No Holding Back

by Dresden, Amanda

  When Chris feared they were pushing their time limit, she had to drag Joe away from the counter before he was convinced he ‘needed’ something else. By the time they ran back to the bus and clamored up the steps, Chris’ shins were on fire.

  “You’re late,” Wade said without even looking at them.

  “Whatever, man. Your watch is wrong,” Joe fired back.

  “ALRIGHT PETE, MOVE OUT!” Wade screamed.

  Chris jumped yet again in response to his booming voice. Even after all the concerts and their time together on the road, she still never quite got used to his volume.

  But despite Wade’s claim that Pete was deaf, the bus roared to life and took off down the road. However, no sooner that they hit the road than Joe began to pester Wade about where they were headed next.

  “You’ll know when we get there,” was always his answer.

  But ten minutes later, the bus swung into a parking lot dotted by a few sparse cars. Wade got up and walked to Pete, directing him where to park.

  “Alright,” he said to the rest of his group. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  Wade walked off the bus leaving his confused band mates behind. Chris didn’t think they were parked anywhere in particular and watched Wade walk out of sight behind a row of trees.

  Frustrated, she sighed and plopped back down in her seat. “We gonna eat or something?” she asked Joe. But his look of confusion matched her own.

  “I ‘unno.”

  The three of them waited in silence until Chris saw Wade reemerge from the tree line. She squinted through the glass as he closed the distance to the bus. But this time, he carried what looked to be small, white envelopes. She wracked her brain on what they could possibly be. Even when Wade stomped onto the bus, he held up four card-sized envelopes, but Chris was still in the dark.

  “Alright,” he said, handing out the paper pamphlets to Os, Chris and Joe. Chris inspected hers curiously and saw it had a number written in black marker. “We’ve got one night to ourselves before our next show, so I’ve made arrangements for us at a hotel-.”

  But before he could get another word out, Joe and Os jumped up excitedly as if they had won the lottery. Wade tried to calm them down but the two were already climbing over each other to get to their rooms first.

  “Guys! Guys, remember to keep a low profile! Ugh…” Wade called, but their attention spans were shot.

  “I don’t get it,” Chris said to Wade. “What are they so excited about?”

  “You’re kidding, right? When’s the last time you slept on a real bed?”

  The question caught her off guard. “I…can’t remember.”

  “Neither can I. Besides, we could all use a little more room to stretch our legs.”

  All of a sudden, Os and Joe burst from their rooms carrying their bags and a few other items tucked under their arms. Each seemed desperate to try to beat the other off the bus first.

  “Five bucks says I’ll beat your fat ass to the pool!” Joe exclaimed.

  Joe was the first to emerge from his room and had a head start as he and Os practically pushed themselves past Chris and Wade.

  “You’re on, shit head!”

  Wade sighed aloud and shook his head. He shoved his hand into his pocket while with the other, thumbed around on his cell phone. Like before, Chris swore she heard a slight jingle, but she couldn’t tell if it was a coin.

  “Uhm…Wade?”

  “Yeah?”

  “While we’re here,” Chris began. “Am I Chris or Christine?”

  Wade stopped messing with his phone and looked at her, almost sad. Right away, Chris already knew the answer.

  “I don’t think we should risk a roadie seeing you. If it’s alright-.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, sure. No problem.”

  Dragging her feet to her room, she donned her baggy clothing and shoved whatever she could stuff into her backpack. When she closed the door to her room, Wade whispered to her on the way off the bus.

  “Go on,” he said while Mike’s stressed voice could be heard on the other end. “I’ll catch up. Your room is next to mine and Joe’s.”

  She didn’t feel the need to respond as she solemnly left the bus behind and headed through the tree lines.

  She trudged along until the fancy hotel came into view. It may have been big, but none of them even noticed it earlier. Its view was blocked by several other buildings and was cleverly surrounded by trees. Chris readjusted her hoodie and beanie as she did so many times before and walked through the revolving doors.

