Wanderlust

Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost

  "All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost." ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

The stage was her release.

After so many years of eerie silence only broken by the sound of beeping machines, the screaming of the audience and the singing of her lead filled those empty years with sound. The accelerating drumbeat keeping a rhythm her heart danced too. With each strike of her sticks, the pain of the past faded into blissful nothingness. All that mattered was the music.

Setsuko let herself go.

When it was over, the high she felt lingered, buzzing across her skin and vibrating her bones. Her bandmates would gather backstage for the obligatory "you did a great job" speech and hug from their lead singer. After, they would all go out for food, a different place every time because consistency was boring. Boredom meant silence, and absolutely no one could stand the silence.

***

Tonight it was Thai.

The reviews online said the place sucked, but Setsuko never let other people's opinions dictate her own. They were always up for an adventure anyway. When the five of them arrived, a mess of long limbs, colored hair, and laughing eyes, they received dirty looks they paid no mind to as they made their way over to a large sticky booth in the corner.

The green curry was okay, but the reviews were right, the place sucked, and the meal soon turned into judging whose meal sucked the most and daring each other to finish all of it. Food poisoning was high on the list of things they could look forward to in the future, but for now all that mattered was that they were together.

The Vagabond Chronicles were indeed a group of free spirited people

***

Every gig meant food on the table and another week of proof that their existence mattered, even if right now food was the last thing on their mind and they wanted nothing more than to die. Food poisoning did take them all prisoner, but the phone call Setsuko and her roommate/best friend/favorite band member received made everything but their digestive system feel better. A wedding in a week. A rich wedding in a week for a notorious name in the fashion industry. Possibly the big break they had all been looking for.

"Akane, do you know what this means?"

The girl's blood red head nodded eagerly, a smile lighting up her usually stoic expression.

"We could be famous."

***

For Akane, Misaki, Hisoka, and Kaede, it was all about revenge. Doing what they love to get famous, to prove to all of the people in their life that told them they were nothing that they were something. Setsuko loved them for their determination, but it wasn't like that for her. All she had ever known was a loving Sobo back in Kawazu who encouraged her to chase her dreams the way she chased butterflies as a child, so that's what she did. She packed her bags the day after graduation and bought a train ticket to Tokyo. Despite leaving all she had ever known, Setsuko never glanced back. When the newly forming band stumbled across her playing beats on buckets in the streets for cash, she joined because she had nowhere else to go but home, and because it was finally a chance to do making a living off of doing what she couldn't live without.

***

"Please, for me?"

"No."

The common, every gig argument she had with Misaki, who was insistent on wearing chokers since they were "in". Setsuko was having none of it, not that she had any of it, ever. Her doe eyed lead singer huffed. It was a common huff, one that meant pouting and whining despite the fact that the girl was the oldest. Long fingers reached out to tug on her Senpai's ocean blue curls before turning around to finish her makeup. The next huff that reached Setsuko's ears was one of laughter.

They were all nervous, the drummer could feel it vibrating the air, making the hairs on her arms raise in anticipation. The band wasn't invited to the wedding, just the reception, so they spent the next hour practicing each song they were required to perform. None of their own, unfortunately, but this would still get them recognized, hopefully.

It didn't matter that they were all in unassuming black clothing, their hair the only color to brighten the stage. Their talent would light the place on fire, and when the time came, that's exactly what they did.

Instead of getting lost in the music the way they were lost in the streets, the band found themselves. The band came home.

Trying something new.

Thank you! 

Unedited