"Please speak softly
Or they will hear us.
And they'll find out
Why we don't trust them." - Conspiracy
The rest of the school day was pretty much uneventful. My patience was wearing thin by the time we were let out for the day, since the gang kept pestering me about trying to come to their idols' concert. Each time, I declined, giving cliché excuses like "oh, well I have homework" or "sorry, curfew's at eight. (Which was true.) Can't make it." But let me tell you, those guys were persistent. In the end, I had to go out the back entrance of the school where the track field was located just so I could avoid their consistent whining. It wasn't as if I just confessed to murdering Oprah Winfrey, so why are they acting as if me not showing up to the concert was such a huge deal?
Because they care.
I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, frantically glancing around to see who had spoken. I had just left school about fifteen minutes ago and now I was on the way to Lakeside Park, with Rev in my hands. My electric blue gaze collided with nothing, only spotting an empty surrounding.
Tree branches swayed slowly in the breeze, the leaves creating a soft melodic whooshing noise. A stray piece of newspaper rolled across the empty street like a tumbleweed in the desert. Nothing seemed out of place and nobody had spoken.
That's when I realized that the voice who had spoken was my own, just inside my mind. Because they care? Carter, Olivia, Amber, Caden, and Xander. ... It wasn't possible for them to care for a pathetic, broken person like me. It wasn't worth it. I could never be fixed.
Adjusting the backpack on my shoulder, I took out my drum sticks and my Nano, shoving the earphones in my ears and turning the volume up. Twirling one stick in my hand, I tapped off a beat as the first song came on. And then, I was gone.
The music had taken over me once again and I could feel my muscles loosen as I relaxed into the steady rhythm of the song. I continued my slow trek to the park, tapping along the fences that I passed.
"I just wanna run, hide it away," I sang, my deep soprano voice getting lost in the wind as the breeze made my wavy locks blow around my face. Closing my eyes, I sang along to the music, feeling the thrill of performing although no one was around to see me. And that was when I liked it best. "Run because they're chasing me down. I just wanna run, throw it away. Run before they're finding me out."
By the time the third chorus had ended, I reached my destination and struck the final note, opening my eyes to meet face to face with the gate entrance as I sang, "I just wanna run."
Glancing through the little slits in the gate, I noticed that the park was bustling with people today, and I figured it must be because of the Tilted Reality performance. I just hoped that no one claimed my spot at The Bench. Shifting my sticks into one palm, I used the other to push the iron wrought gates open, letting it swing as I walked through the frame into the park.
There was a reason the place was called Lakeside and I watched as the afternoon sun's golden hues sparkled down onto the small man-made lake down the hill. Allowing myself a small half-smile, I continued my drumming reverie as the next song came up. Everywhere I glanced, posters and flyers for Tilted Reality's performance were plastered onto the trees, and I rolled my eyes at how much of a deal this was. I mean, come on. We were in Seattle; the heart of music. Bands like this weren't a one in a lifetime thing. Now unless they were Nirvana or Jimi Hendrix, I wouldn't rest my case. Humming quietly now since there were spectators around, I crossed the vast sea of romantic picnic-getters, the jungle of little kids swarming around their playground, and soon stumbled upon my oasis. My bench was finally in sight.
It always took a long time to fully circle the lake and it was further away from the entrance, which was why not many people relaxed by the back of the lakeside where my lovely bench was placed. By lovely, I meant that the wooden seat was starting to deteriorate. Ivy crawled up the legs and whenever I sat down, and a loud creaking sound was heard. Each time I would wonder if that would be the day that my butt went sailing onto the ground along with broken splinters. Yet, it still held a source of mysterious beauty that kept my interest. This was why I only sat at this bench whenever I came to Lakeside. It was lonely, and in a way so was I. Sure, I had so-called friends, but unable to feel any emotion except negative ones, I found myself lonely in my own little world too.
So, I took a seat on the old, rickety bench and sat Indian-style, with my legs on the bench and crossed. Rev was in my hands, music was blasting through my ears, and the sun was shining on the surface of the water, producing a beautiful sight that I could never really get used to. And at that moment, everything was perfect.
As soon I opened the door to the apartment, I was met with the putrid stink of alcohol and I instantly covered my nose, scrunching it up in distaste.
"Marco?" I called out, cautiously taking a step inside the dark home. I left the park about a half-hour ago once the sun had started its descent. It was probably around 7:00 PM, and I still had to make dinner for me and my step-father.
