ZOE
Cool Kids// Echosmith
Dylan, the ex, who shall be known from this point forward as dumb fuck or DF for short, is sitting behind his drums, preening like a peacock for his new lady love. And she in turn is lounged across the love seat giving him googly eyes while blowing him kisses.
I stand frozen in the doorway staring at DF. The hate I have for him is so strong I swear I can taste it. And it tastes as I imagined it would...like sour milk, cigarette ash, and previously chewed upon fruity tutti gum.
God that is all I wish I felt for him at this moment, pure hate. But there is a part of me that is weak and still longs for what we had, and that part is making my heart skip a beat at the sight of him. I really loved this bastard. God help me, maybe still love this bastard. For the first time, in a long time, I decided to take a chance—I came out from behind my quite impressive "stay the fuck away from me" personal defense walls. I lowered my guard and let someone in. Someone who said he wanted to know everything about me. Someone who said he cared about the things I cared about. Someone who acted like I was his whole fucken world. And like a love-struck idiot I believed everything he said.
He doesn't love me anymore. Those words bounce around my skull and make my hands shake. DF, also known as the biggest mistake of my life, hasn't bothered to look in my direction, too focused on his groupie girlfriend.
It's now or never, I guess.
I clasp my fingers tightly in front of me, forcing myself forward. My eyes are now focused on anything but DF. I look over at Roger sitting at the keyboard. He takes one look at me and suddenly becomes busy gathering up sheets of music. My eyes swing over to Josh strumming his fingers lightly across his guitar. The minute our eyes lock, his quickly slide away as an uncomfortable expression crosses his face.
And there in the center of the make shift stage, the stage DF spent a month building in his mother's old she shed, stands the microphone. Being on stage is the one place, the only place I feel like I know who I am. Standing in front of a microphone, standing in front of that crowd waiting to hear me sing, that is my passion, my lifeline. When I am up there, I close my eyes and let the music fill my body and my soul. Singing is that one thing I feel I was born to do. DF can't take that away from me. No matter how hopeless and depressed I've been feeling, I refuse to let him take that away from me.
The sight of that little stage is what straightens my spine and allows me to do what I have to do. If I put my energy into the music, I know I can, for the moment, let the rest of it all go. I can do this. I will do this.
My forward motion catches DF's attention. "Zoe, what are you doing here?" His voice has lost its mocking tone, replaced with confusion.
His little plaything looks at me and then back at him in shock. "Dylan, I thought-," but before she can finish, he cuts her off. "This isn't a good time, Zoe. I can't deal with an argument right now. We're busy." He tone is now dismissive.
And that dismissive tone weakens my resolve. Before I say a word, I step onto the stage and put both hands on the microphone stand to steady myself. This is why I needed Chelsea to walk in with me. She would have already verbally dressed DF down in order to give me time to compose myself. A stiff silence while I gain control will have to do.
When I finally speak even I'm surprised how steady my voice sounds. "Band practice, Dylan." Too bad I don't have the guts to call him dumb fuck to his face, yet. That day will come. "That's the only reason I'm here. To practice. With our band." I emphasize the last two points by measuring out each syllable.
Roger and Josh have their mouths open and their gaze is bouncing back and forth between DF and I. I know these guys, they won't take sides, not yet. These two are followers, not leaders. They are waiting to see who'll gain the upper hand.
No one is saying a word. The room is cloaked in an awkward silence. There is nothing more to say, it's time for me to just do my thing.
I give DF a deadly stare and ask, "Shall we?" And then I swing my gaze towards Josh.
A little glimmer of something, is it respect or laughter, I can't decide, fills Josh's eyes as he looks over at Roger. These two are good guys, but I know deep down their loyalty lies with DF, not with me. They handed over their backbones when they joined his band. The Dylan Protocol, which is the stupidest name imaginable, had been a dream come true for all of us. It had been challenging and fun and the only thing any of us truly cared about.
It had been good, even great, until last month, when things started to get rocky. Great until the day DF proclaimed, he no longer loved me, and he was moving on. Up until that time the music was all that had mattered to any of us. But deep down I know it is still the only thing that Roger and Josh care about, which means, if it comes down to a battle, they won't choose me. The band is called The Dylan Protocol, because DF started it and he still commands it.
Josh says to no one in particular, "What will it be today, Paramore or Echosmith?"
Roger shrugs then looks over to DF for approval, or orders, or whatever he needs to make a damn decision.
Dylan groans, rubbing his face with both hands while simultaneously gripping his drumsticks. "Whatever. No one's shown up yet so we might as well get something done. Echosmith, Cool Kids."
I hate that song.
But as usual, what DF wants, DF gets.
"Great. Hit it," I say keeping my eyes focused on the floor. His band, his name, his song choice. Last thing I need is to see the gleam of triumph in DF's eyes.
