I remember when I thought I was dreaming, that being in a band was all one big fantasy. But it wasn't. I was finally part of something bigger than myself and that secret fantasy I have of becoming a professional singer seemed like it might happen. Not right away, of course, but someday. Or maybe it could happen right away.
Maybe there would be a talent agent passing by the school during the battle of the bands. He would see the sign out front, be intrigued, and come in to hear some amateur live music.
He wouldn't be very impressed with the other acts but as soon as our band hit the stage his jaw drops and hit the floor as he slowly sinks down into a chair in the back. After the show he would rush backstage to meet us and immediately sign us to a multi album contract.
Our lives would change forever. People would literally toss money at us; we'd travel the world and be on the covers of magazines. We would do the talk show circuit and everyone would want to hang out with us until our money ran out and the band broke up. Our falling out with be epic, complete with screaming fights, scandals, and childish tantrums.
After going our own ways for years and working on solo projects someone would persuade us to do a comeback tour. We'd barely want to be in the same room let alone walk on stage together in city after city, venue after venue, and entertain millions of screaming fans but, once again, the money would be too good and we can't just walk away from the fame and fortune.
Of course there are two more reasons, two far better reasons, why we would want to converge on the stage once again.
We still love to play. It sounds incredibly cheesy but it's in our blood. It's what we've always done and what we always will do. Together or apart we're musicians and if we're honest with ourselves we sound better as a group than as individuals both then and now.
Even after years of separation, there will still be something about the way our voices come together when we harmonize that still sends chills up my spine. We still read each other's musical cues and despite our successes as solo artists playing off one another seems more natural than anything we do alone.
And the best part? We become friends again, which is all I've ever really wanted out of this whole make it as a famous musician thing. Well, that and
It's a nice ending to our story, isn't it? But it's just a fantasy, just my wishful thinking, my insane musings. Let's face it-fame and fortune are not in my future. Or my present.
In reality, Isabelle snatched what's sure to be my only opportunity to do that I love for a living and gave it to someone else. I wish I could call the police and tell them that someone stole something from me. But what would I say when they asked me what it was? My only hope for happiness?
While I'd like to see them slap the cuff on Isabelle and throw her in the back of a squad car, I don't think that's very realistic. A slow smile spreads across my face as I imagine her with her nose pressed against the back window, crying and confused, as they take her away. Rationally, I know this fantasy isn't very nice and I would never actually call the police on Isabelle no matter how much she's hurt me but, like making it big in the music business, it's all an impossible dream.
My reality comes back into focus and I start to look around my wreck of a room. For the first time in a long while I have the urge to purge anything I don't need as I get my regular old live back in order. I'm going to be spending a lot of time in this room so why not make it look as nice as possible?
Two hours and many breaks later my room is starting to look like it used to. Neat, orderly, everything in its place. Just how I like it. Or just how I thought I liked it. My smallish room became a symbol of my life in a way. It got messy just when my life became equally messy and incredibly complicated, at least for someone like me who can't handle much without my anxiety spinning out of control.
Not it's orderly and boring. Just like my old life and my old me. I shake my head in an effort to snap out of this awful, feel sorry for yourself mood. My back is killing me from all the work so I lie down on my bed with my favorite book XXX and try to focus on the story XXX is telling. I used to get lost in this book and all the others on my shelf. Now, I just feel tired and my eyes start to shut as the book falls from my hands onto my bed.
I start to fall into that delicious space between being awake and fully asleep where your body is settling in and everything around you disappears into a soft haze. A sharp knock on my bedroom door pulls me back into consciousness and I stumble over to the door and throw it open.
There, on the other side, stand three people I never thought I'd see again. Thomas, Eli, and Isabelle are all crowded into the doorway, each one looking more awkward than the next.
I narrow my eyes. "What do you want?"
