Eddie Van Halen imagines

Dance the night away

Warnings: mentions of self harm
Word count: 1843

I flip through my closet, getting ready for a gig tonight. It was our first gig since my boyfriend broke up with me, for whatever reason, it made us stop playing for awhile. I decided on wearing my signature baggy, faded black jeans and a worn out white t shirt with some random flannel over it. I threw on some bracelets on top of the multitude of rings I never took off.

I walk over to the mirror and quickly do some smokey eyeliner, not caring if it was perfect or not. I threw on my old high top converse and grabbed my bass guitar and equipment.

I walk outside, throwing everything in my trunk. I hear my car creak under the weight of everything, then again, it was a shitty ass car. I hopped in the front set, putting a Judas Priest cassette into the tape player. I turn the volume all the way up as I back out of my driveway.

My car blades music as I drive with the windows open. People from others cars glanced at me almost with a look of disgust to which I just flipped them off. My hands land back in the wheel as the sleeve of my flannel rolls upwards. I glance down at my arm, the scars staring back at me. I'd always had the scars, well since I was nine, but they'd started to surface more since my boyfriend dumped me. Whatever, maybe I'd just tattoo over them or something.

I make it to the bar where we were gigging at, unpacking my stuff and helping the other girls set up. Our band had a shitty name, I came up with it. I said one word 'failure' and the other two agreed. My guitarist, Jackie Driscoll, was really big on the whole failure name, she said it was ironic or something like that and my drummer Alva Aldine just laughed and we all agreed. I was left to do vocals, and play bass, I'd always lived bass, it was fun, but vocals seemed like more of a chore.

We all sit in the cramped backstage area, waiting to be called on to start the show.

"You guys are on in five."

We all nod, anxious for the five minutes to end. Soon enough we get called on stage.

"Alright, it's been awhile." I laugh, as I talk with the crowd "How's everyone doing out there?"

The crowd cheers, drinks spilling.

"Alright, here we go!"

We all start to play our first song of the night, paranoid by Black Sabbath. The crowd cheers as I start to sing. The lyrics smoothly rolled out of my mouth as I plucked at my bass. I missed gigging, I guess I didn't realize how much.

"Queens of noise!" I yell

Jackie starts the riff of the iconic Runaways songs and I start to play along.

"You gave me the answer.....now I got the answer, oh yeah!" I sing "We're the Queens of noise!"

I notice two guys walk into the bar, they had shaggy dark hair and made there way near a table in the back.

"Queens of noise, not just one of your toys!" I continue

We finish the song and a few others and eventually get to the last song of the night. It was the only original we had in the lineup, it was some stupid thing I wrote in spite of my ex boyfriend. It sounded pretty happy but the lyrics were pretty fucking depressing.

"Alright, it's our last song of the night. Also our only original." I say "enjoy."

I start with the bass riff, plucking away at the strings and making my way towards the mic. The lyrics were pretty beat, kinda dark if you were to study them, but the melodic and happy tune of the song gave it a different feel, like it wasn't as bad as the lyrics made it seem.