When no response came, I closed the door behind me and flicked on the lights. There was an irritated roar and I instantly turned the lights back off, realizing the smell came from Marco probably spending the remnants of our grocery money on beer. My best bet was that he was hung over right now. My high spirits crashed and I shook off my shoes, heading deeper into the cave that was the Carson household.
Making my way to the kitchen, I caught a glimpse of Marco lying face down on the ground in the living room. Inwardly, I cringed knowing that when I was going to wake him up for dinner, it wouldn't be a pretty sight.
Twenty minutes and two packs of Insta-Ramen later, Marco and I were sitting at the small island with two steaming bowls of Korean noodles poised in front of us; Marco sported new tired bags under his eyes, while I was recently blessed with a new bruise on my collarbone.
I sat there, my bowl of Ramen untouched, analyzing the way my step-dad slurped away at the noodles carefreely, as if we were a normal family. As if Mom weren't dead, we weren't living in poverty, and he wasn't an abusive father. A slight shiver of disgust ran up my spine.
A part of me always thought that I should probably tell someone one day. About how I live like this, with this constant battle against myself and my step-father. But if that happened, I would lose Marco and even if he wasn't my best bet, he was all I had left. I couldn't leave. Where would I go? I didn't necessarily love it here but that didn't mean I could just run away and end up starving on the streets. Besides, my 18th birthday was coming up. Only then would I think of the possibility of moving out and finding a job far away from here in order to provide for myself. I would even send money to Marco. Because I was just that nice.
The thoughts continuously swarmed in my head and pretty soon, I started feeling lightheaded. Like I always did when I thought of running away. It was if there was a new feeling being unlocked inside of me whenever the thoughts occurred.
"I'm not hungry." I declared, pushing my bowl away from me. And I really wasn't. My appetite disappeared along with the hope of escaping my life. Marco let out a grunt and mindlessly took my bowl and brought it to his face, slurping away. I watched as the soup dribbled down his chin and then pushed up from the table. "Excuse me."
Marco didn't even acknowledge my absence as I made my way to my room, locking the door and flopping onto my bed. Lying down and staring at the ceiling, I willed myself to relax as I reached for Rev on my dresser. The calmness I was waiting for took over as soon as my hand brushed the wood and even though it was only eight, I felt drowsiness take over me and saw the black swirling at the corners of my eyes. I caught a glance at the sleeping pills kept on my dresser; the doctor prescribed them because ever since Mom committed suicide, I had a bad case of insomnia. But that wasn't the case tonight.
My eyes closed and I started floating off into unconsciousness when suddenly, a strong, rough hand wrapped around my mouth, stopping me from crying out. I felt my eyes snap open but they just wouldn't adjust fast enough and all I could make out was the blurry shape of my attacker.
Was it Marco? I thought, still in a state of shock as the mystery person grabbed my arms with their free hand and hoisted me off my bed, knocking Rev out of my hands, and other assorted things off my dresser.
Finally, some sort of awareness registered and I shoved back, making the person fall to the ground. Sadly, I fell along with them. "Ack!" The person cried out and I'm pretty sure that the voice was male. Scrambling to my feet, I got into a defensive stance and watched the shadowy figure rise too, holding up its hands in the universal sign for surrender.
"Lacey, calm down, it's just—" He started, and the voice seemed familiar but the adrenaline was coursing through my veins and before I knew it, I punched him right smack in the jaw.
"Ow!" We both exclaimed. He put a hand to his mouth and I shook my right fist while wincing a bit at the sudden pain shooting up it, but quickly composed myself as I watched my attacker come closer to me. Instinctively I slid to the ground, bringing my entire leg around and hooking them around the male's legs, pulling them out from under him. He toppled to the ground and I lunged at his fallen body, straddling his waist while grabbing the neckline of his shirt and yanking his upper body up. I dragged his face up to mine and sneered, "Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my room?"
Just then, the lights flickered on and I was met with the shocked gaze of Xander and for a second, my emotions were caught as my eyes widened in surprise too.
"Well, well. I always knew you two would hook up one day. What a sexy position you have going on there. Feisty." A voice giggled from the window and I saw Olivia sitting on the windowsill, looking at my compromising situation on the floor.
"Awww, cute. Look at them, Olive!" Amber crooned from the other side of the room, by the light switch. Her eyes sparkled with amusement and I felt my cheeks go warm.
