by Rae, Nikki
Boo stands and walks in front of the chair Myles and I are sitting on so he can cross his arms over his chest and stare me down.
“Nuh uh,” he starts. “You are not going to try to worm out of this.”
I open my mouth to say something, but he cuts me off.
“We didn't practice our eyeballs out so we could bail. And we’re awesome.” He smiles. “We just have to show everyone.”
Boo's eyes shift to Myles now. “You tell her.”
“Yeah,” Myles agrees. “It'll be fine.”
Trei turns from the mirror now. “Yeah. As soon as you're up there, you won't be nervous.”
Oh Jesus, is this turning into an all-out-comfort-Sophie thing?
“Okay, guys,” I say, standing and replacing my headphones while sitting down at the mirror. “Can it.”
Myles leaves at around 7:30 to go sit in the balcony section with Evan. Eight o'clock shows up faster than we could have imagined and we're waiting at the very edge of the stage curtain as people hook up our equipment, weaving in and out of the veil between us and the audience.
I spot Stevie, Jade, and Laura through a slit in the curtain just left of the stage, and I wave rapidly as they pass by, squirming their way to the front rows, if I know Jade at all. Finally, I feel excited. My nerves begin to settle a little bit. If nothing else, my family and Myles are here; no one else's opinion should matter.
Adam had to work. I figured the show would run too late for Leena, and I can't even imagine Momzilla in a place like this. Not that Mom has exactly accepted that this is my life now. We did kind of make up over my healing days, me numbing our mother-daughter bonding by watching daytime TV with painkillers while she talked at me. A lifetime of a messed up relationship does not just get better over a near-death experience, ice cream, and soap operas.
Jamie comes backstage and announces that we'll be on shortly, disappearing behind the curtain before any of us has the chance to ask questions.
Soon enough, he emerges again. “Right. So I'm going to introduce you now. Come out after that, got it?”
He seems a little nervous. It must be hard being in charge of fitting a bunch of bands into a certain slot of time and making sure everything runs smoothly. He disappears again.
There’s a swell of applause from the crowd as Jamie announces us: “Ladies and gentlemen,” His accented voice bounces off of the stone walls. “Please welcome An Anachronism.”
The instant I set foot on stage, I'm someone else.
There are a lot of people clapping and cheering, but above all the voices, Stevie and Jade's stand out the most. I can't see them in the crowd when I glance off stage because the spotlights blur everything out, but I hear them, shouting lines from This Is Spinal Tap, just like they said they would.
Instead of a light, electric keyboard sitting in front of Boo's drums, I'm greeted with a shiny, black piano, strung up with lights shaped like little Jack-o-lanterns. With the way the instruments are positioned, I can stare at Boo if my head is facing forward, but if I turn to the left, I'm facing the crowd. Trei picks up her violin from a stand and waits for Boo's signal.
“Stone 'Enge!” Jade yells from somewhere in front of me, and I finally spot him with his arm slung over Stevie's shoulder. They're standing in the third row from the front, Laura pressed against them.
“I want real bread!” Stevie screams when he sees me look their way, and I laugh a little.
I glance up at the balcony seats where Myles is leaning over the gold railing, clapping and smiling right at me. I take in a deep breath and let it out.
“These amps go up to eleven!” Jade shouts as I nod at Boo and then Trei, who both nod back.
My fingers touch the keys, slowly running through the first few notes of our version of “Billie Jean.”
I start off with the middle low keys and layer high-pitched ones on top, making it sound like a music box. It’s nothing like the original, but that's okay. The crowd recognizes it as soon as I start singing.
Stray voices from the audience start joining in. A warm, fuzzy feeling works its way through my gut, and I don't hate it. I feed them every powerful note and they’re still starving when Boo comes pounding in at “For forty days and for forty nights.” Then Trei follows soon after, inserting her own beautiful, sad, and strong violin riffs.
I only mess up a few times when we double the speed.