Thomas and Eli both nudge Isabelle but she doesn't move or say anything. Her face is red and she almost looks like she's going to cry. Eli rolls his eyes and practically shoves her forward. She falls into my room and I hold out my arms so she doesn't fall.
We stare at a each other for one incredibly awkward moment before Isabelle jerks back onto her feet and smooths her clothes. She clears her throat. "So, how are you?"
My head feels like it's going to explode. She's come here to make small talk? "Seriously? How am I?"
She looks back at the guys and they both glare at her. Isabelle looks back at me, looks like she's going to say something, and then shuts her mouth again. This is getting really irritating.
I cross my arms in front of me. "Either say something or leave. Now."
"Fine," she sighs. "So, turns out that XXX really can't sing unless she's surrounded by the rest of the choir. On her own, well..."
Thomas and Eli finish her sentence. "She sucks."
I'm still not impressed. "What does that have to do with me?"
Isabelle finally breaks down and starts pleading with me. "It's not just that, Carter. She just doesn't fit with the sound we want. You know, like you do. We need you back. If you can, I mean, if you want to do it."
She looks like she's going to cry and while a little part of me feels a little twinge of regret at what I'm about to do I can't do it. I can't just jump back up on the stage and sing my heart out while it's still broken.
"Please Carter." She's crying for real now. "If it means anything the guys knew I was thinking of asking someone else to sing in the band but they told me not to do it. They were really pissed when they found out I came over here that day."
"Then why didn't they overrule you or something? It's not like you have the final say in everything we do."
Isabelle looks down at her feet. "I told them that you were definitely out and that you said it was OK to bring in XXX. When you wouldn't answer anyone's calls or texts they just kind of...gave up."
She's speaking so softly I can barely hear her but I get the message loud and clear. I can't look at her anymore and shift my gaze to Eli and Thomas. "So you just gave up on me? Both of you?"
Thomas and Eli look like they'd rather be anywhere else than standing in front of me. Thomas finally looks me in the eyes. "We don't know what to say."
Out of everything they've done to me, this is by far the worst. "You don't know what to say? Really? How about, hey, Carter, I wish we could turn back time and undo this? Or maybe we didn't mean to just freaking give up on you? Or, and this might be the best one yet, without you, our band is incomplete and we won't go on without you?"
Isabelle's sad look is replaced by one of irritation. "It wasn't personal, Carter. You were still our friend."
"It was the most personal thing ever, Isabelle. And no, once you did this I wasn't your friend anymore." My chest hurts but instead of worrying that this is yet another mystery illness coming for me, I know it's my truly my heart breaking. I always thought it was a story, something that wasn't real, but it's actually a raw, thudding pain that's reaching up to my ears.
The room is completely silent for two beats of my erratic heart until my shrill voice cuts right through. "Go. It's time for you all to go."
For a moment I think they're going to protest, to beg me to go with them, but they just silently shuffle out the door, down the stairs, and out of my life.
I miss them as soon as my door is shut. A quick knock on the other side jump starts my heart and my mood immediately improves as I think they've come back for me.
I fling open the door. "Come back to beg some more?" I'm really hoping they are. But just because want to see them again it doesn't mean I don't want them to show me how sorry they are again.
But it's not Isabelle, Thomas, or Eli. It's Michael. He never knocks on my door, preferring to fling it open when he wants to talk to me about something dork related like his new Dungeons & Dragons group.
Imagine it-a flock of nerds converging on our house every other week to take over the dining room table as they laugh uncontrollably and talk in incredibly weird character voices. The sound is deafening and a little frightening.
I walk back to my bed and flop down on my stomach. "What do you want?"
Michael follows me and does the same only he's so big he nearly bounces me right off the bed.
"Watch it!" I act all irritated but soon we're both laughing as I move over to give him some more room.
He sighs. "So, I heard your conversation with the band and I think you're making a huge mistake."
I smack him on the arm. "Why the hell were you listening to us?"
He rolls his eyes. "I can hear almost anything you say. The walls are thin."
