

  “So where the hell’er you from anyway?” Joe asked.

  Chris shrugged her shoulders and squeezed her drumsticks in her hands tightly.

  “Michigan.”

  “Oh. You got family there?”

  Chris answered, “Yeah. My dad’s a Colonel in the Army.”

  “Awesome,” Joe remarked, pushing dreads out of his eyes. “And your mom?”

  She shrugged her shoulders again and her voice dropped to a low whisper. “She died in a car accident just after I was born.”

  As she calmly explained her tragedy, Joe immediately wished he hadn’t brought it up.

  “Oh, uhm…I-I’m sorry,” he stammered while working quickly to change the subject. “Okay, that’s it. I can’t wait anymore,” Joe said.