The Hysterics

by Kristen Hope Mazzola

  “You’re cute.”

  I dug through the duffle bag that had most of my clothes in it until I found the perfect shirt to wear. It was a loose-fitting white V-neck with big, bold black letters: I Prefer The Drummer.

  After putting on my old style of heavy smoky eye makeup and bright red lipstick, I made sure my curls had enough hairspray in them to last a year. I was ready to go. Dane knocked on the bathroom door, calling in, “Babe, are you ready?”

  “Yeah. Coming.” I zipped up my tight black leather pants, slipped into my worn out pair of bright red high tops, and made my way into the living room.

  Dane slowly walked over to me, a seductive smirk perked up on one side of his mouth. “You look fucking hot.” He pulled back my hair to kiss my neck while grabbing my hand. “I guess you don’t want to be Fae tonight?”

  I kissed his cheek. “I just want to be me. This is me.”

  “Well then, let’s get this show on the road, future wifey.”

  Flutters.

  Weak knees.

  I loved the feeling of being completely his. I couldn’t wait to be his wife.

  “Let’s go, babe.”

  It wasn’t until we pulled around the back of the venue into the gated area marked ‘restricted’ that my nervous jitters started to come back. I tried to take deep, slow breaths while the guys were unloading their equipment backstage, checking all their bags, cases, and boxes to make sure that they hadn’t forgotten anything.

  I practically jumped out of my skin when I felt someone jump on my back and wrap their arms around my neck “Holy fuck, bitch! I missed you!”

  Relief spread through me as Starr’s voice registered and I spun around to hug my best friend for the first time in way too long. “It’s so good to see you!”

  She hadn’t changed a bit: short, bright pink hair, purple contacts, eyebrow ring, tight, black corset that made her boobs practically touch her chin. She was a sight for sore eyes, that’s for sure. Dane came walking back down the steps to grab the last couple of things from their rent-a-van.

  “Babe! Come here!” I called over to him.

  “Is that…?” Starr’s eyes got wide as Dane wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

  “You must be Starr.” Dane reached out his hand but Starr threw her arms around his neck and planted a huge, bright pink kiss on his cheek.

  I laughed as a confused but amused look danced across Dane’s face. “Well,” he cleared his throat, “I need to get the last of this stuff.”

  “Ok, babe. I’ll be in soon.” Dane nodded and grabbed his stick bag out of the trunk of The Judge.

  “Fallon! You didn’t tell me how fucking hot he was. He’s like walking, talking man candy.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, I guess he is.” I watched as he trotted back up the steps. “So, where is—you know who?”

  “Probably off in some bathroom trying to snort as many pills up his nose as he can before he goes on for sound check in fifteen.” Starr rolled her eyes as she lit a cigarette. “He’s apparently fallen off a damn cliff these last few months.”

  “That sucks.”

  “You jumped off a sinking ship, babe. That’s for sure.”

  I nodded. For the first time I didn’t feel guilty for leaving my old life. Instead, I felt proud of my decision.

  DANE

  Make sure we have everything, do sound check, find out where the three talent scouts are in the crowd, puke from nerves, see Kenneth Rhodes in the bathroom snorting a years’ worth of powder up his nose—check, check, and check.

  Finally I was sitting on the counter, sweating bullets in our small dressing room. There were only ten minutes before the first band was supposed to go up. We were fourth in line.

  I was tapping my sticks on my knees while Maverick tuned his bass. Fallon was texting someone, presumably Starr.

  “Babe, wanna take a walk with me?” Fallon looked up from her phone.

  “Yes.” Anything to keep my mind a little occupied seemed like an awesome idea.

  Hand in hand we made our way down the hall, past musicians, groupies, roadies, and managers. Fallon took me into an empty stairwell and pressed me up against the wall.

  “Why are you so nervous?”

  “Didn’t you hear Colt? There are three scouts here.”

  She kissed my cheek, whispering in my ear, “And that makes you nervous why?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Because this is huge for us.”

