Elliot "Eli" Graves had a knack for screwing things up. If there was a world record for "most bands kicked out of in a single year," he'd have it framed on his wall—right next to his unpaid electric bill.
Tonight was no different.
The dimly lit bar smelled like a mix of spilled beer, stale sweat, and regret—a perfect backdrop for the trainwreck unfolding onstage. Eli's fingers danced over his guitar strings, pouring his soul into a blistering solo. Unfortunately, the only soul the audience felt was the kind they wanted to exorcise.
A sharp crash yanked Eli out of his moment. Vince, their lead singer and part-time drama queen, had just sent his mic stand flying across the stage.
"What the hell was that?!" Vince roared, glaring at Eli like he'd just insulted his mother.
Eli blinked. "You mean my solo? That's called music. You should try it sometime."
The crowd—or the six people who hadn't wandered off to the bar—perked up. Nothing spiced up a Tuesday night like band drama.
"Don't give me that crap," Vince snapped, his face redder than the cheap neon sign behind him. "You ruined the song!"
"Oh, right, because your pitchy rendition of 'Highway to Hell' was flawless," Eli shot back, smirking.
The bartender stifled a laugh. Vince didn't.
"You're out," Vince hissed. "Pack your stuff and get lost."
Eli sighed, slinging his guitar over his shoulder. "Guess I'll leave you to your one-man karaoke show. Good luck with that."
He hopped off the stage, boots sticking slightly to the floor as he walked past the bartender.
"Hey, man, rough night?" the bartender asked, sliding him a beer on the house.
Eli raised the bottle in mock toast. "Nah, just another day in paradise."
The night air was cool as he stepped into the alley, the faint sounds of Vince's tantrum fading behind him. Eli leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply.
He pulled out his phone, half-hoping for a message from someone—anyone—telling him he wasn't a complete failure. Instead, he got this:
Melanie: "Hey. Hope the gig went well. Don't call me. Ever."
Eli laughed, a dry, humorless sound. "Well, at least she's consistent."
He tossed the cigarette to the ground, watching the ember flicker out like his hopes of ever being taken seriously. For a moment, he considered going back inside and giving Vince a piece of his mind—or his fist. But what was the point?
He started walking, unsure of where he was going but absolutely certain it couldn't be worse than where he'd been.
"Tomorrow's a new day," Eli muttered to himself, then paused. "And it's probably going to suck too."
YOU ARE READING
Harmony in Chaos
Science FictionElliot "Eli" Graves, a passionate but struggling rock guitarist, has hit rock bottom. Kicked out of every band he's been in and nursing a string of failed relationships, his life is a tale of rejection and despair. But when the world spirals into ch...
