When It Drops

by Alex Dyson

  Caleb tried to ignore it. Jai was doing his best to be casual, but Caleb could tell that making a good impression on these people was important to him. He was chatting enthusiastically with this Danzel character, which gave Caleb time to scan the room for any signs of Ella.

  Rachel wandered over with Nat at her side. His sister was dressed all in black, except for her hair (a bright, reinvigorated blue). Nathaniel was looking surprisingly respectable as well, except for his hair (a flowing, reinvigorated mullet). They both had lanyards around their necks, and Caleb was surprised to see Rachel was carrying a clipboard.

  ‘Nervous?’ she said.

  ‘Yep.’ Caleb kept his sentences as short as possible to limit the chances of vomit escaping. ‘Are you nervous?’

  ‘Oh man, totally. My first big event as a manager. If this goes badly, it’s going to be very difficult for both of us.’

  ‘Well, thanks. That’s settled my nerves.’

  ‘Caleb, your song’s cracked one million streams on Spotify – people are super excited about it! You’ll be great!’ She tapped him on the arm with her clipboard. Caleb already knew he’d cracked the one-million milestone, of course. He checked Spotify every eight minutes, after all. But it felt comforting to have it mentioned. The song would be doing the heavy lifting tonight.

  Rachel glanced at her clipboard.

  ‘What’s on that?’

  ‘Oh, nothing. This is just to look official. I’ve always wanted to be a clipboard-person – people respect you if you’re carrying one.’

  ‘How long ’til it starts?’ Nat finally interjected. ‘We’ve been here for ages!’

  ‘Why, are you bored?’ Rachel said. ‘Is manager’s assistant not good enough for you?’

  ‘It’d be fine if I was actually doing something,’ Nat grumbled.

  ‘Okay, what do you want to do then? Manager’s security guard? You could put your sunnies back on.’

  ‘Yes!’ Nat dug out his favourite new pair of ridiculous glasses. He folded his arms and glared around the room, attempting to look intimidating.

  Rachel turned back to Caleb. ‘Okay, now, you’re on super soon. I’ll go and grab the costume and meet you backstage in a few mins?’

  Caleb nodded. ‘Okay.’

  Rachel left, flanked by a crouching Nat, who had his arms outstretched beside her, making a barrier between her and the crowd.

  The room was packed now. Alongside the music industry people, there were a lot of Phresh FM competition winners: young girls and guys interspersed with the odd old rock-dog whose skin was withered and leathery from countless years under strobe lights. And despite the fact that in a matter of minutes he’d be standing in front of all these people, Caleb once again found himself worrying about just one.

  And there she was.

  Standing in the middle of the crowd beneath a green light, illuminated.

  Ella.

  Their eyes met. She smiled and waved. Caleb walked over.

  ‘Caleb, this is so cool!’

  Her enthusiasm buoyed him. ‘Yeah, I guess.’

  ‘So you’re going to be up on that stage?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Wow, I’m so nervous for you.’

  ‘I’m nervous for me too.’

  Ella laughed. ‘You’ll be fine. I believe in you.’ She touched his arm. It felt nice. ‘Are you going to sing?’

  ‘No, not tonight. I’m just using the audio samples and playing a drum pad. I don’t think I could say the words with you in the room.’

  ‘Why not? Don’t you feel that way anymore?’

  Caleb blushed. Ella was looking right into his eyes. The hum of the crowd around them seemed to quieten. ‘No – I mean, I do feel that way,’ he said. ‘Still ...’

  Ella looked down. It wasn’t the most positive body language. Caleb knew he shouldn’t bring it up now, but the moment was too raw, and he was too close to the subject they’d avoided while texting all week: Ella’s feelings.

  ‘Why, what do you feel?’

  Ella sighed. ‘It’s hard, I’ve been trying to come up with a way to tell you, but I didn’t really know how, it’s too awkward.’

  ‘It’s okay, if anyone knows about awkward, it’s me.’ Caleb reached out and touched Ella’s arm, attempting to recreate the same comfort she had given him. He was so close. Ella looked up at him.

  ‘It’s just that … I have a boyfriend.’

  The bottom fell out of Caleb’s ribcage. He stood there as a shell, an exoskeleton of himself, the interior now lost into a gaping Caleb Clifford chasm.

