Broken Strings (A Rock Star Novel)

by Brynn O'Connor

  I wouldn’t have said anything, but I’m actually kinda glad she did. All afternoon Lunatics old and young alike stop by to whisper words of encouragement to me. If they only knew what I am about to do, if they only knew…

  I accept the kind words while Gabby fills them in on the latest news of his progress; which isn’t much. He is still in ICU, in a coma, and struggling to hang on. Each person that wishes him well, via me, brings new Brand memories to mind. It’s weird, I haven’t known him all that long, but I really feel like we had something special and now that he’s…well he’s in this condition, I feel that even stronger. I don’t know for sure, but I think he felt the same. It sucks that I don’t know for sure…and may never know.

  By the time 6 rolls around, the typical time for the doors to open, I have had my fill of Brand well-wishers. I am touched by some, and not by others. Some it seems are just jumping on the get well soon Brand, bandwagon. Luckily, while we're waiting Stewart comes strolling down the line to join the ranks of well-wishers.

  “Hey uh…Stew, how’d you know I was looking for you?”

  “I didn’t. Hey I’m real sorry about your friend. I want you to know that the band and I will be thinking of him and we all wish him a speedy recovery.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “So you’re looking for me?”

  “Sure, Silas asked me to extend you and your two friends an invitation to come backstage after the show.”

  I nearly fall over in my tracks. This could not be any more perfect.

  “You mentioned you were looking for me?” Stewart asks.

  “Huh? Oh yeah, I wanted to ask about Silas actually.” I say blushing.

  “Wish granted.”

  “Yeah, thanks. I was hoping to finish the story Brand was writing on the band since it doesn’t look like he’ll make his deadline.”

  “Hey, anything we can do to help, you just let us know. In fact, which hospital is he in? And what’s his room number? We’d like to send something just so he knows we’re thinking about him.”

  “Wow…uh, it’s Highland Hospital in Oakland, room 3027 S.”

  “Great, now I’d better get back before they open the doors. Oh, here’s your passes. I guess you’ll just need two now? Or is there someone else you’d like to invite?”

  “Two’s fine,” I answer without thinking. That little move garners me more than a few nasty looks from the Lunatics that had been gathering around ever since Stewart has been talking to us.

  “Wait a second,” I say. “I guess I could use another pass after all.”

  Stewart happily gives me the third pass that would have been Brand’s. “What was the focus of his article going to be, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Now we get into some sticky territory here. Of course the truth here just won’t due so I’ve gotta come up with something doable. “I think he wanted to do a general story about Fringe’s rise to the top of the metal genre; something like that.”

  “Great, as long as it’s not that damned Get the Dirt crap! I saw him talking to Hammer and Marcus a lot. Are they going to be the focus of his article?”

  I almost cringe at his remark about the contest. I had no idea he would even be aware of it.

  “Actually I think he really wanted to focus on Silas. He followed the whole thing about what happened to Myles Ketter and he really wanted to get a sense of who Silas is and what he brings to the band…I think. I really just want to put together a great story for him and I probably won’t get to talk to him again to find out what his plans really were. I’m just making educated guesses here.”

  “Well, Silas wants…we want to help. I’ll instruct the band to talk to you and answer any questions you have. I believe I have already told you Silas is my nephew so if you need more information than you can get out of the man himself I’ll happily fill you in.”

  I can feel my face beginning to get warm. These guys are bending over backwards to help Brand and me and what I’m really gonna do is stab them in the back.

  “You okay June?” Gabby’s looking at me funny.

  “Huh…oh yeah. I was just thinking about Brand lying there in a coma while I’m here doing his assignment, one he’d kill to be doing right now instead of me.”

  “Well I think it’s amazing what you’re trying to do for him. You’re like the perfect girlfriend June.”

  “Hey girls, I really gotta get back before they open the gates so I guess I’ll see you both after the show. And I really mean it, if you want to know anything about the band or Silas in particular, ask me.”

  Face is burning again. “Thanks so much Stewart, Brand would have really appreciated it.”

  “Any time girls,” he says over his shoulder as he leaves.

  Suddenly there’s a jostling all around me as girls and a few guys seem to be queuing up to get the other backstage pass. I was really meaning to save it and give it to Brand as a gift from the band but maybe I better just give it away before I get lynched.

  “What are you going to do with that pass?” Gabby wants to know.

  "I'm going to give it to Brand, as a present from the band." I admit.

  “Are you serious June?” She hisses in my ear. “We’ll…you’ll get lynched. Look at this crowd.”

  I look. They all look hostile to me. Nobody looks happy. They just look like a bunch of rabid fans willing to do anything for a backstage pass. This must be exactly how I look most of the time I’m at a Fringe show; that’s scary.

  “Well what do you think Gabbs? How am I gonna give it away and still not get hurt in the process?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I was trying to signal you to turn down the offer for the third pass.”

  “So that’s what you were doing then? I just thought it was constipation.”

  “Very funny. I’m serious here June. This is going to get nasty!”

  She’s right. The doors have been opened and as we make our way up to the front we’re being jostled around by hostile Lunatics and not everything that’s being said or offered is kind.

