Chapter 1
The Blue Eyed Crafters
~Crystal
What do you go to concerts for? For the music. What do you go to The Blue Eyed Crafters concerts for? To fall in love with music. I only went to one of their Friday showings in the first place just to get a glimpse of my old guitar teacher, my childhood friend and ex-neighbour. I knew he was good, but him playing along with those four strangers who were just as talented and gorgeous as him?
Imagine going back to the very beginning and seeing the big bang with your own eyes, watching the stars burn brightly and fall in to place, knowing that a gillion years from now there would be life on most definitely at least one of those round rocks. It was the equivalent. It wasn't the songs, it wasn't the scores, it's wasn't really anything to do with the music they played but their presence made the sound of legend. I fell in love with rock then. I fell in love with The Blue Eyed Crafters then. I was already in love with Ray Everson then.
After that, I went every Friday to the Crooked Jailhouse (an abandoned old jailhouse some guy bought and turned into a thriving local venue) and listened to every one of their covers and originals. I watched in awe as their fan base grew and grew, with me adding to the collective. I changed from a homely, average, less than exciting book worm to a worshipper of rock, who took the few chords taught by guitar legend Ray Everson from years back and rocked out on a my blue epiphone explorer bought off ebay.
I got into all sorts of bands after that; ranging from Black Sabbath to You Me at Six, from Sex Pistols to LostProphets, from Slipknot to Nickleback and even from Paramore to Bowling for soup. Old, new, serious, funny, screaming, whispers- as long as it was at least part rock, I would enjoy it, the majority of the time. My favourite band ever was still and would always be The Blue Eyed Crafters. They were just a local band, but they had a glow about them. They sang songs so much better than the noise that drilled through my brain when I switched on the radio. Eric Kasey, lead vocalist and second guitarist had the most amazing voice I've ever heard live. He sang the lyrics Ray had written for the band with a fire that got across the meaning and feelings of each song and connected to how everybody else felt, sort of like he was saying over and over again, 'You're not alone.'
They always started a song with either an inspiring bass riff from Robin Guise or a rhythmic beat from the drummer Scott Mitchell. Either way, the sounds always pulsed through the floor and beat against my heart, like Scott was beating the snare, or shaking my bones as the strings on Robins bass did after he pulled it. Then there were the soothing noises in the background that made the songs more up beat and catchy to listen to. This was done by Jack Keaner, keyboardist. The five of them were all blue eyed and rumour has it, each crafted their own instrument. Me, Nicky, Donna, Kirsty, Darren, Paul and the rest of the fans were sure they were gonna win this years competition and go all the way to getting signed. Unfortunately, that wasn't the way things turned out.
I remember the last time I ever saw them on stage. I had dyed my hair red, assuming that was still Ray's favourite colour as he had told me when we were little. He still wore red a lot, so I guessed he might. I thought he might be drawn my bright scarlet hair and recognise my face out in the crowd. He didn't remember me, he didn't know I was there and why should he keep all those memories of his childhood when it probably just brought back pain? Nethertheless, I never forgot him. It was fate that my dad had dragged me along so he could talk to his old classmate, the owner of the Crooked Jailhouse. When he mentioned a band that had played there for a couple of months and was making him quite a bit of cash I was completely in the background, couldn't care less, just kept on thinking of all the homework I had to do. Then 'Ray Everson' that name, it just hung in the air, still minutes after he said it. My heart raced, I knew I couldn't keep away. And then I couldn't keep away for a whole year, but neither could I bring myself to speak to him in person. Until that night.
I knew the venue well since Mr.Andrews (Crooked Jailhouse owner) was kind enough to give me a job and so he didn't mind me waiting back for the band, who often went out front to talk to their fans- I could never get close enough. They were all so chatty and kind, even on stage, so friendly and made the whole audience laugh when they picked on each other.
I stood on the new veranda at the back Mr.Andrews had made as the first step for building a cafe outside the auditorium. He told me just to go to their warm-up room where they often chilled out after chatting with their fans, but I was too embarrassed to talk to Ray in front of the rest of the band (although it would be super awesome to meet all of them). I heard the cleaner say Ray often stole out to the veranda to smoke around that time, so I leaned against the wall and waited. I had two presents for him. One was a steal pick with the word "Momentum" etched in blue with a little symbol below it. I was ecstatic when I found it at a car boot sale. When we were young Ray used to have loads of picks and ten of them were steel with words on them and that same symbol underneath. "Listen" "Dream" "Enigma" "Hallelujah" "Reminisce" "Beguile" "Chaotic" "Forgiven" "Zephyr" and "Blesser". They were his pride and joy; he wouldn't let anybody touch them. But he did let me have a shot of Blesser a few times, I felt so... well... blessed.
He said he bought the first three off some hobo who told him the man who made them made one hundred and one. He said he found the others at car boot sales, garage sales, in second hand shops, etc- and all the people who sold them to him said the same thing. One hundred and one to collect and he was determined to collect every single one. It was luck that I came across Momentum.