  ‘Oh,’ he managed to mumble.

  ‘Yeah, I mean, it’s kinda new, and I probably should have brought it up earlier, but the whole song thing came out of nowhere, and we were getting along again, so I didn’t want to ruin anything … but yeah, now you know …’

  Caleb was getting hot. How could this not have come up? How could he have misread the signs?

  ‘But … you sent me an “x”? On the end of your message?’

  ‘Yeah, I do that with all my friends.’

  This hit Caleb just as hard. ‘I should go get ready,’ he stammered.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m fine, it’s just … thanks for telling me.’

  Caleb started walking away.

  ‘Good luck!’ Ella yelled after him.

  ‘Where the hell have you been?!’ Jai said when Caleb finally appeared backstage.

  ‘Sorry, I –’

  ‘Jesus, you almost gave me a heart attack!’ Jai shook his head before composing himself. ‘It’s okay, it’s okay, just get a move on, otherwise you’ll miss the start of your set.’

  ‘Okay,’ Caleb said. Jai walked away, obviously not noticing the deep dose of utter devastation currently pumping through Caleb’s veins.

  I have a boyfriend. The four worst words in the English language. Caleb tried his best to calm down. While the world had ended, the night was not over. He had a gig to play to a packed room.

  And yet he felt entirely alone.

  A moment later, Rachel came into the backstage area holding up the black velvet costume.

  ‘Here! Chuck it on fast. You’re on in, like, two minutes.’

  Caleb did as he was told, Rachel helping when the fabric got stuck.

  ‘Where’s Nat?’ he asked.

  ‘Containing the perimeter, whatever that means,’ she said. ‘And now, the pièce de résistance.’ Rachel handed him the black mask.

  Caleb sighed and put it on, but the plastic dug into the bridge of his nose and made it hard to see. He looked in the mirror above the sink. The best way to describe how he looked? A kind of flamboyant Batman.

  ‘You look like an evil court jester,’ Rachel said, which was probably even more accurate.

  ‘Is that how I’m supposed to look?’ asked Caleb.

  ‘Um … I dunno. I just imagined it different on? The shoulder swoops are like, really … swoopy.’

  ‘I don’t think I can wear the mask,’ Caleb said, struggling to adjust it. ‘I can’t see anything.’

  ‘Whatever you think. We better head out.’

  Caleb removed the mask and took one last look at his getup. He realised he needed Miralee there. She’d be able to give him the fashion advice he was in desperate need of now – and probably a few of her customary positive affirmations as well.

  But there wasn’t time to dwell on it. He followed Rachel to the side stage area where his old pals Timmy and the Penguin were standing.

  ‘Hey, mate, good to see you again, how’re you feeling?’ Timmy said.

  Caleb felt like vomiting. He didn’t answer.

  ‘Okay … well, hold tight, mate, Penguin and I will warm up the crowd for you.’

  Timmy gave the thumbs-up to a guy behind a sound desk. The lights dimmed in the front of the room, eliciting a whoop from the gathered masses.

  The radio hosts walked up to the front of the stage. ‘How is everyone doing tonight!!!!?!??!?!?!?!?!’

  The num
ber of exclamation and question marks here really doesn’t do justice to the enthusiasm Timmy gave this sentence as he grabbed the microphone from the stand. The crowd gave a relatively enthusiastic ‘whoop’.

  ‘Are you ready for another PH-PH-PH-PHRESH discovery?’ enquired the Penguin, lumbering onto the stage behind Timmy. The gratuitous number of PHs in his sentence also doesn’t truly represent just how much emphasis Penguin put on repeating the sound; cue another mild ‘whoop’ from the crowd.

  ‘Tell me, just how fresh is the music going to be tonight, Penguin?’

  ‘So, SO fresh, Timmy. Fresh as a mama emperor penguin’s meal for its baby chick.’

  Timmy re-enacted a mother penguin feeding its child, simulating the regurgitation of fresh fish into a waiting Penguin’s open mouth. The room fell silent, minus the gurgling sounds from the stage.

  It was awkward.

  ‘Okay, enough hilarity,’ said Timmy. ‘Let’s bring up the reason we are all here tonight. A trio of brand-new artists, the freshest finds in the country, to blow your collective minds! First up is a local boy who is about to explode all around the world. You’ll know him from his earworm “Ella”. He’s one of our most recent PHRESH FINDS. Please, make some noise for BVTTONNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!’