Great. "OK-so, why am I making a mistake? Not that it really matters what you think."
He flops over onto his back, nearly sending me to the ground again. "Yeah, Isabelle was a bitch, but do you really want to let her get in the way of your dreams?"
I smile despite feeling sick to my stomach at kicking my friends out of my room. I'm still pissed and incredibly hurt but I'm letting that get in the way of what I really want. So, the question remains-what's more important? My pride or my dreams?
I throw my arm around Michael and give him an awkward half hug before jumping up from my bed. I don't feel dizzy or woozy so I take this as a sign that I should get my ass in gear and do what I need to do.
I start to dart out of my room but stop at the door and whip around to face Michael who's still sprawled on my bed. "First, thank you. Who knew you were so insightful? Second, is mom home? And third, get off my bed and out of my room!"
Michael pulls himself up and rolls his eyes. "She's in the kitchen. And I'm going, I'm going."
He laughs as he pushes me out into the hallway, and takes a left turn into his room.
I run down the stairs and nearly fall into the kitchen where my mother is standing at the sink, loading the dishwasher. "Mom!"
"What?" she yells back, nearly dropping the dish she was shoving in the already full dishwasher.
"Can you drive me somewhere?"
She sighs. "Sure, I guess. Where?"
"Hurry up-I'll give you the directions in the car."
Ten minutes later we pull up in front of Isabelle's house. My mom whistles as she takes it all in. "I forgot how big this place is. No wonder she's such a spoiled brat."
"She's really not, mom. She just wants to be a musician. No matter what."
I get out of the car, turn to say goodbye to my mom, and find she's already starting to walk up the front stairs.
I frantically run up to her. "What do you think you're doing?"
She stops and glares at me, but I know I'm not the one she's mad at. "I'm just going to make sure your friend Isabelle really wants you here." She makes finger quotes when she says the word friend and from the look in her eye, I can tell there's going to be no stopping her from marching up those steps.
Sure enough, my mother speed walks up the stairs with me desperately trying to keep up with her.
She aggressively jabs the doorbell and stands in front of it, arms folded, waiting to mow down whoever is unlucky enough to answer.
Turns out Isabelle drew the short straw and opened the door to see my mother's homicidally angry face. Where was her staff when she needed them?
She smiles at me and then turns pale when her eyes cut to my mom. "Uh...hi?"
My mom starts walking forward and because there is no stopping her when she's like this, Isabelle backs up with her hands held out in front her as though she knows she's going to have to physically defend herself at one point.
"Mrs. Rose. How are you? Carter-what are you doing here?"
"How am I? What is my daughter doing here?" My mom's voice takes on a shrill quality. She stops shrieking for a minute and looks like she's really considering Isabelle's questions. "I'm OK-my daughter not so much since you pulled your crap-and I honestly don't know why Carter would even want to be here or see you."
Before Isabelle passes out from fright, I step between the two of them. "Mom-I'm here because I want back in the band. Isabelle-I still think you're a jerk, well, a bitch, really, but I'm almost getting over it. And I decided that just for now I'm going to be like you. I want to sing. In a band. In our band. And I care about that more than I care about what you did to me."
My mom opens her mouth to protest and I take a huge risk in holding up my hand so she won't speak. "It's OK, mom. This is what I want. The moment I feel sick I'll call you. If Isabelle acts like a big douchebag again, I'll call you. If I can't get a ride home, I'll call you. Trust me. I'll call you."
My mother stares at me for a very uncomfortable, very long moment and finally says, "Fine. Just remember to call me."
We both start laughing and Isabelle starts looking more confused than terrified. "So...do you want to go out back? Eli and Thomas are there, sulking. They'll be thrilled you're back."
I turn to her. "What are you waiting for? Let's go."
Isabelle turns in a circle with her hands in the air. The déjà vu in this moment is strong and for a minute I think I've gone back in time to when we first met, back to before she betrayed me.
