Bullet

by Jamison, Jade C.

  I nodded, even though it was only for my benefit. “Yeah. I think so.”

  We planned to make it work. Brad showed up Friday evening with Zane in tow. Zane was feeling stir crazy and wanted to come along. I had a suitcase crammed full of everything I thought I’d need (including plenty of cash) and off we went. We stopped and got Taco Bell as we drove through Colorado Springs. Brad sped like crazy, and I was afraid we were going to get pulled over, but we were lucky. After we ate, the three of us sang several of our songs, and both guys were impressed with what I’d learned.

  Zane said, “I like some of the things you’re doing kinda different from the douchebags who were singin’ before.”

  Brad flipped him off without saying a word. It was still light out, so I was able to see they were both just kidding around with each other.

  I hadn’t thought to ask until we were on our way where I would be staying, but I thought it might be good to ask now.

  “Oh, yeah. Ethan said, since you’d stayed at his house before and you knew his mom pretty well already, you could sleep on his couch.”

  I was surprised to find I was still pissed at Ethan, but as soon as Brad mentioned that he had been so good to volunteer his place, I felt the anger flare a little. “It wouldn’t be imposing on his busy social life, would it?”

  Zane said, completely deadpan, “You know about that?”

  Before I could retort or even get an upset look on my face, Brad said, “He’s just fuckin’ with you, Val. Ethan really did mean it as a nice gesture.” He made sure his eyes stayed on the road when he said, “But if you’re not comfortable there, you’re always welcome at my place. I know my mom wouldn’t have a problem with it.”

  Yes, but he hadn’t offered initially, and I didn’t want to impose. I loved Ethan’s mom, so Ethan’s place it would be. Besides, it was only for one night.

  It turned out that June wasn’t there, but the three guys wound up staying up late watching a movie and drinking, and I dozed off on the couch anyway. When I awoke the next morning, my shoes were off, my head was on a pillow, and I was covered with a sheet. Brad was spread out in one of the chairs and Zane was on the floor, a pillow from the couch scrunched up under his head.

  I sat up and stretched, wondering how long they’d been up. Ethan was nowhere to be found, so I guessed he was in his own bed sleeping. Since I’d been a guest there before, I knew where the shower and towels were, so I got myself ready for the day, but when I was done, everyone else was still asleep.

  I sat back on the couch and rested my head on the back, just running the songs through my head. Yes, I had this. I needed to just trust myself. And once I would run through them a time or two to live music, I’d have the confidence needed to front the band. I’d seen enough concerts, both live and recorded, to know that the vocalist was typically the performer who would make or break the show. A frontman (or woman, in this case) was the one who was usually the most mobile. I’d have to interact with the audience; I’d have to move all over the stage and shine some light on each performer at multiple opportunities. I was responsible for infusing our show with energy. The guys just had to play. I knew a lot weighed on my shoulders, and I hoped I was up for it. I was just grateful I’d have the chance to practice a couple of times live, because I was sure it wouldn’t be like singing along to a prerecorded song. There were variables with live music, and that’s what made it good, but that’s what also made me want to run through the show once or twice, just so I knew what I was doing and had some confidence. I still wouldn’t be perfect, but I’d be relaxed in the knowledge that we, as a group, worked well together.

  That was what I was most nervous about too (aside from just feeling inexperienced)—remembering the order we would do the songs in. Brad had sent the playlist to me in a text. Maybe I’d just have to know what song was next by hearing the music, and I knew after doing the show a few times, I’d just know, just like I knew on a CD which song came next after listening to it several times, or I’d remember the order of songs on my iPod after listening to the same list for weeks. It was just something I knew I’d remember once I’d settled in.

  I was making myself sick with worry, and I just wanted the guys to wake up so we could get on with it. I wasn’t hungry, so I just got a drink of water and, finally, I turned on the television with the volume low, hoping the sound would stir the guys in the living room. There was no sign of booze around, so I knew they’d had the presence of mind to clean up after themselves. I hoped that also meant no hangovers this morning. I considered letting them sleep late to be sure, but my nerves overruled any sense of empathy I might have had.

