No Holding Back

by Dresden, Amanda

  “YEAH, MAN! WE’RE ALREADY HERE….FEW HOURS...URRY AND G….YOUR A… HERE!”

  “Joe? Joe!”

  Wade looked at his phone and wondered why he was getting lousy reception when suddenly, the call was lost. But when he tried calling him back - the phone was dead.

  “Sonnavu-!”

  Wade tried to get his own excitement level under control. He realized it wouldn’t have done him any good to get upset even though the rest of Heretic was several states away. He only hoped that Joe heard his last words before the call was lost. Now, Wade was trapped in Michigan wondering how the hell to get to their next show. If anything, he thought it was impossible.

  “Sooo!? C’mon, what is it?” Chris asked a she pranced in her spot.

  But Wade hardly knew where to begin.

  “You won the competition.”

  Chris rolled her eyes. “And?”

  Wade couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “We have a concert in a few hours…”

  Instantly, Chris’ face lit up like a Christmas tree.

  “But it’s in Nebraska; there’s no way we’ll make it in time.”

  Chris fell into despair, but only for a fleeting moment. And then, she turned to her father.

  “Dad! That guy you know…does he owe you anymore favors?”

  Wade could see the gears working in her father’s head, but soon but after, he shared his daughter’s equally mischievous grin.

  “Why yes. Yes, I believe does.”

  Now, it was Wade’s turn to be in the dark.

  Chapter 24

  Wade did his best to avoid looking out the side of the helicopter at all costs. But as he accidentally caught glimpses of the tree lines moving at over two hundred miles per hour, he began to seriously doubt his ability to keep himself from getting nauseous.

  “How much longer is it?!” Wade asked again.

  Chris rolled her eyes and seemed to take enjoyment in the fact that the wind was rushing through her sleek black hair. She also had a smile that went on for miles.

  “Would you relax?!” she yelled from across the cab. The roar of the engine was deafening. “You want to get to the concert on time or not!?”

  Despite the fact that Chris was enjoying every minute of this ‘joy ride’, Wade remained terrified and gripped his seat with white-knuckle ferocity.

  “Aren’t these things dangerous? I may wanna have kids someday, y’know!”

  Wade swooned as he tried to concentrate on the ceiling of the helicopter, but the never-ending blur of streets and buildings below started to take its toll on him.

  “I can’t believe the famous Wade Griffin is afraid of heights!” she teased.

  “I’m not afraid of heights! I’m afraid of falling!” he corrected.

  But without warning, the Blackhawk took a nose dive of several feet, causing Wade to clutch his stomach and almost vomit in his mouth. Chris laughed at his expense.

  “Not everyone gets to ride one of these babies! Besides - it could always be worse!”

  “HOW COULD IT BE ANY WORSE?!” Wade fisted his mouth, wondering when this whole ordeal would finally be over.

  “Well, the main rotary blade is only a few inches from the tail blade,” Chris explained, pointing to various spots inside the cab. “If those bad boys happened to collide, we’d be in deep shit!”

  Despite the horrendous details of another possible outcome of death, Chris remained cheerful while Wade appeared less than amused. And so he groaned and buried his head in his arms and legs.

  “How’er we holding up back here?”

  Chris’ father stepped out of the cockpit and stood by Wade. He was donned in a full flight suit complete with a radio helmet and aviator sunglasses and appeared to be enjoying the ride as much as his daughter. The Colonel placed a hearty slap on Wade’s back almost causing him to vomit again.

  “No tangos, pop!” Chris answered enthusiastically and gave a ‘thumbs up’ to her father.

  He laughed and reached inside of his flight suit and handed Wade a small, brown paper bag.

  “Here!” he yelled over the drone of the rotary blade. “You look like you could use one of these!”

  Wade’s face went pale and he smiled weakly. “Thanks…”

  But as if the timing couldn’t be any more spot on; Wade’s stomach responded to yet another nose dive of several feet, and this time, he could help as he began to heave violently into the bag.

