No Holding Back

by Dresden, Amanda

  “Joe! Where’s Chris!?”

  “Gah!” he yelled, as an elbow landed on the back of his head. “I-I dunno, man! We got separated!”

  Wade’s heart raced as he frantically sent his eyes in all directions looking for their drummer. Suddenly, he broke into a cold sweat as arms and faces started to close in on him and it seemed his heart both fluttered and stopped at the same time.

  “Joe! Get to the bus! I have to find Chris!” he screamed, the desperation in his voice as sickening as the feeling that came from his gut.

  “Lemme help you!” he pleaded.

  Wade nodded angrily. “Get back to the bus and wait for me!”

  With one final shove, Wade sealed the argument and pushed Joe in the direction of the bus. He wasn’t as concerned with Joe as he was with Chris. Every minute – every second – that he didn’t have her, warned of Heretic’s inevitable downfall.

  He tried to think clearly, to get ahold of a situation that had spun wildly out of control. But his mouth became dry as the encompassing wall of bodies closed in around him even further. He knew he had to get out fast, before the anxiety of his claustrophobia got the better of him.

  Sweat beaded on his forehead and went into his eyes, giving them a stinging sensation, but he fought it off and his growing symptoms. At that moment, Chris was all he could think about. He’d never forgive himself if anything happened to her.

  But then, he came to a tight group of bodies that were bent over, clamoring at something on the ground. He kept hearing Chris’ name over and over again. There was too much yelling for him to really know what was going on, but after he shouldered himself in, he found exactly what he was looking for.

  Curled up tightly into a ball on the ground, was Chris. At first sight, he was relieved when he found her beanie and hoodie still safely covering her head. She had her hands firmly over her head while people pulled and pushed her in all directions.

  “Chris?! CHRIS!”

  Wade dove through the crowd and even pushed several other people aside, but he hardly cared about his fans at that moment. But even as Wade stumbled next to Chris, he couldn’t get her to budge.

  “Chris – it’s me! It’s Wade!”

  Despite Wade’s desperate cries, Chris didn’t move, at least not on her own.

  Fans everywhere made every attempt to see her, even kicking her as they tried to get in close – even clamoring over others. Mosh pits formed. Fights broke out. And Wade’s chest began to tighten and constrict.

  Wade ignored the stinging pain of fingernails clawing him, further shredding his shirt, and picked up Chris while she continued holding onto her clothing for dear life.

  He took his first step through the madness and looked down at Chris while he carried her like a newborn. And when she finally had the courage to look back up at him, Wade cringed when a single shaking eye, was one that was filled with busted blood vessels.

  From out of nowhere, he felt a sudden anger for every living thing world except for the single fragile creature he now carried in his arms – a burning hatred that existed only in the dark, untold stories of his past. He covered it with his screaming lyrics but no one really knew the part of him he kept closed off – from everyone. It was the fear of losing his music. To Wade, it was worse than dying. And at the point in time, Chris was his music. She was the heartbeat behind it all.

  “Hang on!” he shouted at her.

  Chris nodded and with one hand firmly on her hoodie and the other clutching Wade’s neck, he began to make headway.

  He no longer felt tired, anxious, and sweaty or the merciless claws of girls who wanted a piece of Heretic’s front man – in more ways than one. The bus was only a dozen or so yards away, but he was even more relieved when security finally surfaced through all of the madness and made a circle of protection around the duo.

  When the bus opened its doors, Wade never thought he would be so happy to see Joe when he stepped in and helped Chris into her seat.

  “Jesus, I thought you guys would never get the hell outta there!” Joe exclaimed.

  While Joe grabbed a dish towel and ran it under the kitchen faucet, Wade got to one knee and inspected Chris, lifting her chin slightly in the process. He saw that in addition to a bloodshot eye, blood came from her mouth and nose.

  All the while, Os stood there stupidly, staring down at the back of his brother’s head. “What the hell happened to you guys?”