  “You’re right. But you guys are really talented, don’t ever second guess that.”

  I took in a few deep breaths. “How’d you deal with it?”

  “What, nerves?”

  I nodded.

  “I pretended that the crowd wasn’t there. That I was just playing with my friends in my basement.”

  “That’s easier said than done.”

  She took a step back, pulling my chin down to force eye contact. “You’re right. But as long as you’re having fun and giving it your all, it’s going to be awesome.”

  I grabbed her shoulders, spun us around and threw her up against the wall. She wrapped her legs around my waist as I crushed our lips together. My hand started riding up her shirt as I kissed down her neck.

  Right then we heard stomping behind us and a gruff, slurred voice echoed in the stairwell, “What the fuck is going on here?”

  Fallon gasped and pushed away from me, jumping down from my arms. “What the hell are you doing?” she yelled, shifting in front of me.

  Kenneth Rhodes was staring at us, his eyes glassed over.

  “She asked you a damn question,” I barked, about to knock his ass out as I started to lunge out from behind Fallon.

  She glanced back at me just fast enough to shake her head and grab my hand, making me wrap her shoulders in my arm as I leaned back against the wall.

  “Get the fuck out of here, Kenneth!” she screamed while he stood in the doorway, shaking.

  “What the fuck are you doing here with this guy?” His voice was ragged as he steadied himself by leaning against the doorjamb.

  “None of your damn business. We’re done. Now leave.” Fallon’s knees and hands were shaking.

  “I’m not leaving. How can you fuck some other guy with my baby in you?”

  Fallon’s entire body tensed. That had been over for what felt like forever, so why was he just bringing it up now? This guy was really fucked out of his skull.

  “Kenneth, you have ten seconds to turn around, leave, and never speak to me again or I will kick your teeth in.” She seethed.

  Kenneth’s hands flew into the air. “I am not going anywhere, you fucking bitch! I want to know about the baby!”

  Fallon started to explain in a calm deflated voice, “The baby never was. It was a false positive and the only person that knew that I even took a pregnancy test was Starr. So fuck you and leave me alone. I am not having your fucking baby, thank God!”

  Without warning, Kenneth lunged at Fallon. I shoved her out of the way, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and started punching him as hard as I could. He stumbled back, blooding pouring from his smiling mouth.

  “You’re one dead motherfucker.” He spit blood onto the floor and then tried to hit me, missing three or four times. I got in a few more clean hits and he was down on the ground.

  Fallon got down next to him, smacked his cheeks a few times, and his eyes finally opened. “Kenneth, get the fuck up, you’re not that hurt.”

  In reality, he was pretty banged up. His left eye had a gash over it, one of his teeth had been knocked out, his lip was busted, and both eyes were already showing signs of bruising. Fallon got him to his feet. “We have to get him out of here.”

  I grabbed his arm, pulling most of his weight onto me, and between the two of us we were able to walk him back to his dressing room.

  “Just prop him up here.” Fallon started to set him down while he groaned and mumbled in the hallway in front of his dressing room door.

  “We can’t just leave him here.”r />
  He spit blood right onto my shoe. Fallon cocked her head to the side. “His band all knows me. We’ll knock and bolt. Someone will help him.”

  “What if he tells them who did this?”

  “He’s too fucked up to know what’s going on. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened to him, trust me.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  MAKE IT OR BREAK IT

  FALLON

  I slammed the door to The Hysterics’ dressing room after Dane and I were safely inside. I was out of breath from sprinting away from Kenneth. We’d left him slumped over, battered and bloody, and I should have felt bad; I didn’t. I should have stayed and explained; I couldn’t.

  Maverick, Colt, and Rodney stared at us while he both heaved, slouched over, hands on our knees.

  “What the hell happened to you two?” Maverick handed both of us bottles of water. “We go on in fifteen minutes.”

  Dane explained what had happened and then looked down at his bloody hands, trying to make a fist with his right. He couldn’t.

  “Babe? You all right?”

  He stared up at me, wide-eyed, shaking his head. “Fuck.” He cursed under his breath a few times.