Roger gets the song started then Josh and Dylan jump in. The intro winds down and I step up to the microphone, letting the words take over. The words describe a loner, a girl on the outside looking in. ...in the background...And wouldn't you know it, that's me to a tee. Unless I'm on stage, I'm in the background.
I lose myself in the song and block everything else out.
I use my four-octave range to dig into the low notes and punch the high ones. I close my eyes and let my soul do the work, blocking out the world around me, and the pain it causes. ...haven't got a clue...It works every time the music plays.
But the second the last note floats away; the magic is gone and silence takes over the entire garage. That miserable, awkward silence is there again.
I open my eyes and suck in a breath when I see the new guy staring back at me from the door. Even from a few feet away, I can make out the deep brown of his eyes. It is unsettling the way he looks at me, as though he can see right through me, see straight into my soul. It's the same electric eye-lock we had this morning, and just like this morning, I'm buzzing with nerves because of it.
"I came for the lead-singer audition but seems to me you've already got an amazing one." His words paired with a sexy as sin smirk cause my mouth to drop open.
Did new guy just say lead-singer audition? What the hell is going on? Dylan is trying to replace me? That son of a bitch is trying to purge me from every aspect of his life. I can't believe he would try and kick me out of the band. I should start shouting in outrage. I should slam the microphone down on the ground in a dramatic act of sheer temper, but instead I just stand there staring at the new guy in silence. I have no words, no rage, no comeback. Which is not like me at all. DF has broken me, because what other explanation is there for my sudden passivity?
EMERSON
Somebody That I Used to Know// Gotye
I can't take my eyes off of her. Her eyes are closed, but even so I can see how her dark long lashes softly flutter as her body sways to the beat. Her shoulders rise and fall with her controlled breath, carrying the note out a little longer than the original singer. I watch and listen spellbound. Zoe has taken this song to a new place, and I now get why she has the following she does.
I'm hypnotized watching her lips. It was the same this morning, in the quad and in the hallway. Something about her just demands attention, and she's got all of mine. When the song finally ends, the entire room is somehow still vibrating with her voice, like an echo or an aftermath. I felt it, her voice. Felt it pierce through my whole body. Felt it penetrate my soul. Whatever that was that just happened, I need more.
Suddenly the room falls into silence and all eyes swing in my direction. Chelsea told me to be a "motherfucker not a pussy" at this audition, her words not mine, so I'm doing my best to channel Sid Vicious and his take-no-bullshit attitude. It's not the best way to win an audition but that's only half of the goal. The main reason I agreed to do this was to help the girl with the beats. And I can't help but smile as I spot her signature accessory sitting on a stool next to the microwave on the stage. They are normally cradled over her head like a crown. Queen indeed.
"Who are you?" asks the drummer.
Dylan, I assume, by the death glares Zoe is sending his way. "Emerson," I answer coolly. "I saw your flyer advertising for a lead singer. But like I said," I motion towards Zoe. "Looks like you're covered."
Zoe's face scrunches up and for a moment it looks as though she might cry, but then her expression changes and she becomes a whirlwind of motion as she stomps off the stage and rounds up on Dylan.
Chelsea was right. Zoe knew nothing about this, which confirms Dylan's asshole status. Only a complete tool would go behind his lead singer's back like this.
"Are you freaking kidding me? You are not replacing me, Dylan." She is standing in front of him, her arms crossed, her face full of anger. She slowly looks at each of her band mates. "Did you all know? What a bunch of spineless..." Her voice trails off and then she stomps her foot, clenches her hands, and lets out an almost primal growl.
The growl is sexy and that voice on stage was unforgettable. Honestly just about everything about this girl seems to do it for me. And that is when I make the decision that I need to spend more time with this girl, which means I need to do whatever it takes to stay, to become a part of this band. I look at the other band members and notice they don't have a bass player. This might just be my lucky day after all.
Dylan and Zoe are still facing off. No words are being exchanged, but if angry looks could kill, we would all be dead.
I decide it is time to change the narrative. "No bass? How is that possible?" My voice is louder than it needs to be. Everyone's attention swings back to me.
Dylan looks at me and rolls his eyes. Which is something no guy should ever do when sitting behind a drum kit. What is he, a freaking twelve-year-old girl?
Dylan looks me up and down then his eyes come to rest on the soft black case I'm holding in my left hand. His gaze narrows, obviously realizing why I asked about a bass player; because I am a bass player.
"Any musician worth his shit knows the bass line can be replicated on a keyboard. Besides I keep the rhythm. This is my band, if you hadn't noticed on the flyer that it's named after me," he says sounding like one of the rich dicks from my previous school
"Yeah, saw that. Isn't it unusual to name a band after the drummer? One who isn't also the lead singer?" I'm playing with fire by goading him, but honestly, I can't help myself. He's too easy to mess with.
He looks annoyed when he answers, "Nah, man. I'm following in the footsteps of guys like Jason Bonham. He's the drummer of his namesake band, The Jason Bonham Experience. It's been done."