When the song is over, the crowd erupts in shouts and applause. And we head right into the second song as I shout back a quick “Thanks!”
The excitement in Boo's face is impossible to ignore as he drums out a fast beat. I glance down at my wrist where I'd scribbled the order of our songs and start following the memorized notes with my piano. We're playing one of our own songs now: The Car.
Basically, it’s a dark song about waiting in a car after killing someone. I wrote it when I was still with Jack, but no one knows what it’s really about. It’s funny, but I can’t find one spec of me that cares about what the lyrics actually mean. All that matters is the music, me, and the crowd, who after the first chorus start clapping along with the beat.
This is nuts. One of our own songs, and they like it? Holy crap.
With only five songs for each band, the end of our set creeps up on us fast and soon we've only got two songs left. Boo performs the same trick he pulled at the Mischief Night Dance last fall; the one where he magically produces a guitar from his ass and wants me to leave my piano to play Neutral Milk Hotel's “Two Headed Boy.”
I shake my head, I mouth, no way.
He smiles and speaks into his microphone. “We're going to play you guys another cover,” he tells the crowd, who cheers in response. Boo closes his eyes momentarily, clearly eating it all up. “But Sophie's a little shy.” He points at me, winking as I glare.
It takes everything I have not to shoot him the middle finger as I hear some “Aw's” from the audience.
Then Boo starts clapping and chanting, “So-phie, So-phie.” Trei joins in too, shrugging and smiling at me. Of course it’s not long before the crowd joins them, their chants getting faster and faster until I take my mic out of the stand in front of the piano and stand next to Boo at the front of the stage.
The audience bursts into cheers and I wave at my family in the third row and toss some glitter from my dress pocket at the crowd. Boo strokes a few strings of the acoustic guitar as he waits for the noise to die down. I take this time to spy up at the balcony, where Myles is still standing in the same spot, next to a bunch of people in varying degrees of drunkenness that I don't recognize. He smiles back at me, nodding.
I take Boo’s top hat from his head and he barely protests.
“For anyone who's interested,” I say, my voice sounding weird and low in the booming mic. “Boo can't afford a shirt, so we're taking donations.”
The crowd laughs in response as I hand the upside-down hat to the first person I see in the audience, and Boo and Trei laugh too. I crack a smile, embarrassment forgotten.
Boo starts the first few chords. Trei comes in with beautiful, long notes, weaving in and out as Boo's guitar gets stronger. She twirls around on stage, the red and white lights around the edge twinkle in the fabric of her skirt.
I close my eyes. Start to feel it; really feel it. And I start to sing.
Two headed boy, all floating in glass. When I open my eyes and glance up at Myles, he's completely absorbed, his eyes closed. Exactly the way he was the first time he heard us play this song.
It’s almost too much for me to believe I’m causing that serene look on his face. As soon as his eyes open, I close mine. But not before giving him a quick grin. The sun, it has passed, now it's blacker than black. I can hear as you tap on your jar. I am listening to hear where you are.
I open my eyes again and Trei is smiling at me before she closes hers. Boo is rocking back and forth, his head thrown back. Everyone is feeling it, feeling what I do every time I play.
The last song we play is my newest finish
ed one, Color Blind. Boo and Trei follow my lead despite the fact that we’ve only played it a few times together.
It's a fairly slow song, but unlike when I gave it to Myles for Christmas, it has actual lyrics now.
I don’t want your flowers, no.
No violets, reds, or blues.
You could name a million colors.
All I want is you.
I purposely don’t look at Myles. I don’t want him to throw me off.
I want a world of black
And white.
A snowflake.
Your face.
All.
Black
And White.
Trei leans over the piano as I play the slow, complicated middle notes and slightly faster deep ones. Then suddenly, all three of us jump into a minute-long improvised instrumental solo. When I nod, we go back to the song like we’re coming up for air.
Can we take a photo?
Can we save this time?
Make it all
Black and
White.