  Just then, Wade slowly came to his feet and stared into the empty space in front of him. At first, Chris hardly noticed Wade’s body as it began to shake. But when it gave way to tremors accompanied by balled fists, Joe promptly helped Chris to her feet and began to lead her back to her room.

  “We need to leave now,” Joe said suddenly.

  “Why?” she asked.

  As if in response to her question, Wade turned in his brother’s direction and connected his knuckles with Os’ face.

  Wade hit his brother so hard, the impact caused Os to stumble and fall face first into Pete’s plastic cubicle. Two fierce blows in a fraction of a second sent Os sprawling on the floor. Chris almost had to cover her scream. She had seen their spats before, but not like this.

  “That’s why,” Joe commented.

  He quickly ushered Chris to the back of the bus and led her away from the sibling rumble as if he had expected this knockdown, drag-out fight until they were both safely back in her room.

  Meanwhile, in an angry rage, Wade picked up Os by his shirt and bore down into his face and screamed.

  “YOU ASSHOLE! YOU LEFT US! YOU LEFT US THERE TO GET MAULED!”

  “I didn’t…I didn’t know!” Os’ lip quivered in fear.

  “Bullshit! You knew! You knew and we could’ve been exposed!”

  Wade released his brother angrily, not caring at all that he had made him bleed. Not being in control for the second time in one night made Wade want to pull his hair out.

  “I’m telling you man…I thought you were right behind me!”

  With an eerie quickness, Wade honed in on his brother again and picked him up by the shirt. He knew now there was no getting off his warpath, and as he spoke through clenched teeth, Os trembled.

  “The only reason why you’re not in the hospital right now…is because we’re brothers.”

  Wade released him for the second time while Os reached for his chair, thankful to be let go.

  “If she so much has a broken finger from that little stunt you pulled…you’re done!”

  Os jumped at the volume of his brother’s voice but managed to find a shred of courage to get something off his chest.

  “I never thought my brother would choose some girl over this band-.”

  “She is this band!” Wade interrupted, fighting another urge to hit him.

  “If she doesn’t play,” he hissed, honing in on his brother even more. “…then none of us do.” Wade shot an unconcerned glance at Os’ mouth where he hit him. “And as for your lip? You. Fell.”

  Wade delivered another look of pure evil at his brother before leaving him be. But all this time, Pete sat comfortably unaware of the family feud that went on, not even when Os’ fat face connected with his cubicle.

  Os swallowed more of his own blood and could only stare at the floor while his brother walked to the back of the bus and out of sight.

  Joe and Chris almost jumped in surprise when the plastic partition tore open. Wade stepped in, still shaking from his rage explosion and looking like he had been through hell and back. His clothes were torn and ripped in several places and he carried the battle scars of numerous scratches. Wade sniffed and wiped at his nose with his hand, but when he pulled it away, he saw blood on it.

  He swallowed, tasting the iron in his blood go down the back of his throat. He didn’t remember getting smacked in the nose on the way back to the bus, but he didn’t care. He was far more concerned with Chris’ injuries.

  Wade nodded once at Joe and acknowledged him. “I got this, man.”

  He
held out his hand and Joe relinquished the damp cloth, littered with bright red spots of Chris’ blood.

  Joe hopped up, ready to hand over the position of nurse. “I’ll tell Pete to get goin’.”

  “Thanks.”

  Joe left and closed the partition behind him while Wade sat down next to Chris. She sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor, but to Wade, she looked surprisingly calm.

  Wade plopped down on the bed next to her. “Lemme see the damage.”

  Reluctantly, Chris turned to meet Wade’s gaze.

  “Christ…” he sighed.

  Out of pure disgust, he looked away from her injuries and at the fact that his very own flesh and blood did such a thing. From looks alone, he gathered that she had the makings of a black eye, a bloody lip, a nasty cut above her eyebrow, and her nose was still oozing blood. But then, Wade felt the bus’ engine rumble to life and they both moved slightly in response to the small lurch forward.