"Um, who?" I cross my arms, trying to follow this guy's logic.
"The son of John Bonham, drummer for Led Zeppelin and arguably the best rock drummer of all time." Dylan tries to smirk, but the dude can't pull it off. It looks more like a grimace and makes me want to laugh my ass off.
"Is your dad a famous drummer?" I ask knowing the answer will be no. Because I just heard the guy's drumming skills. They do suck, as Chelsea warned me. I play the drums myself, so I know that this guy's drumming needs work.
"No. Listen, are you auditioning or what? We've got stuff to do so either sing or leave." Dylan's hands still clench the sticks as they rest on his legs, but his body language suddenly becomes rigid and he leans forward as he tries for a tough guy expression. A pretty lame attempt at intimidation.
I do actually care if I get into this band, but no way I can let Dylan know it. As far as he is concerned, I'm just an unaffected asshole. Sid Vicious would be proud.
Someone clears her throat loudly. I look over at the door. There stands Chelsea who gives me a quick two thumbs up before her gaze swings to Zoe. The moment her eyes set on Zoe, Chelsea's lips turn down. And suddenly Zoe and Chelsea are having some kind of staring contest, but I swear I get the impression it's more like Chelsea is busy reading Zoe's inner thoughts. The little she-witch.
And suddenly I wish I could read minds. I wonder what Zoe thinks of me.
I make some kind of sound, like a humph, and draw Chelsea's attention. She looks back at me and then winks before she steps into the garage.
Without saying another word, I open the case, grab my bass and step up onto the platform. I pick up the microphone and place it back in the center of the stage. They have an extra amp so I plug in and tune up. Seeing that Dylan seems to think the bass is unnecessary, I figure it's my duty to do my best to prove him wrong.
"You guys know Gotye? Somebody That I Used to Know?" The keyboardist nods and plays the beginning chords, followed by the guitarist picking up the melody.
A few minutes of jamming later, they nod over to me. If Dylan jumps in on drums, or not, won't matter. I picked this song because it has a really weak drum line. The bass carries the rhythm.
I look over at Zoe. It's my hope that Zoe will jump in with me for the duet section. Will she play along? God, I'm dying to find out.
The bass leads the song, so I get things started and the others jump in right away. As I open my mouth to sing the first line, my eyes connect with Zoe's. This song is her story, her pain, and I try to convey to her that I understand. It's about a breakup, a bad one, and each line is deeper in meaning than the last.
...Lonely in your company...
As I sing the words, she winces but she doesn't look away. My voice is smooth, quiet at the start, but picks up in intensity as the song continues.
Since I began to sing her eyes haven't left mine and this connection between the two of us feels so intimate for a moment, I forget I am singing to the group and not just to her.
...I still remember...Zoe nods as the words vibrate around the room. Our eyes are still locked and I know she feels it too, this connection we have.
The song picks up, faster and louder. I barely register that Dylan has joined us on the drums. My whole being is now focused on the music, on this song, on this moment in time here and now with this girl. ...stoop so low...The song is about to hit the duet and my heart beats faster as I wonder if Zoe will join in.
During the musical bridge leading up to that part, I raise one eyebrow at her, in a silent question. Will you sing with me?
And then she opens her mouth and her words mesh with mine and my whole world suddenly shifts.
...something that I'd done... Zoe is singing along with me, and it's everything. Her heart, her soul is in each note. I feel like I've being given a precious gift. She stands there looking at only me. Her words coming out are in melody with mine. At this moment I can't tell where she starts, and I end. I have never felt so connected to someone. Never felt so alive, so whole.
We keep singing and our voices blend together in a harmony that makes the hairs on my neck stand up, makes every nerve in my body hum along. It's a high, this feeling, like a drug and I'm already an addict. Holy shit.
The song comes to an end, but the feelings linger. The entire room is electrified, and I'm not the only one to feel it, not one person is making a sound. My eyes are locked with Zoe's and the connection is so strong, so intense, I have no words to describe it.
"I freaking thought so." Chelsea's smug voice is the first to break the charged silence. "Bam," she says loudly before clapping her hands.
Dylan let's out a groan behind me, and I can only hope it's in defeat. He can't deny what just happened here. It was magic. I'm a complete pessimist about life, but even I can't downplay how right this was.
"Not what I had in mind, but it looks like we've got two lead vocalists." Dylan says and then continues reluctantly "And...a bass player."
Score.
This was a long one! But did you feel it??? I mean, did you? The sparks flew between our girl and the guy playing the bass! The only question is, will Zoe go with it? Em sure did put Dylan in his place, bam! We'll find out all about the aftermath on the carpool ride home, that is if Chelsea gets everyone there in one piece!
Thank you once again for being here! Cat and I appreciate every single one of you! 🎧 Head over to catrinaburgess profile for our creepy romance, My Bloody Valentine 💔
Two songs this time, I actually love them both. But Zoe's got strong opinions...