My mom taps me on the shoulder and I look back at her. She's ridiculous with her tears in her eyes but she's smiling and I think she might be proud of me. "Don't do anything stupid." So, she can't say she's proud but I still know she is.
With that, she's gone. I'm a little nervous because her exit seemed way too easy but I'm much more interested in seeing the guys, especially Thomas. We head back to the patio and I see them sitting on the stage, neither looking especially happy.
Isabelle rushes ahead of me and screams. "Look who's here!"
Eli jumps up and runs over to me. "Jesus, Isabelle! You scared the crap out of us." He hugs me too tight and quickly steps back. "I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?"
I grab him and pull him back into another hug. "I'm not going to break, Eli."
He spins me around and when he finally lets go I'm standing right in front of Thomas, who wraps me in his arms, kisses me on the head, and whispers in my ear. "I am so glad you're here."
I lean back and smile up at him. "Me too."
We stand like that for a minute before Isabelle clears her throat. "This is all warm and fuzzy and all that but the contest is tomorrow. Want to practice so we don't sound like shit when we take the stage?"
I'm sure it's because we're nervous but we all start laughing like this is the funniest thing we've ever heard and head to our places on the stage like nothing every went down between us all. It feels natural and that tight feeling in my chest starts to dissipate. Maybe this is where I'm meant to be after all, singing on a stage. God, I hope so.
We practice all night, try out so many songs, and decide to play Young Volcanoes at the contest tomorrow. I can sing it well and everyone else knows it so it's a no brainer, really. The night goes by so fast and I can feel myself fading. I need to sleep before I crash right here on the ground and I don't want a repeat of that.
I call my mom to come pick me up because even though I can tell Thomas is waiting for me to ask him, I don't want him taking me home. At least not tonight. I miss him but I'm still hurt so he's just going to have to wait until I'm over it all. And if he doesn't wait? Then I guess he wasn't worth my time in the first place.
That thought startles me. I must be growing up or becoming more confident. Or something.
My mom picks me up and, to my surprise, asks only two questions on the way home.
"Are you back in the band?"
"Yes."
"Can we come to the concert tomorrow?"
"Of course."
She nods her head and we drive home in silence.
I wake up far too early the next morning. I'm anxious, excited, terrified, and hopeful. It takes me forever to pick out what will look best on stage and I finally settle on black leggings, a black tank, and a black flowy sheer top that ties around my waist. The only color comes from my Converse. They're bright purple and completely covered in sequins.
I look in the mirror one last time before heading downstairs. I don't see my mom anywhere and we need to leave right now.
"Mom!" No answer, no mom, house is silent. Did they leave without me? I start to panic. Even if I could drive these days I'm sure the only car left in the driveway is my dad's work van and I wouldn't attempt to drive that beast on a good day.
I run to the front door, fling it open, and find my parents and brother standing on the front porch with Thomas. My parents are laughing at something Thomas said and Michael is trying to show Thomas something on his phone. Probably something about Dungeons & Dragons or another equally geeky interest.
"What the hell is going on?" They ignore me so I raise my voice to almost a yell. "Hello? What's going on?"
My dad turns to me and acts like he's shocked to see me. "Oh, hey Carter! You all ready for your big concert?"
"Uh, yeah. Can we go?" I stare at Thomas wondering how he fits into our family trip to the high school to see my stage debut.
My dad shakes his head. "We're not leaving yet. You guys need to be there way before we do. Thomas is taking you."
My eyes dart back and forth between everyone on the porch. "He is?" I'm excited but irritated. The thought of being alone with him in his car is intriguing but they're acting like I don't have a say in the matter.
My mom puts her arm around my shoulders. "Carter-go. We'll be right behind you."
My head feels fuzzy and my feet like lead, but I nod and follow Thomas to his car. I look back at my family. They're all waiving at me with ridiculously huge smiles on their faces. It's like they've been taken over by pod people.