  I started flipping through channels. I really wasn’t in the mood to watch anything, but I needed to be distracted for a while. I stopped on a channel that showed two women redecorating an apartment using junk store finds. After fifteen minutes of the show (and I hadn’t turned it up louder), I saw Brad stirring. Zane had rolled over when I first turned on the TV, and I wondered how the hell he could sleep on the floor like that.

  I glanced over at Brad, but his eyes were still closed, so I looked back at the show. Then I heard him say in a high-pitched voice, “Oh, my God! Doesn’t this lamp have so much potential?”

  He was making fun of the show. I glanced over at him, and his eyes were still closed, but he had a smile on his face. “I thought you were sleeping.”

  He opened his eyes. “Who can sleep through this riveting programming?”

  I giggled. “What else was I supposed to do while you guys were getting your beauty rest?”

  He sat up and stretched his neck. “You trying to tell me this is the only shit you could find?”

  I got up and handed him the remote. “I just wanted something to do while I waited for you guys. I want to practice.”

  He looked at me then, those dark eyes of his understanding. “Val, you’ll be fine. We’ll have a goddamn blast and make a little cash while we’re at it. It’s cool.”

  I took a deep breath and smiled. I nodded my head. “When can we start?”

  That’s when he stood up. “First, we gotta get these lazy motherfuckers up.” He walked over to Zane and nudged him with the tip of his boot. “Hey, man…we got a vocalist here itching to try us out.”

  Zane muttered something into the pillow but started moving. Brad wasn’t wasting any time, though. He strode to the bottom of the stairs and shouted up. “Ethan! Get your ass out of bed!”

  “I’m up.”

  “Hurry up. Val’s chomping at the bit here.”

  Ethan opened his bedroom door, so I could hear him better. “Gimme five minutes to shower.”

  Brad walked back to the living room. “Did you hear all that?” I nodded. “Feel better?”

  I smiled a little and nodded, but no, I didn’t feel better…not yet. But this was a good start.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “GODDAMMIT. WHAT THE fuck are you doing, Nick?” Ethan was pissed. He and Nick had been going back and forth for the last hour, bickering over stupid stuff. Ethan had accused Nick of doing something funky with the percussion. I couldn’t understand his exact issue, so I just shut my mouth. But Ethan really jumped on him this time.

  I’d been giving it my all, but I was starting to worry. We sucked. We totally sucked. I knew they had to be already regretting asking me aboard. While Ethan and Nick were settling their shit, Brad stood by me and placed his hand on my shoulder. “You’re doing a great job, Val, but don’t sing at top capacity. You need to save your voice for tonight. No need to impress us. Just do what you gotta do to feel comfortable, and drink lots of water.”

  I took the hint and grabbed my bottle of water off the floor and had another swig while Ethan told Nick he was fucking up the song. I still wasn’t convinced that I was doing a great job, but I tried to not worry. Brad said, “Shut the fuck up, guys. Work through it. Val wants to go through the set twice, and we’re never gonna get it done if you keep this shit up.” Ethan wasn’t budging, though. He was over
at the drum kit hovering, and Nick was standing too, puffing out his chest. Nick might have been a quiet guy, but he wasn’t backing down from Ethan’s challenge.

  Brad walked over and pulled Ethan away. He wasn’t forceful or anything, and I wasn’t really sure how he’d managed it, but he got Ethan to back off. Before Ethan had completely returned to position, Brad said, “This practice isn’t for you guys. It’s for Val. Let’s give her what she needs.”

  We did get through the set once, but then I was ready to cry. We sounded awful. Brad, seeming to be a natural-born leader, told us we needed a break. We could all go out for lunch, or we could take a break apart. If we needed a little time away from each other, that was fine, but we had to be ready to work together…at least tonight, if nothing else.

  Brad offered to buy, so all the guys decided to go together. I’d just about had all the testosterone I could stand, but I thought it was important that I be with them, especially if we were to bond as a band. None of the guys seemed to have a beef with me; they just couldn’t get along amongst themselves. And maybe that was just preshow tension. I hoped so. My dreams of enjoying myself this summer were fast fading. No way could I stand this kind of behavior for that long.