  “Hang in there, champ! We’re almost there! Look!” Chris exclaimed, pointing out of the cab.

  “Do I have to!?” Wade cried.

  “Just do it, you big baby!”

  Going against his better judgment, Wade reluctantly turned and peered out the side of the helicopter and there, without a doubt, was the site of their next performance. Swarms of people were already gathered by the enormous stage and he guessed their numbers to be in the thousands. Wade almost forgot that their next gig was outdoors.

  As the helicopter whirled about and tossed the surrounding foliage like a hurricane, Wade wondered if he would ever get the droning noise of the rotary blades out of his head, but at this point, he only hoped he wouldn’t fall to his death. Hell, he’d even give anything to see Os again.

  Much too ready to leave their flying deathtrap, Wade became anxious as the helicopter rounded the back of the stage and descended slowly. Already, he could make out the cheers and screams coming from fans who thought their unusual drop-in was a part of the show.

  When the aircraft finally touched down, Wade practically fell out onto the ground, burying his head in the grass.

  “You’re not going to get sick again, are you?!” she teased, trying to help him to his feet.

  “I don’t think I have anything left!” he said.

  He allowed Chris to guide him away from the helicopter with their heads down until they were standing at a safe distance.

  Wade looked back and watched as the Colonel exchanged hand signals with the pilot and made another gesture for him to take off. Soon, the surrounding area became a swirling mess of wind and dust and Wade was thankful he wouldn’t be on the return flight. When it finally disappeared, Wade made his way to the backstage and pushing his way through a small crowd of security personnel, Mike appeared.

  “Wade! Jesus Christ, man! A helicopter!?” he screamed. “Why the hell don’t you just come in on a jet aircraft next time!?”

  Wade cleared his throat in an attempt to remove any remaining bouts of sickness and looked back at Chris. Soon, she gave her father another suspicious grin.

  “For the love of God, don’t give her any ideas!” he said, shaking his head.

  But Mike didn’t appear to have heard him. Instead, he shoved his client roughly towards the stage and when he spoke, he was nearly frantic.

  “Will you move your ass!? I’ve never seen so many people here for you guys!”

  They’re only here for one person, Wade thought.

  He looked behind him and to Chris who was already in her typical concert gear. She had just finished tucking all of her hair inside her beanie and was now situating her hoodie with her father bringing up the rear.

  He couldn’t remember a time when she seemed more ready to go, not even at their first concert. And now, she brought out her drumsticks from her back pocket and twirled them in between her fingers. She rolled her shoulders several times and bounced in her spot, preparing herself for another wild ride.

  “Wade! What’s wrong with you, man!?” Mike barked, doing everything he could to physically shove Wade up the stage. “If you wait any longer, they’re going to start tearing shit apart!”

  When Wade managed to shake off the last of his air sickness, he looked back at Chris’ father who smiled slightly, and gave a nod of approval. For some reason, that small gesture made him feel like everything was going to be alright.

  When Wade thought the shrieks and screams from fans couldn’t possibly get any louder, he was wrong. As soon as she stepped on stage, he was greeted by th
ousands of Heretic’s fans. And as he scanned the stage, Joe was the first person he saw, wearing his usual unorthodox smile. Wade smiled back and waved at him and he couldn’t help but notice that all of the electrical equipment was set up just the way he liked it. He swore he’d kiss Joe later for his genius setup. And then, he saw his brother.

  When Wade approached the front and put his guitar around his shoulders, he noticed that Os appeared relaxed and calm despite the circumstances of their last meeting, not to mention his busted lip. Unsure of what to say, if anything, he merely acknowledged him with an uncomfortable nod of this head.

  As he situated his Gibson, he adjusted a few of its strings and reached for the microphone – detaching it from the stand, and proceeded to scream into it.

  “How many of you came here to see Heretic!?”

  Cheers and jeers followed as Wade played to the crowd.

  “Now, how many of you bitches came here to see Christine Rebman!?” he growled.

  The response he received was tenfold.