  Colt started bouncing around the room. “This is just fucking great. What the hell are we going to do if our drummer can’t freaking grip his stick?”

  Rodney put his hand on my shoulder. “You have to play the gig.”

  Dane and I exclaimed in unison, “No!”

  My heart was pounding. My mind was racing. My blood was boiling.

  I glanced around the room to see the panic in all of the guys’ eyes. “You’re right. I do.”

  Dane grabbed my arm with his left hand, “No fucking way. That would out you.”

  I kissed his cheek. “I can’t care about that right now. It’s my fault that your hand is broken.”

  “You didn’t make me punch him.”

  “No, but I’m the reason you were in that stairwell with him. Let me do this.”

  He pursed his lips and fell onto the couch. “Damn it all to hell. What other choice do we have?”

  Maverick sat down next to him. “It’s either Fae—ugh, Fallon—plays the show, or we pack up our shit and leave. It is completely up to you. We’re in this together, brother.”

  Rodney and Colt didn’t seem too keen on packing up, but they agreed anyway. They really were a family and, for better or worse, they were going to stick by each other.

  Someone knocked on the door. “You guys are up in five,” a voice called in.

  “Let’s do this, boys.” I grabbed Dane’s stick bag and opened the door.

  Rodney stopped before exiting the room. “Do I say it’s really you?”

  “Yes. Why the hell not? They’ll figure it out eventually.”

  “Alright.”

  One by one they all passed me while I stood frozen in the doorway. Taking a few deep breaths, I followed after them. Dane stopped in front of me and turned around, his face pulled into the saddest frown I had ever seen. “Look, you do not have to do this.”

  I got up on my tiptoes to kiss him gently. “Yes I do. Everything is going to be fine. I have you and the guys. You are the most important thing in the word to me and I am not going to let your big chance at this band going somewhere fly out the window because of my deadbeat ex.”

  Dane pulled me into him. “Thank you.” He whispered next to my ear, “I love you.”

  “I love you more.”

  I got to the side of the stage and everything started to blur together until I was walking up to Dane’s set. I had to make a few minor adjustments because of our height differences, and then before I knew it I was sitting on his cushioned stool, gripping a fresh pair of Vic Firth Steve Gadd signature drumsticks. The slick, black wood felt amazing as my entire body shook with adrenaline. Maverick scooted back a little in front on me. “You ready?” he called back.

  The crowd was already freaking out and the lights were glaring down on me. I had to be ready so I nodded that I was as Rodney started his introduction. “Ladies, ladies, calm down. We’re The Hysterics, and we’re here for you. We have a special surprise for you all tonight. Our drummer Dane is out sick and we have a pretty amazing sub for the evening. Please give it up for Fallon Dunbar!”

  With that the crowd went ballistic. I half expected to have rotten fruit thrown at my head, but their cheers were pure elation and excitement. We dove right into our set, and just as quickly as it started, Rodney was saying goodnight to the crowd.

  We all jogged off the stage and I ran right into Dane’s outstretched arms. “You were freaking incredible, babe!” He planted his lips on mine and tears started running down my face.

  I was just that freaking happy. A few reporters with press passes tried to get statements from me, but Dane just pushed them away and led me back to our room.

  “Fallon! Fallon!”

  “Can we get a statement?”

  “Why’d you let everyone believe you were dead?”

  The band and I got safely into the dressing room and all grabbed waters. I looked down at Dane’s hand. “Babe, you need to go to the hospital. I really think that’s broken.”

  His knuckles were bruised, swollen, and bleeding. “Yeah, ok.”

  Maverick started packing his bass into its case. “Why don’t you two get out of here and take care of that? We can handle this stuff.”

  “You sure?”

  Rodney waved us on. “Get out of here, dude! Fallon take care of him, we need that hand to heal up.”

  I grabbed Dane’s good hand and waved goodbye to the guys. “Thanks for trusting me to play for y’all.”

