“How long have you been wandering the streets homeless?”
Caught unaware at his question, Chris almost gagged on a mouthful of bread, but did her best to swallow it, even as her eyes watered.
“Who said I was homeless?"
“I’m not stupid. Just answer me.”
“And if I don’t?” she shot back with more courage than she let on.
“Well, I’ve been known to be a persistent bastard and I know where you sleep. So, it’ll be hard to get away from me.”
Chris looked out from under her hoodie as best she could without giving away the fear in her eye. Wade mouth morphed into a half-smirk and when it appeared he wasn’t going anywhere, Chris began to grow agitated.
“What does it matter? Can’t we just go to California?”
“We’re headed there now,” Wade motioned out the window with a nod of his head. “Call me curious, but I just can’t picture you on the streets.”
“Hey, I’m not a kid y’know. I can take care of myself!” she said fired back. Wade didn’t bat an eye.
“Yeah. I can see that,” he said, gesturing to the now empty Styrofoam container.
“Do you grill everyone like this? Who the hell cares!?” she seethed.
“I care. If I’d known this kind of talent existed, I would’ve searched every corner and crack alley to try and find you.”
Chris flushed again and so she tried to hide it in her baggy clothing.
“Look, the bottom line is: if you’re hungry, you need to say something. The fridge is full of food and we keep everything stocked around here.”
“It just feels like I’m stealin’,” she confessed.
“Stealing?!” Wade scoffed. “Fuck ‘er you kiddin’ me? Eat it! If you don’t, Os will.”
Chris laughed and very nearly lost herself to tears again. But Wade was relieved when at the very least, he got her to smile.
But he was painfully aware just how little he really knew about her. All of Heretic grew up with each other; they were best friends. The only thing that Wade gleaned so far from Chris was that she liked fries - a lot. Regardless, Wade finally settled into a serious expression.
“Listen, we’ll stop anytime, anywhere. I don’t need anyone from Heretic performing on empty. Got it?”
Chris swallowed audibly. “Got it.”
Just then, a car past the bus on the interstate and honked wildly. Fans no doubt, and it made Wade remember something.
“Hey, I’m sorry about Os,” Wade said, pacing the floor with his eyes. “You may not believe me, but he only wants what’s best for the group. I know it’s not an excuse-.”
But before Chris could stop herself, the words just flew out of her mouth.
“Are you sure you two are brothers?”
Wade chuckled. “In blood only - believe me. I’ve checked several times myself,” he admitted. “Look, I’ll uh...leave you alone.”
He got up, had his hand on the door, and was ready to leave until he heard a small whisper.
“It must be so easy…”
“What’s easy?” Wade turned and asked.
“Being a guy.”
Wade sighed but not at Chris. Unlike Os, Wade didn’t have an issue with Chris being a girl, or even girls in general. He could have cared less if the world was run by women, so long as he could still have his music.
Wade sat back down again on the bed and locked his hands together. “Look…it if makes you feel any differently, I could really care less who or what you are. But the truth is; there are a lot of assholes out there who do care. And Os is only one of them. There were and still are thousands of fans loyal to Hess. Believe me - building a reputation isn’t easy - for anyone. It takes time and as you might know…it only takes one wrong move for everything to go to shit." Wade stopped and stared at the floor for a moment trying to forget the last two months, but he took a deep breath and let it go, focusing once again on Chris. "You’re only gonna win ‘em over if you blow ‘em away in Cali.”
“I’m not going to sugar coat shit and make you eat it, Chris,” he continued, hoping that she would take his words as gospel. “Like Os - there will be fans of Heretic who won’t accept a female drummer - at least not yet.” Wade stopped briefly, letting a glimmer of hope sink in. “Knowing that…you good?”
Chris already knew the answer was but that stop her from pausing to reflect on how she actually made it this far.
Ever since she saw Heretic on TV, the day she heard their first song, she would have done anything to be in Hess’ place. But nothing prepared her to believe it would actually happen. But as she dwelled over the last few years of her life, she’d choose Os any day of the week.