  An intricate and heavy chandelier hung from the ceiling and off to her right, a flat screen TV aired the local news above a cozy fireplace while leather chairs surrounded a coffee table.

  To her left, a woman in business casual clothes stood behind the counter and smiled warmly when Chris showed her key.

  “Uhm…which way is it?”

  “Up the stairs, to the right, and down the hall,” she responded kindly.

  “Thanks.”

  Chris walked down the dimly lit and carpeted hallway passing several vending machines, a few employee only rooms, a video game room which lifted her spirits, and she even passed by the pool window on the way. Already, she could see Joe and Os by themselves jumping into the water over and over again, competing over who could make bigger waves. It reeked of chlorine but she fought harder to rid her senses of a Wade’s half-naked brother in swimming trunks.

  Before she opened the door to the stair well, Chris noticed another hallway with a sign on the wall that read “Smokey’s Bar and Grill”. The hotel appeared to be relatively empty and despite the expensive details to the wallpaper and hanging pictures, she swore she never even heard of its name.

  When she finally came off the stairwell and up to her room on the second floor, she inserted the plastic key and the door opened with an electronic beep. She walked into the dark room and found a switch, bringing to life a single lamp stand by the bed.

  As if stumbling upon a treasure trove, Chris immediately closed and locked the door behind her. Her heart skipped a beat when she discovered she had not one, but two beds all to herself, a fridge, microwave, a large flat-screen TV, several fancy lamps, and one of the biggest bathrooms she’d ever seen. Well, big to her anyway when in all actuality, it was nothing but an ordinary sized bathroom. On the opposite side of the room, the air conditioner that blasted cold air tossed the surrounding curtains wildly.

  She flung off her book bag and tossed it onto one of the beds and peeled off her hoodie. She rummaged through her bags, throwing objects left and right in an effort to try and find some of her feminine products. Now that she was all by herself, her first order of business was a shower.

  After she filled the room with enough steam, she stepped into the cascade of scalding water and exhaled forever as it flowed over her. She took advantage of being utterly alone by staying in as long as she wanted. On any other occasion, she’d have to hurry so someone else could use the toilet.

  She spotted the shower soaps, shampoo, conditioner, washcloths, a razor, shaving cream, and used them all. She soon forgot about Joe’s warning of going ‘au naturale’ and attacked the forest that grew on her legs.

  Happy that she looked and felt like a girl, she climbed out of the shower, pruned beyond all recognition. After she dried off, she walked about in nothing more than her towel and fell backwards onto the bed.

  A lazy, drunken smile formed on her mouth as she listened to the hypnotizing rush of blood in her ears – thanks to the molten hot shower she took. As her eyelids blinked together slower and slower, she soon fell asleep under the soft glow of the nearby lamp.

  Chapter 14

  Right away, Chris knew she was dreaming. After all, she would never be caught on stage without her sticks.

  Or her clothes.

  But there she was: standing on stage in front thousands of Heretic’s fans with nothing more than her drumsticks – literally. She looked down and found herself completely naked and th
e penetrating stage lights from above reminded her of an impending alien abduction.

  She was completely and utterly alone with no clothes and with nothing to hide behind. Not even her drum set. But the laughter that rose throughout cut her to the bone.

  Out of instinct, she felt for her hoodie, but it wasn’t there. She stood exposed as a girl. Everyone, everywhere, knew who and what she was. She looked around for a way out just like Wade had taught her, but she found no exit signs, no escape routes – nothing that would save her from the onslaught of laughter – laughter that exposed her far more than going without her disguise ever did.

  Suddenly, Os and Joe appeared on stage standing in their regular spots. And to make matters worse, she heard their laughter a clear cut above the others – goading her into tears. She tried to cry. She wished she could. She wished she could even shut her eyes and block out the pain of it all, but when Wade appeared on stage just feet from her, she thought she would die.