Thomas walks me to his car and opens the passenger door. "What the hell did you say to my family to make them love you so much?"
He shrugs his shoulders and smiles. "That I was sorry I hurt you, that you were an amazing singer and person, and that I would never hurt you again."
I almost roll my eyes at his mushy declaration. But as I get in the car I happen to glance up and see how serious and nervous he looks so instead of silently mocking him I put my hand on the back of his neck, pull him down, and give him a quick kiss.
He looks a little less nervous now. "Are we OK?"
I smile up at him as I get in the car. "We're getting there."
Isabelle and Eli are waiting backstage for us. Like me, Eli is wearing all black but unlike me he hasn't jazzed up his ensemble with sparkly shoes. Even his beanie hat is black.
I laugh and hug him. "Are you going to a poetry reading after this?"
He pretends to be offended. "You mock my rock clothes?"
That makes me laugh even harder. "Rock clothes? OK-if you say so. Seriously, though. You look awesome." He's smiling but fidgeting with his guitar strap. He's just as nervous as I am.
True to her nature, Isabelle doesn't seem nervous at all. She's mumping up and down, full of energy. "I saw the band list. We go on third."
"How many bands are there?" Thomas speaks up for the first time since we arrived back stage.
"Five."
Thomas' eyes widen. "That's it?"
"What's wrong with that?" we all ask at the same time.
"Those aren't great odds. We just might come in last."
Isabelle scowls at him. "Stop it! We're not going to come in last. Anyway-only the top three bands win a prize. If we come in fourth or fifth, well, then..."
She trails off, not wanting to even say that we might not even be good enough to come in third place.
My stomach rolls and knots up. This is getting way too real for me and I consider sneaking out the side door. But I can't do that after I made everyone feel like shit for temporarily abandoning me.
I start to feel a little woozy and sit down. The rest of the band immediately circles me, staring down in concern.
"I'm OK-really. I haven't passed out in like two days."
Isabelle looks horrified. "Two days? What if you collapse on the stage? What if we can't finish the song? What if..."
Eli claps his hand over her mouth. "Shut up, Isabelle. She's fine."
I silently mouth thank you to him and remember just how lucky I am to have Eli in my life.
We watch the first two bands from backstage and the first one is better than the second but they're both better than us. I know we're a new band and that we just got back together after our brief break but I really want this. I feel Isabelle but all of a sudden this contest is the most important thing in the world to me.
The second band finishes its song to a huge burst of applause from the audience. Maybe that's a good thing for us. The first band was definitely the best so far but the crowd seems really pumped up and ready to like anything that's up next. If that's the case, they're going to absolutely love us.
The MC takes the stage. "And now, for our third group of musical hopefuls, give it up for Band X singing Fall Out Boy's Young Volcanos!"
I have to laugh as I take my place behind the microphone. After all those ridiculous band names, that's what we end up calling ourselves. Band X. Esoteric Liquor but Band X is somehow a much better fit for us.
For a second I'm terrified that Isabelle, Thomas, and Eli will forget how to play their instruments and I'll totally blank on the lyrics. But the music starts and I open my mouth and out comes the song, one I love so much, one I've always wanted to sing. Not in my bedroom alone with my worn stuffed animals as an audience. Not in the shower with my voice echoing off the tile. But here, on a stage, with people listening and singing along and applauding.
The lyrics flow out of me and I'm at ease on that stage as I sway to the beat of the drum. I close my eyes and feel the music run through me as I throw my arms in the air and sing with power, with all the energy I can muster. Tomorrow my body might pay for what I'm doing to it tonight but just for right now I feel no pain.
I dance and twirl around the microphone like I've been doing it all my life. The band plays on behind me in perfect rhythm, backing me up, making me sound better than I ever thought I could. The audience is on their feet, singing along, giving me a high like no other. I'm finally where and who I'm supposed to be. And it's amazing.