Vampire Dragons & Unicorn Thugs

Brandon felt like he finally hit the big time. The owners of 6th Street Jams in downtown Austin just put their signatures on an agreement making his group, Boogie Madness, the official house band for the next six months. Not his band, exactly, but he was the drummer. Karl was their songwriter and owned fifty percent, as well as a creamsicle-orange Stratocaster. Max played a slap-style double bass, and in truth played lead percussion while Charelle was their lead singer and poster girl. She was tall and thin, and almost top-heavy with her signature bouffant hairstyle. She loved mixing her African-American heritage’s native-traditional prints with poodle-skirts, which gave a unique spin to their Rock-a-Billy style. She also had piercing-green eyes, which prompted her parents to choose her name, which meant “green gemstone”.

 Brandon was twenty-three, and only became a drummer in an attempt to get laid. Everyone knew musicians have their pick of groupies, but somehow he just didn’t find it that easy. He was small and thin with black hair, and his step-parents told him the agency thought he originally came from somewhere in India, but there were no records. His skin was a dark reddish-brown in places, blending into near black in others. At school in rural Texas, no one quite knew how to deal with him socially. He clearly wasn’t Mexican, not exactly African, and nowhere near Caucasian, even one with a deep tan. The school seldom experienced overt hate-crime level incidents between the races, but it was definitely more of a stew than a melting pot. Thus began his seemingly eternal quest for that first love.

Brandon did not understand, by contrast, how Charelle never had a problem when she felt lonely, and always had more luck getting female companionship for the night then did he. Of course, one such conquest was more luck than he was so far been able to manage. There was always the pay-for-play option, but that would be a knockout to his already wobbling self-esteem. When an opportunity finally presented itself, it was in a form that his foster parent’s Southern Baptist influence just wouldn’t lie down for, so to speak.

Friday nights during summer meant two shows, which also meant two cover charges to help pay their contract. During their mid-set break, Karl and Max went outside to the back patio for a “cigarette” break while Charelle was enjoying a free drink at one of the small round tables, wedged between a cute little lipstick and a scary looking butch. They were joined by an immense black man whom, by his physique and size, Brandon assumed was a slumming NFL player. He said something the girls all found hilarious, after which Charelle almost choked on her drink from laughing so hard.  She suddenly looked serious, and motioned Brandon to join them.

“Brandon, I’d like to introduce Groot. Groot, meet our little drummer boy.”

Groot got up with grace and athleticism, making the simple act of standing seem like a grand pose of a ballet Cavalier.  He was six-foot four, with just enough body fat to look fit through lifestyle rather than hours at the gym. His haircut was so short it almost appeared furry, and he sported a long, wispy white goatee curling off his chin. His wide cheek bones and broad features, combined with his choice of hair, gave him an exotic but noble look, not handsome in a traditional sense but unique and supremely attractive. His eyes were alive and focused, with merriment evident in the slight crinkling at the edges.

“Good evening, Brain-done. Thank you for enlightening my evening!”

Groot’s accent was unlike any Brandon had ever heard, with incisive inflictions and slightly-off-English pronunciation of certain words as if he were unfamiliar with short-vowel sounds. His voice was deep and smooth, rich in timber and polished overtones. Brandon automatically held his right hand out to shake, but Groot grabbed it between his two palms and pressed tightly. They were strong, neither soft nor calloused, but simply warm and inviting. Groot leaned forward in a slight bow, and Brandon was sure he noticed Groot's nostrils flare as he deeply inhaled and broke into a sensual smile.