  Colt laughed. “Thanks for doing it. Fucking Fallon Dunbar just played a gig for us. I still can’t believe it.”

  Dane and I made our way down the back stairs virtually undetected. As we were walking to The Judge someone shoved me from behind. I spun around to see Starr’s pissed off, tear-stained face.

  “Dane, please get the car, I need to talk to Starr.”

  He put light pressure on my shoulder. “Yeah ok.”

  Starr was seething, shaking as she waited for Dane to walk away.

  “How dare you play for them? Fuck you!” Starr was freaking out. I couldn’t blame her, but it was all her fault that it happened in the first place.

  “You have no right to be mad.” I got within an inch of her face.

  “Yeah, I sure as heck have every goddamn right to be as fucking pissed as I want right now.”

  “Then explain to me why Kenneth Rhodes tried to attack me and my fiancé because he thought I was pregnant. You’re the only one, other than Dane, who knew about that!”

  Starr’s face went white. “Oh shit.”

  “Yeah, didn’t think that one through, did you?”

  She shook her head. “Fallon.” She tried to put her hand on my shoulder but I swatted it away.

  “Save it. You claim to be my best friend, but you’re not. Not anymore.”

  “Fallon, wait.”

  I started to walk away from her. Opening the door to The Judge, I turned. “Call me when you grow up.” I slammed the door and that was it.

  I watched Dane wince as he tried to shift the car.

  “Let me drive.”

  He snorted. “Can you even drive a stick?”

  “Yes. Now get the hell out of the driver’s seat so I can get you to a doctor.”

  He reluctantly undid his seatbelt and switched seats with me. I watched Starr stand with her head in her hands as we pulled away from the venue. We turned the corner in silence as my phone lit up with calls and texts from my former bandmates and unknown numbers that I figured were news reporters.

  The emergency room trip went by in a whirl of nurses and doctors. Dane had a boxer’s fracture. After being scolded for not coming in right away, the doctor immobilized his hand with a splint, gave him some meds for the pain, and we were out the door.

  We made our way out of the parking lot and Dane put
his hand on my arm while I shifted. “You really are the perfect woman.”

  I laughed, glancing over at my sappy fiancé. “I love you.”

  “Love you more.”

  Epilogue

  The Interview

  FALLON

  My palms itched as I shuffled around in my seat. There was no turning back; I had to do the interview, but it was the last place on earth I wanted to be.

  After the fiasco of the music festival, I knew I was going to have to do a crapload of damage control. I sat fidgeting nervously, hoping that the interview with Colleen Ryder would be enough. Starr and I had barely spoken, it was going to be a while before our relationship got back to normal, but somehow I knew we’d figure it all out. The rest of my former bandmates were understandably pissed, I was getting hate mail from incredibly enraged fans, love notes from sympathetic super fans, and the paparazzi were not leaving me or any member of The Hysterics alone. It had taken just about a month for Dane to convince me that my plan of ordering Chinese takeout and hiding in our apartment for the rest of my life was not a solid one.

  The hot lights beamed down on me as the crew finished setting up. The makeup artist placed the last couple of daubs of powder on my face as my interviewer took the chair in front of me.

  Colleen Ryder. She was my journalism idol and now she was sitting across from me, notebook in hand, and a sweet, tightlipped smile on her face.

  The mics were pinned onto us and she leaned in. “Are you ready?”

  I smoothed out my blouse, trying to avoid eye contact. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  The cameras started rolling.

  Thank goodness this isn’t live.

  I was sweating. My knee was trying to bounce uncontrollably. My cheeks were hot. My heart was thudding in my ears.

  Colleen’s strong voice pierced the air, “Good evening, I’m Colleen Ryder and today we have a very special guest with us: Fallon Dunbar, former drummer of Regicide Assisted. Thank you for joining us tonight, Fallon.”

  “Thank you, Colleen. I wish we were meeting under different circumstances.”

  The truth was I wished I could go back into hiding and never have to meet Colleen or be in the spotlight at all, but I’d known that possibility had flown out the window right when I’d sat behind that drum set.