  “Your nose is still bleeding. Lift your head up.”

  Chris didn’t wince or make a sound while Wade dabbed at her nose and lip.

  “I-I’m ok, ya know,” she stuttered. “Nuthin’ I can’t handle.”

  “For now you’re alright, but the adrenaline hasn’t worn off yet,” Wade explained calmly, despite the fact he was a borderline madman just seconds ago.

  He continued to dab at her face until he erased as much of the injuries as possible. He wanted to grab the bus’ first aid kit, but remembered something about the argument he had with his brother.

  “Lemme see your hands.”

  “What?”

  “Your hands. Give ‘em here.”

  Without waiting for her permissions, Wade reached forward and held one of her tiny hands in both of his and moved her fingers one by one. He never really gave it much thought before and now he was wondering how the hell these small, petite fingers could deliver such amazing music.

  "W-Wade? What’er you doing?"

  Wade jerked himself out of his stupor and shook off the small intimacy, getting back to the task at hand.

  “Uh - sorry… Does this hurt?” Wade asked as he gently bent her middle finger back.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Good.”

  He continued to inspect all of her fingers until he was certain that none of them were broken. He breathed a sigh of relief knowing their drummer, though a little shaken up, was relatively unharmed. Then he moved on to her wrists.

  “Does it hurt when I do this?”

  He pushed her left wrist sending it backwards but she remained unmoving.

  “No.”

  He moved on to her right. “How ‘bout this?”

  “Tsss!!” Chris drew back her arm in pain and cradled it next to her body.

  Wade’s head fell back and he sighed, “Shit…”

  “I-It’s nothing! I just got pushed around. It must’ve happened when I fell-!”

  “I’ll be back.”

  He got up and walked out of the room, thundering into the kitchen area.

  “Is she alright?” Os asked as he started to get up from his seat.

  “The hell do you care?!” Wade snapped.

  Defeated, Os fell back into his chair while Wade opened the freezer and took out a cold pack. He briefly glanced at Joe while he reached for the first aid kit out of the kitchen cabinet. To Wade, Joe looked exactly how Wade felt; confused, worried, scared. But neither of them said anything as Wade turned back down the hallway.

  He arrived back at Chris’ room moments later and motioned for her hand again.

  “Alright, give it up.”

  She held out her injured wrist just as Wade pressed in into the cold pack.

  “Jeez, that’s freezing!”

  “Good,” he commented. “You’re going to keep it there as long as you can stand it.”

  Chris did little to protest. Other than a few fitful whimpers of pain, she sat utterly silent as Wade doctored her wounds. He dabbed her lip, butterflied-bandaged the cut above her eye, and did his best to stop the small amount of bleeding that oozed from her nose.

  “Wade?” Chris interrupted.

  “Yeah?” he asked, convincing himself he didn’t need to look her in the eye.

  “I-I think we have a bigger problem than a bloody lip.”

  Wade’s heart dropped and he stopped and forced himself to look into her moist eyes. “Such as?”

  “My sticks,” she admitted. “I lost ‘em in the crowd.”

  Wade’s heart started beating again. “Pfft. Big deal. We can get more anywhere we want.”

  Suddenly, and without any warning, Chris let out an uncontrollable shiver and started to cry.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey! What’s the matter? What’s wrong?”

  But Chris could hardly get any audible words out in the middle of all her uncontrollable sobbing.

  “I-I can’t play without my sticks!” she stuttered. “I’ve had those for…forever!”

  Wade was taken aback. On one hand, he wasn’t convinced what Chris was saying made sense. To him, sticks were sticks.

  “Chris! Hey-hey!” he pleaded in a fruitless attempt to console her. “They’re just sticks! Alright? We can’t get more just like ‘em!”

  Chris shook her head. “No! No-no-no! You don’t understand-!”

  “What!?” Wade said, taking her by the shoulders. “What don’t I understand?!”