Chris huffed through her nose. “Whatever, just give me my damn drums. Playing drums is my life.”
Wade didn’t know how literally she meant such a statement, but he nodded anyway. But Wade wasn’t prepared to let this one slip away into the streets again. Even if she had said ‘no’, he would have drug her on stage kicking and screaming if he had to.
Yet again, he couldn’t help but reminisce on her performance in the auditorium. He’d never tell a soul, but the whole ordeal gave him goose bumps and somehow, he knew Chris wouldn’t disappoint. Not once did Hess have that effect on him. Of her musical ability, he had no doubt. But there was a flaw in Wade’s plan.
Most bands spent years together, rehearsing for hours on end until each song was perfect. They practiced for days, weeks, nights, weekends, holidays, until at times, they even wanted to kill each other, but they all came through for the love of music. They lived, breathed, and dreamed it until a connection formed - an unspoken bond between one another that came only with time. And as for Chris? Well, there was no time.
“Chris, when we get to California,” Wade began. “There…won’t be time to practice.”
Unabashed, she was swift with a reprisal and almost groaned, “Ugh… I told you already. ‘I can play your shit in the dark’.”
Wade’s gut seemed to acknowledge her confidence and he felt better already. He wouldn’t have admitted it, but he was just as apprehensive about letting Chris onstage as Os was, but his gut was the decision maker - not him. But with each mile that brought them closer to California, he was surprised to find that his instincts gave off no warning signs to signal any bad decision-making. He couldn’t help but be thankful for it and breathed an inward sigh of relief.
He studied their new drummer intensely as if trying to discover some big secret she was hiding. Perhaps if he stared long enough, he would unearth the root of her talent, but she only shied away out the window again. After a while, Wade got up to leave a second time.
“Well, get as much rest as you can. Because in the next forty-eight hours…you’re gonna make history.”
And with that, he left.
As soon as Wade shut the door behind him, Chris replayed their conversation over and over again in her mind. Anyone else may have been nervous - scared to death even, but Chris wasn’t and she had no idea why. Even during her audition, not a single muscle was tense. She never played a solitary note in front of her family, let alone the thousands of people she would soon see. Never in front of her father, did she so much as tap a pencil for fear of retribution. But this was her time. Never did she feel so safe, never did she feel so free to do what she loved.
Chapter 6
Ever since they pulled across the state line into California, everything seemed different to Chris - even the smell of the air. As soon as she woke up and lumbered to the front of the bus, she crashed onto the couch not wanting to miss the sign that welcomed them to the ‘Sunshine State.’ And so far, it held up to its name.
She closed her eyes and let the sun’s morning rays spill onto her face. A few windows had been left open and she felt the breeze waft in and out of the bus. Some wayward strands of dark hair tickled her nose and she instantly tucked them back into her beanie.
California looked as stunning as the movies made it out to be. She smi
led as soon as she laid eyes on the palm trees knowing that this was the place where dreams happened.
As Pete drove them closer to Anaheim, the sun peaked through the city’s landscape and at once, Chris was speechless. And as soon as the bus hit the freeway, she sat glued to the window as Pete weaved effortlessly through a dizzying maze of cars and busy traffic-goers.
She saw the exit for Disneyland and strained to see the towering rides off in the distance wanting nothing more than to ride the hair-raising roller coasters. She thought of the poor souls who paraded all day in stifling costumes just to make screaming kids happy. In just a handful of hours, she’d have to wear her own costume. Back at her old place, she’d emerge from the basement a sweaty mess in just a t-shirt, but that wouldn’t be possible in front of Heretic’s many fans. She saw no better disguise than her beanie and hoodie. But that meant she’d be miserable and hot. Already, she cringed at the thought of being a sweaty mess at the end of one song, let alone several she knew Heretic would want to play.
But the thought alone of being able to play the drums sent a comforting chill down her spine and she shivered in spite of herself warm, arid air that surrounded her.