  This was it. He had to put everything aside and just get up there and perform. He began to move, but could barely make it up the three steps to the stage, such was the weight in his legs. He shielded his eyes from the intensity of the stage lights, his stomach making a gurgling noise similar to that of Timmy’s regurgitating penguin impression. Surprisingly, among all of this, Caleb heard another sound. A cheer. Whooping and clapping accompanied his walk from the side of the stage up to the table that held his gear. It made him feel the tiniest bit better. Gave him just enough confidence to not turn and run when he saw the faces awaiting him. Hundreds of faces, now bathed in a soft, green light. There was joy in their eyes. Expectation.

  Caleb looked down at his gear.

  Let’s get this over with.

  Despite the obvious shake in his hands when he held the drumsticks, the first song went off without a hitch. Sure, it went off without a bang as well, but Caleb would take breaking even at this point. He refused to look at the crowd; he didn’t want to accidentally see Ella. Instead, he kept his head down and pretended he was back in his bedroom. The shoulder flares of his costume bounced a bit when he played, but he dealt with it. The final note ended and the gathered masses gave a polite clap. There may have been one ‘Yewwww’ in there as well, but Caleb wasn’t sure. The next tune called for even more sample pad. The finger shakes gave him a few nervous moments, but again, the song began and ended without a major disaster. Having said that, the ethereal tones of his next song, ‘Minute’, only extracted a mild golf-clap from the crowd. They were running out of steam.

  It’s okay, Caleb thought. Only three songs to go. Luckily, ‘Total Swarm’ managed to get a few heads moving. Well, Caleb sensed a bit more movement. The second-last song, ‘Cityscape’, passed like a dream. He hoped people were enjoying it. It was up to the final three chords when it happened.

  A task box had appeared on his laptop, getting in the way of his Ableton interface. Caleb had been ignoring it, but as the song finished, he hit ENTER to remove it so he could move on to the final track. The only track people knew – the ‘hit single’, ‘Ella’.

  It was, quite probably, the biggest mistake Caleb had ever made in his life, including the time he ate Vegemite thinking it would taste nice.

  INSTALLING UPDATES, the computer said.

  The hourglass started rotating and then, suddenly, Caleb’s screen went black. Silence echoed through the room. People cheered; it was near enough to the end of the song that he supposed they thought it was meant to end like that.

  Sweat started to cascade from Caleb’s pits. He swore he could hear it trickle. The lights were hot. So hot. The faces stared up in anticipation. The screen was so black. The silence so loud. A loading screen appeared: Initialising, 3 per cent complete.

  Caleb stood bolted to the spot. Surely not now. He couldn’t install updates now!! Without a functioning laptop, nothing would play. He was just a kid, wearing velvet, standing on a silent stage.

  People were getting restless. He was pretty sure someone yelled, ‘Play “Ella”!’ That person had no idea Caleb’s brain was yelling the same thing.

  Come on, come on!

  Updates, 4 per cent complete. There was no way he could stand in silence for this long. Another mini cheer went up, as if to emphasise that nothing was happening. Caleb knew he couldn’t wait any longer. So he did the only thing he could.

  He walked offstage.

  Out of the lights, and out of the piercing gaze of the crowd. Better to call it now than stand around like an idiot for twenty minutes and wait for his computer to boot up. Sure, he didn’t play ‘Ella’, but he’d got most of the way through. People would understand.

  As soon as he stepped backstage, Jai was in his face.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ he hissed. He grabbed Caleb’s arm and pulled him towards the stage, where a surprised Timmy and the Penguin had jumped back up.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, please thank BVTTON!’ The smallest of claps echoed around the venue. You could hear the confused chatter permeate the space, the low hum stinging Caleb’s ears. ‘Where’s “Ella”?’ and ‘Whaddabout “Ella”!’

  ‘Well?’ Jai’s eyes were wider than Caleb had ever seen them.

  ‘The computer, it shut down … updates,’ was all Caleb was able to stammer.

  ‘What’s going on? Caleb, are you okay?’ Rachel said, hurrying to his side.

  ‘He’s fine,’ snapped Jai. ‘Get back up there and finish. Pretend it’s an encore or something.’