The second present was a rose, no meaning behind it other than it represented love. Cheesy, embarrassing but I wanted him to have it. Then he came out, slammed the door with his back and breathed heavily as though he had just been running. Despite his lungs pleading for mercy he pulled out a cigarette and held it with his lips as he lit it. He inhaled, took a deep sigh and then turned his head and looked at me. I froze as his eyes ran up and down me. He jerked up, as if he had just realised after two minutes of staring at me that I was actually there.
'Hi.' He said in his cool soothing voice.
I hesitated, 'Uh-um-er-'
'Hello back?' He suggested with a mocking tone.
'Hello.'
He chuckled, 'What's a pretty girl like you doing out here alone in the dark at...' He checked his watch, 'Half twelve?'
I blushed. He thought I was pretty? I pulled out the satin cloth that held inside its material Momentum and held out the rose too, 'I'm a big fan.' I said shyly and then winced as the rose slipped down my hand and cut my finger.
'Thank you so much.' He smiled, taking the cloth and rose from me. He sniffed at the rose in such a charming way but kept his blue moonlit eyes on me. Then he opened the cloth and I saw his eyes widen as it stared down at momentum.
'H-how... Where did you find this?'
'Car boot sale.' I said, then regretted it for it made me sound kinda cheap.
'I've been looking for this baby for about six years now.' He kissed the plectrum and then smiled at me. 'I've already got the other one hundred, so that's me.' I smiled back, it was amazing seeing him so happy, knowing I had made him so happy. It was a bit odd he didn't explain to me about the collection though, he must've assumed the seller told me- which she did.
We sat on the patio slabs and talked about random things, how I loved their music, how he loved to play guitar, what television programmes we watched, what our favourite foods were, stuff like that.
Then out of nowhere he asked, 'Do you believe in heaven?'
I shrugged. I hadn't really thought about it, I never really thought about death and the afterlife or if there even was one. But I gazed up at the sky and answered, 'Most definitely there is a heaven.'
'How are you so sure?'
'Dunno, just a feeling the stars give me.' It sounded dumb, after I said it but he didn't laugh. He was looking up at the sky too and gazing dreamily at all the beautiful lights that lit up the sky.
'You're right.' He said, 'There is a heaven.'
We stayed there in the silence for a while, I thought it would have been awkward but it wasn't, it was extremely comfortable gazing at the stars with him in silence. Then he looked to me and I caught his stare, it fell to my hand and turned into an alarmed expression. 'Your finger is bleeding.'
'Oh.' My skirt and finger were both covered with crimson blood; 'I cut it on the rose thorn.' No sooner had I said that then he had grabbed my hand and pressed his lips against the cut. I could feel his tongue taste the blood and lick the wound clean. It was like a gentle kiss and how I longed for the cut to have been on my lip rather than my finger. After he was done I heard a voice shout, 'Ray! We're heading off now! Get your fat ass into gear!' Eric Kasey's voice, unmistakable. Me and Ray laughed off the moment that had been ruined.
'Best be going...' He said with some dismay in his voice. It was nice to know he didn't want to leave me.
'Thanks, for spending time with me.'
'Thank you for going to all that trouble to get me gifts then spend time with a bore like me.' He laughed, I didn't think he was a bore. 'Goodnight, Crystal.' He said and left me with the most feathery kiss on the corner of my mouth. I touched my lips gently watching the door close behind him. Not once that night did I tell him my name.
That was the last time I ever saw him or The Blue Eyed Crafters on stage. After that, they disappeared. Nobody knew what happened, Mr.Andrews said they just didn't want to book again. The fan base dissolved, everybody moved on. But I stayed in love with The Blue Eyed Crafters and Ray. Even more than a year later, I could still hear them playing my favourite song, "Remember us".
Remember Us by Ray Everson and Eric Kasey
Bet you can't win this game,
That you've been playing,
On and off all day.
Bet you can't lose this fight,
With yourself,
Cause you'd rather die.
Because at the end of the day you're just a memory...
For everyone to forget...
But not just yet...
Cause I'll always remember you,
Your laugh, your smile, your stubborness too,
The good the bad and the ugly,
Its all more than a memory.
Y'know I'll always remember you,
The way you were always there through and through,
The good the bad and the ugly,
It's all the biggest part of me.
Bet you can't climb that high,
I remember you were always scared of heights.
Bet your favourite colours still blue,
That's so like you, just remembering you...
But at the end of the day you're just a memory...
For everyone to forget...
But not just yet...
Cause I'll always remember you,
Your laugh, your smile, your stubbornness too,
The good the bad and the ugly,
Its all more than a memory.
Y'know I'll always remember you,
The way you were always there through and through,
The good the bad and the ugly,
You know you are the biggest part of me.
Bet you can't win.
Bet you can't lose.
Bet you can't win-
Oh what else can you do?
Bet you can't win.
But you cannot lose.
Can't forget-
When I'm always remembering you-
Cause I'll always remember you,
Your laugh, your smile, your stubbornness too,
The good the bad and the ugly,
Its all more than a memory.
Y'know I'll always remember you,
The way you were always there through and through,
The good the bad and the ugly,
Oh please, oh please, remember me?
Do you remember me?
I remember you.
Do you remember me?
Cause I remember you.