  Standing with a stone-cold expression, he seemed to not look at her, but through her rather, causing Chris to lose strength in her legs and fall to the ground.

  But it wasn’t his staring that tore her apart. It was the fact that her protector did nothing to stop the verbal attacks in any way – leaving her wide open, only to be torn apart.

  Voices everywhere were yelling, screaming, and telling her she would never amount to anything. She would never be a real drummer. She would never be taken seriously as a female musician. She heard whispers of her father – that he was coming for her – that she would never lay eyes on a drum set again.

  She tried to scream and cry out to Wade for help, but she couldn’t make a sound. Not that it would have helped. He didn’t so much as lift a finger to help her and only continued to stare at her in silent disappointment.

  She tried to get up and run, but she felt stuck to the floor. The stage lights above her grew even brighter, blinding her from the finger-pointing and scrutinizing stare of the crowd. But when she looked up into the blurry cone of light, she began to swoon and grow dizzy.

  The last thing she remembered was her head hitting something hard before she woke up.

  As soon as Chris opened her eyes, she gasped for air as if she had been submerged underwater for too long. She sat upright, her towel still around her, and palmed the floor – trying to get her bearings.

  She remembered falling asleep on her bed, but figured that after such a horrible dream, she must have rolled off and woke herself up.

  Right away, she shivered and rubbed her arms together furiously and watched her breath escape into the air. She eyed the air conditioner and realized that it was still on – full blast.

  “S-S-S-S-S-S-S-Shit-t-t-t-t!”

  Her teeth chattered mechanically and she stumbled on over to the thermostat and promptly shut it off. Soon, the droning sound of the air conditioner came to a halt. But then, several loud knocks pounded against her door.

  “Chris? Hey, you in there? It’s Wade,” came her band mates’ muffled voice through the door.

  “Y-Y-Yeah! J-Just a s-s-s-second!”

  She tried to focus in on the digital alarm clock on the nightstand, but the red numbers were much too blurry as she continued walking clumsily about her room. She silently cursed her genius at tossing her things around earlier. Now, she was having a hell of a time trying to find everything she needed to get dressed before she met Wade at the door. She upturned clothes left and right, trying in vain to find her beanie. She sometimes picked up the same thing before she threw it down again, but then, her distractions caused to her to bump her big toe into a dresser.

  “Fuck!”

  The move smarted and it soon began to throb with pain as she struggled to get her clothes together. She climbed into her boxers and threw on a t-shirt with lightning speed.

  “Chris? You alright?” came Wade’s concerned voice again.

  “Yeah! Y-Yeah! I uhm…I just woke up! Gimme a sec!”

  She managed to find her hoodie and put it on as fast as she could. Almost immediately, her blood thawed and she began to feel better. She found her pants and limped to the door, all while trying to put them on and zip them, but she had trouble getting her fingers to work.

  When she finally zipped her fly, she approached the door and stood on her tiptoes, straining to see the small peephole. And standing on the other side, was Heretic’s front man appearing before a long outstretched hallway.

  Chris opened the door a modest crack before she stood facing Wade and wearing the last thing she remembered seeing him in.

  “Hey. Sorry, I hope I didn’t-.”

  “No. You’re fine.”

  Just then, the cold seemed to seep out of the room and when Chris saw Wade’s reaction to it, she pretended not to notice it.

  “Jesus…it’s freezing in there!” he exclaimed.

  “Yeah. I-I kinda left it on too long.”

  Chris tried to contain own her lingering shivers as she looked back briefly at the thermostat. It may have been off, but she was still chilled to the bone thanks to the frigid air and the nightmare.

  “Are…you alright?” Wade asked, cocking his head to the side.

  Chris shrugged. “Yeah. Why?”

  “Well, it’s just…your face is wet.”

  Chris’ hand instantly shot up and felt the wetness on her cheeks and in her eyes. When she looked at her hand again, her face burned with embarrassment. Apparently, the dream hit a little too close to home and she struggled to come up with a good excuse.