Then it's over. The stage lights go out, the house lights come on along with some muffled house music. Boo throws the last of his glitter as well as his drumsticks into the crowd as he, Trei, and I step behind the curtain once more, only to walk down the back entrance to join the audience.
My makeup is running down my face, my chest and throat are raw, and my heart is pounding in the best possible way. A few people come up to us as I'm looking for my family.
The general feedback from these strangers is that we did a good job; some people literally pat me on the back.
I finally reach Stevie, Laura, and Jade, and I hug them all simultaneously from behind.
“You guys were so amazing,” Jade asks, flipping his hair out of his face. His Mohawk has grown back into a dirty blonde mop, and it makes his head sweaty so when he hugs me again, my cheek is left slightly damp. Not that I’m exactly perspiration-free anyway.
Stevie plants a kiss on my cheek, his thick curls brushing my neck. “Completely awesome,” he agrees. He then produces Boo’s top hat from behind his back. “And you made tips!”
“I’ll take that.” Boo snatches it from him before my hand even touches it. “For my shirt.”
Laura grabs my hand and jumps up and down. “I loved that two headed boy song!”
“Thanks,” I say, my voice sounding slightly scratchy.
Our conversation is interrupted when the audience starts cheering again. Jamie is making his way back to the stage, which can only mean one thing: Honus is going on in a few minutes. Though I don't want to leave my family and band mates, I don't want to be squashed up against a bunch of strangers either.
Jade already knows this. “Go find your boyfriend, we'll be fine.”
Trei and Boo stay up front with them as I finagle my way through heaps of bodies that congratulate me, or just simply say hi. I'm more concerned with getting to the less dense crowd, and the faster I move away from the stage, the faster that will happen.
I'm about a foot from the stairway that leads to the balcony when a hand catches my wrist. When I spin around expecting another stranger, it's the lead singer of Honus that's attached to me.
He's wearing a grey wife beater with a bowtie, a jacket slung over his shoulder. He has white slashes of paint in vertical lines across his cheeks.
“Hey,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. I notice for the first time that he's about ten years older than me, but most of the people here are older than us anyway.
I pull my wrist away, trying to act normal. “Hey.
He raises his hands up in apology. “Oh, sorry.”
“That's okay.” My arms have found their way around my middle.
“You guys were great,” he says, “you know that?”
I can't help myself from smiling. This guy liked us? “Really?”
He nods enthusiastically. “Yeah. And I mean, I heard you were a good piano player, but I never imagined you'd be that good.”
“You've heard of me?” I can't keep my eyes from widening slightly when I ask that question.
“Well, yeah.” He smiles. “Where'd you go to school?”
I've already gotten this question from Jamie. I laugh. “No, I taught myself. I don't read sheet music.”
He raises his eyebrows. “A sight reader, eh? That's awesome.”
“Well, I'm glad you liked it.” My arms relax and fall to my sides. “Even if I messed up a bunch.”
He makes a “pft” sound then laughs. “Have you seen me play piano? Now that’s messed up.”
I have seen him play. He plays piano like they’re drums. He squeezes notes out of it like the instrument owes him money. It’s completely different than how I treat my piano, but it’s still amazing.
“No way!” I say, though I’m wondering why he's over here when I’m sure his band is supposed to be on stage by now.
He shrugs with a smile much like my own. “Either way, I wanted to ask you if you'd consider filling in for me as a piano person two weekends from now.”
I gulp. “Are you serious?” The most popular band here wants me to play with them and they don't even know me?
He laughs again. “Can I take that as a yes?”
I smile, but I'm not one hundred percent sure about it. “It's an I'll think about it.”
“Awesome,” he says like I've already said yes. “Can I get your number?”
“Uhm.”
“So I can text you,” he explains quickly. “You know, let you know when we can get together to rehearse. . .if you say yes and everything.”
My first instinct is to say no. My second instinct is to give him a fake number.