  Ear-splitting cries poured from Heretic’s fans and Wade saw nothing but an endless sea of hands and faces. Most cried out and reached forward, fisting their hands or shaping them into devil’s horns and there wasn’t a soul who wasn’t yelling at the top of their lungs. But Wade smiled when he heard an unmistakable chant rising from the masses. Even Os and Joe strummed their guitars and added to the endless noise.

  “Chris! Chris! CHRIS! CHRIS!”

  Wade couldn’t help but close his eyes and raise his hands to the skies, as if commanding Heretic’s admirers to raise the noise level and shout their approval at their female drummer. Still, he was determined to hear her name pour from the mouth of every single person there.

  “I DON’T THINK SHE CAN HEAR YOU!” he thundered into the microphone; this time, shoving it out to the crowd while pointing backstage where she waited anxiously.

  Meanwhile, Chris’ face flushed a dark red and she stopped herself from sprinting on stage and looked up at her father – unsure of what to say. She expected to see some expression of disapproval, but it couldn’t have been more the opposite.

  Her father’s chest seemed to swell with pride and he couldn’t help but take in the truth of it all; Wade was right. The Colonel was sure he was exaggerating, but as he looked out over the droves of people holding up signs with his daughter’s name on it, it was all he could do to contain himself.

  “Dad?” came Chris’ small voice.

  He looked back down and beamed with pride at his only child and daughter.

  “You’d uhm...better get up there.”

  Chris had never known a time in her life where her father ever gave into her dreams and wishes and now, it was more than she could take. She tried to say something among the screaming cries of her name being called, but instead, he ushered her up on stage.

  “CHRIS, YOU’RE BEING SUMMONED! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!” came Wade’s thunderous call again.

  “Go on! Get!” he growled, trying to hide his smile.

  Needing no further encouragement, she jumped up on stage and the crowd went ballistic. She was met with the cries and screams of so many faces that wanted her and needed her to play. The overwhelming feeling of being accepted made her become euphoric. In fact, she felt downright untouchable. She started to make a b-line to her playpen, but Wade gestured for her to join him in front.

  Confused by his invitation, she made her way closer to the crowd and as she did, Wade spread his arms as if introducing her for the first time ever. As she stood upon the precipice of the stage, people in the front row reached out to her, barely contained by the man-made barriers. She laughed and cried when she saw several signs that had her name on them, all while dozens of photographers snapped photos from below.

  Wade dropped the microphone to his side and leaned in closer to Chris, and shouted at her over the growing noise.

  “I don’t think you need to wear that shit anymore!”

  Chris looked at Wade who motioned to the crowd in their unrelenting fury. This time, she really smiled - not caring if she looked like a girl anymore. And her next step to freedom still hung on her in the form of her baggy clothing.

  First, she jerked the beanie from her head and held it up for all to see, shaking out her shoulder-length hair in the process. And as Wade expected, they went wild, but even more so as she reared back and tossed the damn thing into a writhing tide of arms. They both watched as music lovers fought over the souvenir, but Chris was far from done.

  Next, she shoved her sticks at Wade while she fought to separate herself from the suffocating hoodie and as before, she drew back further and flung it as far as she could, happy to be rid of it. She saw how the crowed ripped it and tore it into several pieces but she hardly cared. She wouldn’t dream of putting on one of those things again.

  After she was done, Wade brought the microphone to his mouth again.

  “There!” he smiled proudly, holding her at arm’s length. “Mm, Mm, Mm. Now isn’t that better?” he asked the crowd.

  Chris blushed as more cheers of approval followed and Wade heard the distinct whistling of his male audience – hollering and cooing over Chris’ simple strip-tease. Wade grinned even wider.

  “Now guys? Don’t get any ideas,” he purred into the air.

  Before Chris could react, Wade whirled her in and planted a fierce kiss on her lips. Wade’s passion burned for her, and he would have never let go if it wasn’t for the fact that her father was watching everything from backstage. But as Chris stood there waving at everyone - something else happened that neither she nor Wade expected.