  “N-No! This? No – I uh…I-I just got done taking a shower!” she lied, wiping her face with her sleeve.

  Wade’s forehead wrinkled. “I…thought you said you just got up?”

  Chris knew she was caught in a lie, albeit small. But still, she panicked and tried to correct herself.

  “Y-Yeah, I was. It’s just that…I-I mean…”

  Wade noticed her unusual behavior and almost forgot why he knocked on her door to begin with.

  “Hey, no worries. I was just stoppin’ by to see if you wanted to hang out with us in the bar.”

  Chris was inwardly grateful for the re-direction but was hesitant about going out in public.

  “What…what if someone sees me?” she asked.

  Right away, the guilt of what Wade asked Chris to do hit him like a car – again. But he tried to pull it off as if it wasn’t a big deal.

  “You’re already dressed,” Wade said with the best fake smile he could muster. But when her sad eyes paced the floor, he sighed.

  “Look, Chris: it’s no secret that you stay cooped up by yourself too much. And maybe I’m to blame for that,” he admitted. “Let me make it up to you. Just come down and have a few drinks with us. Joe’s there. Although, I can’t guarantee you ‘n Os’ll be best buds before the night is over.”

  Wade smirked in an attempt to get Chris to smile. It worked, but she shrugged it off with a clearing of her throat. Wade, however, thought she needed more coaxing.

  “We all need time off from who we are to relax. The bar is small and I mean small. When I left to come get you, there was only one elderly couple there and I seriously doubt they know who Heretic is,” Wade explained, but finished with an ultimatum. “Let me put it to you this way: I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

  Chris laughed once through her nose and broke away from Wade’s stare. Finally, she nodded.

  “Alright, fine. But give me like…ten minutes?”

  “Ten minutes,” Wade repeated. “A minute more and I’m sending Joe up after you. Got it?”

  Chris’ tension eased considerably. She knew that if Joe was there, she’d feel more relaxed.

  “Got it.”

  “See you down there.”

  He nodded once, turned, and left. Chris closed her door, thankful she was alone for the time being.

  She scratched her head and fingered through the damp strands of her hair and tried to massage away a small headache. Just then, she spotted her beanie on top of the T
V and reached for it.

  “There you are you little shit…”

  She promptly placed it over her head and worked quickly to hide her hair underneath it. She looked over her shoulder at the digital alarm clock on the nightstand and found that two of her precious minutes were already gone. It was almost eleven, but she strung up her boots as fast as she could, knowing that the last thing she needed was a drunken Joe knocking at her door. She sighed and watched as strands of her hair flew up and fell back down from her breath. She went over to the mirror, readjusted her pants, her hoodie, and made sure her transformation back into a guy was complete. And when she was done, she found Chris Rebman, guy drummer from Heretic, staring right back at her.

  Wade may have said that there was hardly anyone in the bar, but she didn’t want to take that chance. Certainly not after the horrible dream she had.

  She found the plastic key card to her room, stuck it in her back pocket and turned off the lights before she closed the door behind her.

  Chris yawned again and shook her head a few times trying to shake the sleep from her eyes as she trudged down a flight of steps to the first floor. After a year of riding shotgun with Heretic, she could still barely cope with the odd hours.

  But the thought alone made her smile. An entire year of living her dream, and Heretic’s fans were none the wiser.

  But Chris’ thoughts shifted again when the sound of soft music and glass bottles came together and she knew she was drawing close to the bar. As she rounded the corner, the drywall gave way to an endless row of distorted window panes. Chris struggled to see the inside and to the bars’ denizens and when she reached the wooden door with glass inlays, she opened it and timidly peered inside.

  At first glance, the small bar had a warm and cozy atmosphere. A dozen or so booths lined the wall and an older gentleman was busy drying beer mugs by rows of alcohol. A juke box was playing softly, and a TV hung from the corner of the room airing a commercial that Chris had seen before.