  She looked up at him, a miserable, sobbing wretch though she was, but failed to get anymore words out. Her lips trembled, her hands began to shake, but then, Wade watched as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. In one final exhale, Chris passed out and fell onto Wade’s chest while her cold pack fell on the floor.

  “Chris?” Wade said, trying to shake their drummer back to life. “Chris? You awake?”

  A soft snoring met him in reply.

  An awkward moment seized him. With Chris passed out cold and unresponsive, he didn’t know what to do with his arms. He swallowed, but his dry mouth became even drier.

  “Shit.”

  Carefully, he placed his arms around her, his embrace swallowing her more than her baggy clothes. And there he patted her gently on the back, the only soothing display of gentleness he could think of.

  He closed his eyes but when he did, there were more fleshy, sweaty bodies – an unending maze of hide and seek that he felt like he was playing with Heretic’s drummer. His drummer.

  He had appointed himself as Chris’ protector from day one, but that night made him feel utterly helpless. To Wade, he was no different than the crowd that mauled her, beat her, suffocated her. A single innocent act of predatory spying from earlier that night, and the masturbation afterwards.

  He felt like a monster.

  He embraced her again, a little tighter, and he could feel his arms and legs jerk in oncoming sleep. He knew he had to force himself awake, to get up and go to his own room, but exhaustion came upon him in no time at all.

  And soon, he also passed out.

  No sooner than Wade closed his eyes than he sprung up in the middle of an assault. At least, that’s what it felt like to him.

  He found himself smack dab in the middle of a crowd, clawing and biting at his exposed flesh like ravenous zombies. Wade felt his symptoms rising again; he broke out into a cold sweat at once, his rib cage tightened around his already cramped lungs, and his vision began to tunnel in on him. But the sight he saw just before him made his stomach drop.

  “Wade! Wade!!”

  In front of him, Wade saw Chris struggling as he did. But due to her smaller size, she was worse off than Wade, and very nearly getting trampled.

  “Chris!” he cried desperately, knowing that yet again, he let this happen.

  He fought, he kicked, he thrashed and screamed, but no matter how hard he tried, his surroundings folded in on him, crushing him to the ground.

  “Wade!”

  He heard her voice among the screaming and yelling and tried to get up, but it was no use. He f
elt stuck to the ground, and despite his ogre strength, it was no use here. Everyone else was stronger than him. Every time he took a step forward, arms rubber-banded him back two more.

  He heard whispers snake into his ears about their success, their defeat, some claimed to know that Chris was a girl and couldn’t wait to fuck her. And Wade felt his stomach drop with each ugly syllable.

  Others offered record deals, some shoved pens and paper in front of him begging for an autograph, cutting off his vision to Chris, but he swatted them away. He tried pushing them all, and everything else for that matter, trudging through the muck of nonsense that came from everywhere.

  “Wade, Wade! Look this way – for the camera!”

  Flashing lights came from everywhere, essentially blinding him, but when his vision cleared, he saw Hess standing in front of him.

  Wade’s anger mounted and his blood boiled. Somehow, seeing his smug face nearly hidden beneath his rough black dreads made him even stronger. Soon, Wade began to push back, even though Hess had both his arms, digging his heels into the ground.

  As Hess came forward, he whispered into Wade’s ear.

  “You think you can replace me?” he hissed.

  Wade ignored him and spotted Chris just a few yards away. His strength was renewed even as more arms and legs came from out of nowhere, desperate to keep them apart.

  “No one can replace me…” Hess continued. “She’ll never be good enough.”

  Wade grew so enraged at those last words that he balled up one of his fists. And when Hess pulled away, Wade reared back and was prepared to knock the smile off his face, but he stopped mid-throw.

  Wade stood stunned when Hess’ visage morphed into that of his brother. But Hess’ voice came through when Os spoke.

  “I never thought my brother would choose a girl over this band...” Os repeated, although his mouth never moved. Instead, the thundering echo of their argument from earlier buzzed around in his head like angry bees.