Somehow, Chris knew that by coming into California meant the end of some things, but the beginning of others. She welcomed it all the same but for the time being, she pulled her beanie off, allowing the rich, black waves of her hair to cascade down her shoulders. To the unsuspecting passerby, she looked no different than a groupie traveling with Heretic.
Chris enjoyed the free time she spent as a girl, but she knew it wouldn’t last long. In no time at all, the bus rolled to a stop at the back of the Anaheim Convention Center. Wade bounded from his room a short time later and made a gesture to Chris to put her beanie on. She did. And she watched from the window as Wade sprinted from the bus to meet the security manager head on. She couldn’t hear them but she saw Wade make a lot of hand gestures. Then she saw him reach for his phone - Mike probably.
As the looming structure of the amphitheater rested just a dozen or so yards away, she saw several other buses from the bands on tour that she recognized - bands that would soon vie for fans’ attention.
Just then, Chris heard a noise from behind her and watched as Joe emerged from his room, unleashing a lion-sized yawn and scratching his head. As soon as he saw Chris, his eyes lit up.
“Hey there, Chica! Dj’a sleep good?” he asked, plopping down in the seat across from her.
“No…”
“‘No?’” Joe mocked her disappointment. “Why not? Too amped up?! I’m the same way!”
In the blink of an eye, Joe got up from his seat and bounced around the room, strumming a make-believe guitar. He didn’t even bother moving as Os emerged from his room soon afterwards. She heard him grumble something that sounded like, ‘move your fuckin’ ass’ before he walked off the bus. Joe didn’t seem to hear or care and Chris tried her best to keep from smiling, just like Joe taught her. Instead, she shook her head in angst when he appeared lost in his own concert.
“Hey. Hey Joe!”
“What’s up, Chica?” he asked while continuing his musical tirade.
“What’s Wade doing?” she motioned, pointing at Heretic’s front man through the window.
Joe stopped his obnoxious bouncing and looked outside. To Chris, he looked as though he was directing traffic.
“Pfft. He’s always doin’ that shit. Wherever we go, he’s always changin’ somethin’. Sound, lights, set up, songs. He likes everything a ‘certain way’” he said dramatically. But right away, he seemed to switch gears again. “Hey, c’mere! We got some time.”
“Time for what?” Chris asked. But Joe had already turned on the TV and powered up the XBox.
“Time for Halooooo!” he howled.
Chris had never played before, but she took the bulky controller in her hands and was prepared to learn the ropes as best she could. She eyed the TV screen nervously as an avatar appeared, brandishing a weapon she didn’t know how to shoot. Video games were never her thing but she was too scared to say otherwise. After all, Chris wanted to fit in. She knew Os hated her, Wade just made her feel like a nervous wreck whenever he walked by, but Joe was always calm, cool, and a bit silly. Right away she felt more relaxed with him around, and she did her best to help Joe kill some aliens.
As the rest of Heretic got ready for the nights’ events, Chris did her best not to stare at Wade while the door to the bathroom remained wide open. There, she could see easily see him as he took some of his hair, doused it with hairspray, and then attacked it with a hairdryer. The result was what she expected to see along with everyone else who knew his unorthodox hairstyle. Chris was sure her spying went unnoticed until he turned around and looked directly at her.
Without warning, the hair on her skin rose and oddly enough, he spun 360 degrees - showing off his hair-do as Vanna White to the Wheel of Fortune.
“You see? Like magic!” he said, motioning to his spiky hair.
Despite Joe’s lecture, Chris couldn’t help but laugh, but she buried her face into her arms and legs until her giggling fit subsided.
To see Heretic making finishing touches to their clothes and makeup before a concert was a dream-come-true for any fan. But Chris was no ordinary fan. She was in a dream come true, but she would do her part. She would make damn sure would earn her and keep her place in Heretic for good.
She stopped staring at Wade long enough to inspect Joe and Os who were just as busy getting ready.