  “Bitch is just gonna keep it for herself!” Someone guesses out loud.

  “Obviously she’s whoring for the manager,” suggests another girl.

  “Give it up bitch before we take it off your body!” Shouts a voice from somewhere behind us.

  We’re almost up to the doors. I look at Gabby. “Hey, when I say go, just run for the doors.”

  “Oh I don’t know about this…”

  I look towards the doors. We’re only about twenty feet. We’ll just run up there and the security guys there will…should keep us from getting lynched. It’s the only plan I can think of.

  A very large girl steps up to me. “Let’s just take it from her!” She yells.

  I throw the extra pass back over her head as far as I can.

  “Run!” I scream at Gabby, and I duck under the behemoth’s outstretched arms and sprint for the safety of the entrance doors.

  I don’t dare look behind me. I can hear a loud commotion as Lunatics are fighting for the pass. I really didn’t think this through. I just made a host of enemies, ones that I’m going to see for the next fifteen shows; that is if I go to all the ones I have tickets for.

  I reach the front doors completely out of breath. I turn around fully expecting to be facing an angry throng but it looks like everyone’s still fighting over the pass. I’m glad to see Gabby made it too. Before the other Lunatics can get angry we stand aside and allow the others to go in until we get to the girls that were standing near our spots in the line.

  “Man are you in trouble,” one of the girls offers as the guards are searching her.

  “Sorry, I just couldn’t think of a fair way to giving it away.”

  “You should probably watch your back tonight. There’s gonna be some really pissed off Lunatics gunning for you tonight.”

  What a disaster this has been. I give the girl an apologetic look. “Hey could we squeeze in here before the others catch up to us?”

  “
Yeah sure,” she begins. “I don’t wanna get stuck in the middle of a riot.”

  “Thanks so much!” I say.

  Gabby and I quickly present our tickets to the guards and we rush inside to safety; for the moment at least.

  By the time we make our way to a good spot in the general admission section, the lights are pretty dim. Maybe they won’t recognize me. I have a grey hoodie I’ve been carrying around, and even though it’s a little warm, I decide to put it on, hood pulled up. Maybe with this on I won’t be recognized.

  I ask Gabby and she confirms, in the dim light I look pretty different, and when the lights go the rest of the way down nobody’s going to be able to pick me out of a crowd.

  For the first time ever, I don’t really enjoy the show all that much. The entire time I find myself just waiting for the finale.

  As we make our way to the backstage doors I am finally able to relax.

  I turn to Gabby to express my relief when my face explodes in pain and my vision begins to flee. Automatically my hands fly to my face and almost immediately I feel like a battering ram has just slammed into my stomach.

  When I hit the ground I find myself gasping for air. I can’t breathe! As I struggle to get to my knees someone kicks me in the ribs knocking me on my back. Pain shoots through my side and all over my head as more kicks are colliding with my unprotected body, and the worst part is I can't see or breathe.

  Suddenly it gets very quiet and I just feel numb all over. As my breath gradually returns I get the sensation that I’m rocking, like on a boat or something, rocking side to side then back and forth. It’s very dark and quiet here. At least the pain is gone.

  “June!”

  “June, wake up!” That sounds like Gabby. She’s shouting my name from very far away.

  “June…wake up.” She’s getting closer. “June can you hear me? How do you feel?”

  I groan and I realize I’m lying on something. I open my eyes and see a bunch of concerned faces looking down at me. There’s my best friend Gabby, there’s Stewart, and there’s Silas and the rest of the band, and everyone’s got this same kind of worried look of concern on their faces.

  Judging from their expressions I must look a mess. I make a move to sit up and pain shoots around in my head like a lightning storm is taking place behind my eyes. I close them and wait for the pain to subside; it does a little.

  “Here, take this.” A man with a stethoscope around his neck and a worried expression on his face extends me two tablets and a small plastic bottle of water.

  “What are they?” I ask.

  “Ibuprofen. They’ll help with the pain.”

  “Who are you?”

  “My name’s Tim, I’m a paramedic working for the venue tonight.”

  Gratefully I accept the pills and with some difficulty am able to swallow them while still lying down. I close my eyes again and wait for the medication to do its magic.

  “June…earth to June…”

  I hear Gabby’s sing-song voice calling to me. I get the sense that I’ve been sleeping. I also feel a hell of a lot better too.

  “Yeah I’m here,” I reply. “I need to sit up, can you help me?”

  I feel strong arms under mine, lifting my upper body. They swing me around to where I’m sitting now on a couch. I look at the faces around me and start to giggle.

  “What’s so funny?” Gabby wants to know.

  “You guys all look like you just lost your best friend or something.”

  “Well I don’t know about these guys,” Gabby begins, “but I was pretty sure a minute ago that I had just lost my best friend.”

  Slowly I look around me. We’re definitely back stage but where are the people? “Where’s everybody Gabbs?”

  “Stewart threw them all out. You know, since we don’t know who did this to you we didn’t want to risk inviting back the people who beat on you.”

  I look around till I make eye contact with the band’s manager. “Thanks Stew!”