  They were standing just to the side of the stage and, past the curtain, Caleb could see eyes in the front row looking at him. He was hot. It was loud. Maybe he should just go back? ‘Um, well, thanks very much, BVTTON! Are you ready for your next act, people?’ Timmy said.

  A confused cheer rang out.

  ‘Please, make her feel welcome – Greta Stanley!’

  Jai’s hand was still wrapped around Caleb’s upper arm, pushing him towards the stage.

  ‘I can’t! They just announced …’ Caleb stammered.

  ‘FUCK! Un-fucking-believable.’ Jai slapped his own head. The lights dimmed again as the next act walked on. Caleb felt sick. Like there was a school of carp swimming in his guts.

  ‘It’s okay, Caleb.’ Rachel pulled him in for a hug. ‘You were great, you really were. Don’t worry about it.’ His sister patted his head like he was a baby.

  ‘Jesus Christ, not this again,’ Jai said, exasperated.

  ‘Listen, it’s not his fault, Jai. It was the computer, wasn’t it, Cale?’

  Caleb nodded. He wanted to push Rachel off him, but seemed unable to let go.

  ‘The computer? For fuck’s sake, do you know how much time and money went into organising this spot?’

  Caleb wanted to protest, but couldn’t fault Jai’s argument. ‘I’m sorry,’ is all he managed to say.

  ‘Sorry? What good is sorry!’

  Caleb had never seen Jai this way before. He was fuming. There was an intensity in his eyes that terrified him.

  Rachel tried to speak up. ‘Jai, listen, it’s fine, we can bounce back from this. I’ll make some calls –’

  ‘Oh, you’ll make some calls, will you? Who will you call? You don’t know anyone, Rachel! Who the hell is going to listen to you?’

  Rachel tried to stammer an answer, but Caleb could tell Jai’s words cut her deep. She looked at the ground. Caleb did the same. They were both making themselves as small as possible, but Jai wasn’t finished.

  ‘Make some calls – you’re both fucking useless. If only I –’

  But he was cut off by an extremely loud yell. A yell that boomed from the edge of backstage area. A yell that emanated from a small but majestically mulleted head –


  ‘Oi, ya dickhead!’

  Jai turned around to face the interjector.

  Nathaniel Montgomery Clifford was wearing his sunnies, arms crossed tight. And he seemed displeased. ‘Don’t talk to my family like that.’

  If Nat were maybe eight or ten years older, he might have looked intimidating. But right now, he came up to Jai’s chest.

  ‘Who the hell are you?’

  ‘I’m security,’ Nat said firmly, crossing his arms once more.

  Jai scoffed. ‘Mate, fuck off, I can talk like this to whoever I – UUUUUHHHHHHHNNNGGGGGG!’

  Jai’s breath burst from his throat right at the moment Nat’s foot impacted his testicles. He hunched over, wheezing. ‘You. Little. SHIT!’

  Caleb understood why Jai yelled so loudly, but in hindsight, Jai probably shouldn’t have. For one, according to studies, straining your voice past its natural speaking volume can lead to permanent vocal cord damage. Oh, and also, if you yell loudly a real security guard standing nearby might turn around just in time to witness you punch a fourteen-year-old boy in the face.

  Nat was still standing. He took the hit like a champion, to be honest. It almost looked like Jai’s fist bounced right off him – until he brought his hand up to his mouth to catch the small, white object that was falling out.

  Jai looked at Nat. Caleb looked at Jai. Nat looked at the real security guard, then back at Caleb. Then –

  ‘Wahhhhhhhhh!’

  Nat held his mouth and whined the whine of a thousand whines before crumpling to the floor.

  Jai stepped back, palms up. ‘I, no, I was just –’ was all he managed to get out before the security guard crash-tackled him.

  Rachel pulled Caleb out of the way as the security guard marched Jai past the bewildered patrons and out of the venue. Nat kept yelling in pain, but Caleb was sure he saw his brother peek between the fingers covering his face. The next act started playing loudly over the speakers. A cheer went up. And all this time, Ella Westlake had a boyfriend.

  Rachel spun Caleb around. ‘Stay with Nat – don’t go anywhere,’ she snapped, before running after a protesting Jai.

  Caleb didn’t need to be told. After all this, when it came to music, he certainly wasn’t going anywhere.