But I'm trying to not be that person anymore. Besides, this could be a really good thing for not only me, but An Anachronism. People will see me play with Honus and want to find out more.
“Sure.” I tell him my number as he dials it into a phone he pulls from his jeans pocket.
“Awesome,” he repeats. “I'll be in touch.”
The lights have gone out again, and he stalks into the crowd, throwing on his jacket and slipping a furry gorilla mask over his face that I hadn't even realized he had around his neck.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Jamie is saying as I begin walking up the stairs, yet not looking away from the gorilla climbing on stage. “Honus.”
And he sits at the piano, banging out rhythmic, yet discordant notes as the rest of his band, also wearing gorilla masks, emerge from behind the crimson curtain.
As I continue to walk up the stairs, Alex and Adrienne are heading down the right side. At first I think they're holding hands with each other, but there's a short girl with black hair between them. They’re in a line so there’s room for me to pass, but they’re all linked together.
Alex is in front, wearing the shiniest dress I've ever seen, with black and yellow horizontal stripes circling around her; a latex bumblebee. She wears her lavender hair in soft waves down her back.
“Hello, Sophie.” She stops and so do the other two.
“Hey.” My eyes dart from the girl to Adrienne. His light hair is slicked back and he’s wearing a similar shiny striped vest under a black suit, and the girl, who has both sides of her head shaved, is wearing a very tiny black dress that barely covers her body.
“Well done, Sophie. Really.” Alex continues, smiling. “I really like the song you wrote for Myles.” She winks.
I have to fight the dumb smile that wants to stick to my face. “Thanks.”
“Oh,” Adrienne says, gesturing to the girl between them. “This is our donor, Evelyn.”
Before I can form a reaction, Alex glares at him. “We're going down to the floor to get a closer view of Honus,” she says through almost gritted teeth. Then she turns and smiles at me, leading the train of alternating vampire-human-vampire down the steps.
Adrienne shrugs like it's no big deal.
“Nice meeting you,” Evelyn says before they move out of sight.
T
he rest of the way up the stairs is spent trying not to think about what Adrienne said. I know what he means by donor because Myles explained it to me when he was spilling the beans; I just want a semi-normal night in a semi-human club.
Myles is already standing at the top of the stairs when I reach it and a very large security guard with a goatee is standing near him. “It's okay, Carl,” he says, “She's with us.”
Carl nods and steps aside so Myles can hug me before I can take more than one step forward. “You were so—”
“Yeah, yeah.” My tone is joking, but it has an edge to it, added by my weird encounter on the stairs. The main floor of the balcony is just as dark as the rest of the venue except for some white Christmas lights strung on the walls.
“I didn't know you were playing my song tonight,” he says when he lets me go. Thankfully, if he thinks there's something wrong, he doesn't let on.
I self-consciously wipe at eyeliner that's probably smeared under my eyes. “I just finished it.”
He smiles like he's replaying my voice singing it in his head.
“Okay, that's enough,” I say, nudging him.
Myles grabs my hand and leads me to some seats a few feet from the golden balcony railing. “There's someone I want you to meet,” he says.
“I already met Evelyn.” It leaves my mouth before I can stop it. Damn it, I wanted a semi-normal night.
Myles stops mid-step, facing me. “You did?”
I nod, but wave a hand in front of me. “It's no big deal.”
He looks unsure of what to do now. From his expression, I know that he probably didn't want me meeting Alex and Adrienne's donor. After a second, he spins back around, leading me the rest of the way to red velvet seats.
There's a guy I recognize, though I've only met him once and it's been a while since then. He's wearing a casual blazer over a white shirt along with jeans. His honey brown hair hangs loosely around his shoulders.
“You remember Evan?” Myles asks.
Last time I saw him he was wearing scrubs and I had a breathing tube crammed down my throat, but I remember who he is.
I smile tightly. “Yeah,” I say, sticking out my hand. “Nice to see you.”