  “It’s my fault really. I should never have given you that extra pass. I should have known it would cause trouble. I’m so so very sorry June.”

  “We’re all sorry June.”

  My heart skips a beat. There’s that dreamy voice that belongs to Silas. Despite my condition my body begins to react. Goose bumps travel up and down my arms and I can feel a tingling up and down my spine and my head feels light and airy. How am I supposed to interview the guy when my body keeps behaving this way? Maybe if I could separate my head from the rest of me I would be able to concentrate...

  They’re all talking about my attack and how they can’t believe a Lunatic would ever behave like this. They obviously don’t know anything about their fans. What do they expect; this is a metal concert, not a Taylor Swift show. People are gonna be crazy!

  “And nothing is broken as far as I can tell, but you should probably go get yourself checked out anyway.” Tim the paramedic is talking again. With an effort I drag my attention away from Silas and focus on Tim.

  “I’ll be fine,” I say. “I’m actually a paramedic at Highland Hospital. I work in the ER there so when I go back to work Wednesday I’ll get myself checked out if I still feel like shit.”

  “Oh you’re going to feel like shit alright,” Tim says. “You took quite a beating. You’re going to feel worse tomorrow. In fact you’re probably going to be in some pain for four or five days or more. If for no other reason, you should probably get a prescription for the pain you’re going to feel over the next two or three days.”

  “Great, just great.”

  Stewart comes over and hands me three passes. They look different that the other ones I’ve seen. One thing I notice right away, they’re not dated.

  “I understand you and your friends are planning on taking on several more shows coming up so we wanted you to have these passes. No more waiting in line for you guys. With these passes you can get in to any show after 5pm and these will get you backstage as well. Just show up before the doors open and well get you in and you can watch from the friends and family area, that way you don’t have to deal with any enemies we helped you make tonight.”

  “Wow…I-I don’t know w-what to say…” I’m getting all chocked up.

  “We want you to be able to finish the story your friend was writing so any help you need, it’s yours. But for now, someone should take you home so you can get some rest.”

  “I’ll take her home,” Gabby chimes in. “We can pick up her car at the next show.”

  I can’t say I wasn’t happy to be going home. I just don’t feel like I have the guts to try to interview Silas tonight. And I’m feeling extra guilty about what I’m going to write about. But who’s more important here? A metal band who soon I’ll probably never see again or my boyfriend Brand? Brand of course…I think…

  Chapter Eight

  A Chance Meeting

  It’s almost midnight when I stumble into the Triple Rock Brewery in Berkeley. It’s a micro-brewery known for its very unique brand of homegrown brews. I'm in desperate need of something to take the edge off the last 12 hours in the ER.

  I just got off a shift at the hospital and need to unwind a bit before crashing. Plus, what I have just seen, I really have no desire to take to bed with me. That, I think has been the key to my survival, my ability to leave the trauma of the ER where it belongs - and not take it home.

  Most of my colleagues are more like Gabby and take work home with them. Too often after a nightmarish shift like tonight, she’ll come in the next day after having been awake all night reliving the previous 12 hours. If she doesn’t figure out another way to process all the crap that comes our way, she’ll be looking for a psychiatrist and another profession before too much longer. She’s strong, but nobody’s that strong.

  The shift began with me doing CPR on a 9 month old baby suspected of falling victim to SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome). Sadly there really is nothing we can do at that point. The ambulance pulled up at nine this morning and a fir
efighter and a paramedic were tag teaming the child (taking turns performing CPR).

  Gabby and I took over for another thirty minutes before Doctor Rhana called it. We knew it was an exercise in futility but we had to do it for the parents. They had to know that we did, and they did, everything possible for their child. Long after the grieving parents were gone, none of us could shake the pall that had fallen over the ER, and it lasted the entire shift.

  For the next ten hours it was all we could do to keep up with the shitstorm of broken and ruined lives that paraded into our department. When I finally trudged out to change out of my bloodied scrubs the entire place looked like it had been in a war.

  As I walked down the hall towards the nurse’s lounge I couldn’t help but see the faces of the other doctors, EMT’s, and nurses, the thousand yard stare frozen on their faces. I’m pretty sure I’m a mirror image of those painful expressions, scars of the battles we lost today.

  I’m alone with my thoughts tonight because Gabby for some reason had decided to pull a double and is still in the trenches as I sip my brew.

  “Wow, that’s one hell of a look you’ve got plastered on your face June. Is it even safe to sit next to you, or should I keep an empty stool between us…you know, just in case?”

  I don’t need to look up from my drink to know who it is standing at my left elbow. No other voice in this world has the ability to send my body and nerves into overdrive just by virtue of opening his mouth to speak.

  A chill runs up and down my spine and my heart begins to hammer away at my ribs. This really is not a good time for this. I do not feel up to fighting my body’s reaction to Silas’s presence. I need to relax not get all worked up.

  “Really?” He says, after a moment. “Did I really deserve that look you gave me just now? I’m not the enemy here June.”

  Oh, but you are, I almost say out loud.

  “Sorry Silas, rough day at the office.” I say instead.

  “The office? I thought you were some kind of nurse or something like that.”