  But the second rehearsal was much better. I wasn’t sure why, but Ethan seemed a lot mellower. I couldn’t be certain, but I thought maybe he had a little chemical help with calming down. Whatever the case, after we finished, we packed up the van. Brad said there were sometimes places to get ready at the venues and sometimes not. He said if I planned on wearing something else, I might want to dress before we left, so I did. I figured I could do my makeup on the way. I pulled out of my bag what I thought would be the perfect outfit for my first night on stage…tight faux leather pants (something I already owned) and a fitted red super-short sleeved t-shirt. I’d seen a woman in a band wearing one that she’d cut horizontally across the back in about one or two centimeter strips, and I think it was to show off all the tattoos on her back. I just thought it was a cool grungy look. So I had done something similar, only I ripped it and made some holes in it, but mostly on the back. I put a few smaller holes around the tummy area in front. Yeah, I had no tats, but I hoped it looked cool. I left my hair down. I’d also put on a pair of big black Dr. Martens boots I’d had for a few years. They were perfect, and I’d worn them to many a metal concert, so why not onstage too?

  The guys liked my look. I knew I’d match them, having seen them onstage before. But I wasn’t ready for their reactions. “Val, you look great.” That was Nick’s response. His was more subdued than the rest.

  Zane: “God, you look hot.”

  Brad: “Nice…I like the skin.” Yeah…he’d already seen most of that.

  Ethan: “We gonna have to beat the guys off with a stick?” And he didn’t seem like he was joking about that or happy either. Like I cared.

  Ethan planned to ride shotgun to Denver, but Brad told him quite emphatically that I was to ride next to him. “That seat belongs to our muse.” I’d heard them call me that before, but I couldn’t remember when. And Ethan was fuming about my sitting up front again. Still, though, I could tell he was low key, and I was convinced he’d had a little pharmaceutical help with that. I planned to ask one of the guys later—maybe even the next day—if they knew what was going on with him.

  On the trip there, we tried to laugh and joke, but I was nervous. Brad turned up the music off and on, I think to try to get my mind off it. But it didn’t help. It was even worse feeling like our rehearsals had stunk.

  Brad stopped in Colorado Springs at Burger King and urged us to get something to eat. I told him I was too nervous.

  “Val…if you don’t eat, you’re not gonna have the energy you need. Eat something.” So I got one of their chicken sandwiches and fries and managed to eat half before I decided I was done.

  And the closer we got to Denver, the more nervous I got. I can barely remember unpacking the van and setting up. We were slated as the first act of the evening, and I don’t know if that helped or not. Knowing I could get it over with sooner was good, but I don’t know that I’d ever been that nervous about anything in my entire life. Various limbs on my body were either numb or tingly due to an overdose of adrenaline.

  Once we were set up, all the guys were checking their instruments. I stood off stage, not ready to put myself out there. We still had fifteen minutes before show time, and the place was filling up. It made the big bar in Winchester look like a bathroom.

  I tried pacing but didn’t know that it helped either, so I just stood with my back against the wall near the stairs. Ethan started walking my way, still wearing his guitar strapped over his body. He stopped in front of me. Before he said anything, I examined his eyes. I thought maybe now he was sober, but I couldn’t be sure. He seemed lucid. “Are you gonna be okay?”

  “Yeah…” Really, though, I wasn’t too sure.

  With one smooth motion, he pushed his guitar so that the strap carried it around to hang on his back, and then he put his hands around my waist. “You’ll do fine, Val.” And then he kissed me. At first, I was taken aback and unsure, but then I gave in. In the short time we’d dated—and even more recently—Ethan had never kissed me like this. His kisses, while thrilling, had never been full of unbridled passion and promise. But this one was. This kiss was deep and hard, and he held nothing back, and it completely took me out of the moment. One second I was freaking out about the upcoming performance and the next I was transported. So when he stopped, it took me a moment to open my eyes and let myself come back to the present.