  Os timidly approached Chris from the side, almost standing in front of his younger brother. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was up to, until Os extended his hand.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  Chris stared at Os in mute shock, but she gave him her hand anyway. What followed after a simple handshake was a truce that was long overdue. She tried not to stare at his busted lip and bruised eye, but she wondered if a recent sibling feud caused a certain change of heart. But in the end, she didn’t care.

  “Can uh…can we start over?” he offered.

  Chris smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that."

  It was as if Os became a changed person overnight. Wade smiled as well and fought to hold back the well of emotion that threatened to revisit him. As soon as he let go of Chris’ hand, Wade grabbed his brother and gave him the best man-hug he could. He couldn’t help but feel really damn good at this turn of events. He felt as if for once, everything was going perfectly.

  Wade knew the crowd had no idea what they were cheering at, but the ambience was one of new beginnings and they screamed at Heretic tirelessly.

  Before Chris broke away to go to her drums, Wade’s booming voice made her stop in her tracks.

  “Hey!” Wade called. She turned and he watched as her sleek black hair brushed past her lips and cheeks. “Don’t hold anything back!”

  Grinning from ear to ear, Chris unleashed another killer smile, knowing full well it was one of the first things he had ever said to her. She didn’t hold back then and she certainly wouldn’t start now.

  She pulled out her sticks and by then, her hands thrummed with the urge to connect to her drums. As soon as she sat down behind the drum kit, she rapped on the side of the cymbal and broke into the song that she first played for Heretic during her audition: Psychotic Episode.

  Of course, she didn’t stop there. She played one song after another for Heretic’s fans; Black War, Death Wish, Succumbed, Lunacy, she played them all. And she did it with her hair swinging in her face while her arms flailed from drum to snare, snare to cymbal, and cymbal to tom. No longer hindered or weighed down by the suffocating clothing she wore, Chris played better than she ever did in her life.

  At the same time, Wade, Joe, and Os electrified the atmosphere with their guitars as Wade screamed and growled well into the night.

  People yelled and even sang along with
Wade as dozens of hats, shoes, and other objects flew up on stage by fans of Heretic who wanted to show their fanatical love for their music. Security kept busy catching people who body surfed over the crowds and were thrown over the barriers. They came as close to the stage as they could with some even making it past security. When they got to Wade, he shook their hands in a congratulatory gusto.

  But Heretic didn’t stop tearing up the night until Chris made sure that she played her favorite song, saving it for last. Wet hair clung to her neck, and sweat poured down her back like a river but it didn’t bother her. Nothing would keep her from playing Live Dead.

  Muscles stinging from head to toe, Chris pounded on her drum set with as much energy and vigor as she did from their first song. She didn’t care if her forearms and shin went numb with pain. Her snakeskins delivered a good pain and that was how she liked it.

  As Chris slammed down one final time onto the drums, it signaled the end of a killer concert, but she wasn’t done. She got up from her seat and ran to the edge of the stage, drumsticks in tow. Fans reached for her, hoping she would throw something else, and she did.

  Chris reared back and threw her sticks, one after another, and sent them flying into the crowd. She clapped with excitement, seeing certain victorious fans fortunate enough to snag them and hold them high into the air. The rest of Heretic soon joined in, reaching into their pockets and flinging dozens of genuine guitar picks in every direction. It was a good night and it ended well. Heretic made history.

  Chris looked backstage and was amazed to see that standing next to Mike, her own father was hollering and cheering for her as well. She couldn’t remember the last time he was smiling and happy. She only wished her mother was there to see it.

  Heretic waved goodbye to adoring fans and when they walked offstage, Wade grabbed Chris by the waist, making her a permanent attachment to his arm. He may not have had a secret to protect anymore, but that didn’t stop him from holding her close.

  Wade and the rest of Heretic made the casual walk back to their bus, this time, safely escorted by security and Chris’ father. Despite the picture perfect turn of events, Wade still had a nagging question in the back of his mind. As Chris waved to adoring fans everywhere, Wade leaned in closer and had to yell in her ear.