Joe was ruthless with his hair and gave his dreads a few extra rolls and tugs just to make sure they were to his liking. Chris even chuckled to herself when she saw Os separate his beard and roll them into two horns - dyed and colored like that of fire. She shook her head knowing it was the only hair he had to mess with.
Os had completely ignored her the entire trip and hadn’t even so much as gotten a ‘good morning’ out of him, but at that point in time, she could have cared less. The only thing she was thinking about was the drum set that lay in wait for her on stage. She ached for it, had an itch she needed to scratch, much like a smoker trying to kick the habit.
“You should probably think about getting ready.”
Wade unexpectedly startled Chris out of her daydreaming, but she soon forgot about everything else as Heretic’s front man stood an imposing figure just two feet from her.
Now in full concert gear, she could easily see why Os never got the upper hand on an argument. While he may have been bigger, Wade was lean and muscular. He sported menacing biceps underneath a sleeveless black t-shirt with some obscure band name and his skin already glowed underneath a thin sheen of moisture while his tribal tattoo only amplified the effect. Chris swallowed audibly as she stared into his dark eyes, unable to look away from the monster that the black eyeliner created. She could see the toll of Hess and the stress that it did to him, but as soon as he popped his knuckles in a menacing fashion, Chris made a mental note not to ever piss him off.
His intricate tribal tattoo coupled with his burning stare caused her heart to beat against her chest, a pounding sensation her drums could never match. Without a doubt, seeing one of the most popular metal bands on TV was nothing compared to seeing them up close and personal.
But Chris was ready the moment they crossed the state line. She had no makeup to wear, no costume other than the clothes on her back.
She bit her lip until she tasted blood in her mouth. Then, she moved on to a stubborn hangnail and tapped her foot in a futile attempt to calm her growing excitement.
Calmly, Wade took his usual spot on the couch and began to read a magazine while he sipped at a cup. She wrinkled her nose at the sight and always assumed that beer was the beverage of choice for all metal heads.
“What’s that?” she asked, her curiosity outweighing fear.
“Tea. Want some?” he offered.
Chris raised an eyebrow in confusion. Quite possibly the scariest front man sat in front of her, and now suddenly, he
sipped from his hot brew like a British gentleman.
“What…no crumpets?”
Joe snickered like a little kid from across the table but Wade just sat back and smiled at her smart-ass response.
“You can make fun all you want but you’ll thank me for taking care of my voice.”
Chris blinked tiredly a few times before she asked, “How is that supposed to help?”
Wade sipped once more at this tea cup and looked over the rim before he responded with a smile.
“Are you familiar with death growls?”
Chris mocked his tone. “Are you familiar with the cookie monster?”
Wade nodded. “Riiiight. Well, if you know that much then you should also know that prolonged use of harsh vocals without proper treatment can degrade the voice permanently resulting in loss of range, vocal nodules, and polyps. Oh - those are uh, ‘growths’ on the vocal cords by the way-.”
“I know what a polyp is, Einstein. Since when the hell did you become such a know-it- all?”
Chris tried to play it cool, but she had trouble hiding her surprise at his seemingly endless stream of information but one look at Os and Joe told her that they were already used to it. But on this occasion, Joe laughed outright.
“Don’t tell me you never heard of ‘Wade’-kipedia!”
“I know a thing or too,” Wade smirked. “Speaking of which, I’d stretch if I were you.”
“Well, you’re not me,” Chris said, narrowing her eyes.
Joe was sent into a giggling frenzy again, but when Wade stood up and towered over them all, the atmosphere seemed to shift, but it wasn’t because of the weather.
“Alright, kids. It’s about that time. Joe, go and help the techies finish up. And for fucks’ sake: don’t let anyone touch my Gibson this time!”
“You got it! See you on staaaage!” he sang.
Joe grinned much too wide for his face and winked at Chris just before he walked off the bus after Os.
No Holding Back Page 5