Weeping Angels

Part XVI: The Lovesick Balladeer.

“Out of the nuthouse already?” Ben asked cheerfully as Kettu climbed into his van. Kettu could do nothing but smile. “Whoa, they pumped you full of thorazine, didn’t they?”

“Much to the contrary.” Kettu said.

“I’ve never seen you smile like that, Big K. What happened in there?”

“I worked a lot of things out. My childhood traumas and insecurities had led me to where I was at, and I’ve realized that there is greater healing in the world around me in observing the beauty in every day life than there is in medication and drowning sorrows.”

“That’s pretty deep shit, bro.” Ben said as he started up his van. “Have you talked to Nina?’

“She came to visit.” Kettu said as the van began rolling out of the parking lot.

“And?”

“I kissed her cheek, then we almost kissed each other.”

“Almost? Why almost? Why didn‘t you just go for it?”

“A nurse broke it up before it could happen.”

“Just your luck.” Ben scoffed, “But on the upside, it sounds like she’s pretty into you, Big K.”

“I hope so.”

“Well, I know where you can see her again.” Ben grinned, his sly expression said to Kettu that he knew something that he didn’t.

“Where?”

“Sanctus has been asked to open up for,” Ben paused, “Wait for it,” He paused again, Kettu’s interest was peaked, he looked onward, waiting for the band’s name.

“Dark Side Sun!” Ben cried out. Kettu’s eyes widened. Dark Side Sun had become a very successful band, with a multi-million record deal and a preference to play stadium shows. Kettu stared onward, speechless.

“I know, right?! An arena show for us is huge news!” Ben cried, “This could be our big break, and guess what I got?” Ben said in a sing-song voice.

“I-I don’t know, what?” Kettu was still reeling for opening for a big name band, at an arena, no less.

“Backstage passes, I would suggest you give one to Nina so you two can,” Ben cleared his throat, “celebrate the occasion.”

“Thank you Ben, that’d be great, I just have one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“I still want to tell Nina how I feel about her.”

“Well, bro, that’s going to be tough. I’d suggest reaching out to her in the best way you know how.”

Kettu’s eyes lit up, the smile returning to his face. An idea washed over him as a memory surfaced in his mind.

“Take me back to my place!” Kettu cried out excitedly.

“Huh? Aren’t you going to be staying with me?”

“I need to go back to my place, seriously, Ben, it’ll only take a minute.”

“I don’t get you, bro. What’s going on?”

“You said I wrote a song for Nina at the bar, right? Did I keep that napkin?”

“Yeah, in your jeans pocket, what about -” Ben stopped in his tracks, taking his widening eyes off the road to stare at Kettu. “No . . .” He said disbelievingly.

“Yes.” Kettu nodded, “The big gig, the song. It’ll be perfect.”

“Whoa, Big K, you’re risking a lot here,” Ben cautioned as he returned his eyes to the road, “You could get rejected in front of a crowd of over ten thousand. I’m all for the romanticism of your gesture and all, but the only thing worse than having your heart shattered is offering it up for said destruction, especially when it’s public. Besides, you wrote that song in a drunken stupor, are you sure that it’ll be worth playing?”

“Even if it‘s not, it‘ll give me some idea of where to start.” Kettu said, his determination unshakable.

“Alright, man. Detour to your place it is.”

Kettu burst through his apartment door and flung open the bathroom door. On the floor was the jeans he had worn to the bar. He began searching the pockets. He found a few dollar bills, some lint, and then in the rear right pocket, he felt it, the napkin. He withdrew it from the pocket, clasped tightly between his index finger and thumb. It had been folded tightly closed. He slowly began to unfold the napkin and watched as the blue ink words were revealed as he fully unfolded the napkin. He stared at the words written on it, his mouth agape.

“You find what you’re looking for? Can we go now?” Ben asked.

“I wrote this?” Kettu asked disbelievingly as he stared at the lyrics that were in front of him.

“I was there, I saw you write every word.” Ben yawned.

“Wow…” was All Kettu could bring himself to say.

“You see? Songs written when you’re drunk just suck.”

“This is beautiful.” Kettu said, still staring with disbelief at the napkin.

“Huh?”

“Look at this!” Kettu shoved the song toward Ben. His friend reluctantly took it and began reading it over, with every line, his eyes widening.

“Holy shit, Big K. Why couldn’t you write songs like this before?”

Kettu shrugged,

“Lack of passion, I guess.” He said simply.

“Well, we got what we came for, let’s go.”

“Ben.” Kettu said, “I need a favour from you.”

“Anything, Big K.”

“I need to be left alone for awhile, so I can perfect this song for Nina.”

“What about our parts in it?”

“This song was written for solo guitar, on clean channel from the looks of it.” Kettu said as he examined the music that had been scrawled on the napkin.

“You’re planning on going on stage solo for this?” Ben raised an eyebrow, “The others won’t like that much.”

“Tell them it’s important for me.” Kettu said, “I’m not being an attention whore, I’m only going to be playing for one out of ten thousand people.”

“I’ll talk to them.” Ben said, “Are you sure you’re okay here alone?”

“Positive.” Kettu smiled.

“You know what? For the first time, I believe you.” Ben said, clasping a hand on Kettu’s shoulder, “Good luck, buddy.”

“Thanks.”