  But he wasn’t done. I don’t know if it was because of the look in my eyes or the expression on my entire face, the one of having had my breath taken away, but he kissed me again then and nearly knocked me down. I might have been in shock the first time and frozen, but the second time I was thawed and moving. I wound my fingers into the hair at his temples and let him have me. For the first time since he’d walked away from me, I felt myself at his mercy again. And just like that, he was completely forgiven and back in my good graces. I shouldn’t have made it that easy, but he just so happened to give me what I needed in that vulnerable moment, and I responded.

  This time when the kiss ended, he again waited for me to open my eyes. And then Ethan was like a new person to me. Gone were all the bitter, angry feelings I’d had pent up about him over the last few months. It was as though none of that had ever happened. He said, “You gonna be okay?”

  My voice was barely a whisper. “Yeah.”

  He nodded and smiled and then let go of me and walked back onstage. I just watched him, and then I saw Brad looking over at me. I didn’t know if he’d seen any of it, but I couldn’t even bring myself to smile.

  And then it hit me. I went straight outside and threw up what I’d eaten at dinner.

  * * *

  It was a blur, and to this day, I don’t remember everything about my first real show. I can remember some details, but big chunks are almost missing from my memory. That was my brain’s way of dealing with it. My voice was a little shaky on the first verse of the first song, but I let the music take over and guide me. And it did. Throw into that a frenzied crowd moshing and headbanging at my feet, and suddenly I was part of the concert too, just having a good time.

  And our earlier rehearsals were no indication of how we’d perform. Suddenly, we were on; we were in sync, and we were smooth. I didn’t hear a single bad note or mistimed drum beat. To boot, it was almost like we could psychically read each other. And it was only our first show. As we walked off stage to cheers and whistles, I wondered what more time together would do for us. I still didn’t quite feel like I was a full-fledged member of the band, even though a good many of the words I’d been singing were mine. I felt like I had to grow with them; this concert was the first step. After all the stress, worry, and nerves, I was now ready for more. I wanted to see how we would evolve together. I wanted to enjoy the crowds, the feeling of the music flowing through my body as I
belted out the tune. I looked forward to relishing the moment.

  That night, we went to a cheap ass hotel. Brad had already explained to me that once he paid the last of the expenses (and that was usually the hotel room and he’d hold back some for gas), he’d split up what was left among the band. I went in with him and told him I had to get my own room. “That’ll double the cost, Val. We’ll make sure you have your own bed.”

  The clerk said, “We can get you a cot. Then you’ll have three beds.”

  I considered it. I really did. But I knew these guys would get rowdy and party, and if any of them picked up girls like they often did, I did not want to have to try to sleep through it. Then there was the sticky issue of sharing a shower and all that good stuff. So I pulled the goody-two-shoes card. “I promised my dad, Brad. My dad.”

  He looked at me and sighed. “All right.”

  “But I’ll pay for it. I don’t want to cut into our earnings.”

  “Fuck that.” He glanced over at the clerk who just smiled. “Oh, sorry.” He looked back at me. “No way. You keep doing what you did tonight, you’ll be earning that goddamned room.” He looked back at the clerk again, this time not apologizing for cursing and said, “I guess two rooms. One a double, the other a single. Any way you can get them close to each other?”

  The clerk tapped on the old computer in front of her and said, “Yeah. Next door.”

  After Brad paid and we had the keys, we started walking back to the van. “At least if we’re next to each other, there’s less chance of neighbors complaining about a noisy party.”

  I raised my eyebrows and kept as straight a face as I could. “That’s what you think.”

  We got set up in our rooms, and the guys pulled the liquor out almost immediately, making me glad I’d insisted on my own room. There were no girls tonight (yet), but the men were going to be rowdy. I enjoyed some time with them, though, until I was too tired to stay awake anymore. But the guys assured me they were happy with their decision to bring me on board. Ethan said, “Val, Brad and I were okay on vocals, but you blow us out of the water. You’re exactly what we needed.”