"Cute, my ass. Sheesh, Lacey. Since when can you pack a punch?" Xander moaned from underneath me and my gaze flicked down to where I was still straddling him. My eyes widened further at the thick red on that covered his cheeks, but even more so at the formulating bruise on his jawline. Did I do that?
"Well, I am a delinquent." I retorted, using his earlier words as I rolled off of him and rubbed my sore knuckles. "What are you guys doing here? And how did you even get in?"
Olivia smirked and held out a manicured hand, examining her bright pink nail polish. "I'm not as innocent as you make me out to be. Picking locks are my favorite past time." She winked.
Rolling her eyes, Amber made her way over to me and Xander, where I was helping him up. "And we're here to take you to that concert, Lace. Caden's out in the truck and Carter said she's meeting us at the gig, so get your butt out that window!"
"Hey, this is a form of kidnapping!" I eyed them all, not budging from my spot. "Besides, I can't just sneak out at night. I told you all my curfew's at 8 sharp!"
"You were serious about that?" Xander asked, cocking his head to one side curiously.
"Yes! Now, go on and have your fun—"
"That's a really pathetic curfew for a teenager your age, Lace."
"Xander, shut up."
"Oh, well. Guess we'll have to take you by force." Olivia grinned mischievously and Amber snapped, causing Xander to grin and scoop me up bridal-style.
"The hell-?" I exclaimed, flailing a bit. "Xander! Put me down!"
"Mm, no. This is quite nice." Xander laughed and he carried me to the window while I punched at his chest. "That doesn't hurt, Lacey."
"Oh, yeah? Want me to punch your face again?" I snapped but he just shrugged it off, setting me down at the front of the window. The three of them cornered me and I started feeling a little claustrophobic, shrinking back a bit.
"Listen, Lacey. We don't want to force you into doing something you don't want. But what we want is for you to come. You're our friend and we want you there. It wouldn't be the same without you." Olivia said with a small smile. She scooted out the open window and onto one of the branches of the old oak tree right outside my room. "So, it's your choice. You can stay here while we have the time of our lives, or..."
Amber jumped out next, landing on the branch right beside where Olivia was standing. "Or you can come with us!" She grinned.
My thoughts swirled in my head, torn between actually trying to live my life, or the consequences of my soon to be actions. Marco was really strict about curfew, and I've never broken it before. I was always too afraid, because I knew what my step-dad was capable of. And face it, I was a coward. Being hurt so many times, I was just terrified of being hurt again. Emotionally, though. Physical hurt is nothing compared to the pain I feel inside.
But Olivia's words echoed in my mind, making my will crash onto the carpet underneath my feet. You're our friend. The guilt consumed me and my eyes readjusted to the scene in front of me. Olivia and Amber were perched on the sturdy branches of the tree just outside my window, expectant looks on their faces. Xander stood by the window, one leg already outside. My gaze locked with his and he smiled warmly, extending his hand out me.
I was hit with an Disney's Aladdin déja vu and my last resort crumbled. With one last glance at my locked bedroom door, I imagined the countless times Marco had beaten me in this very spot. Willing myself not to cringe, I thought of him just a few feet away, probably passed out on the kitchen table where I left him. He wouldn't notice my absence, would he? I mean, he's barely even noticed me before.
"Lace?" Xander's voice dragged me out of thoughts again, and I focused on his hand reached out towards me. With a sigh, I took it hesitantly as he grinned and helped me climb out of the window.
"Alright, but you all so owe me."
The parking lot was filled. And by filled, I mean jam-packed. Cars of all shapes, sizes, and colors littered the streets and it took forever for Caden to find a parking spot. Was Tilted Reality really that important?
Well, I guess when a hot-shot, on-the-rise band comes to your city and does a live concert in a friendly environment for freaking free, you'd want to go too. And in a way, I guess I was a little excited.
1) I was breaking the rules for once and it felt pretty badass.
2) It was my first concert; I guess I should enjoy it at least a little bit.
3) Maybe letting a little bit of my real self out was a good thing?
After circling the park a bit (There was already a crowd by The Bench and it made me a little upset), we met up with Carter and her own band; Within These Cages were composed of her, Seb, Aislinn, and Austin. After the initial greetings, our large group weaved in and out of the crowd and finally came to a good position just a few feet from the made-up stage.
"This is going to be so awesome." Olivia squealed and I shifted uncomfortably, hating being around so many people in close proximity. This had better be worth it.
"Gooooooood evening, ladies and gentlemen!" A booming soprano voice sliced through the noise, making the crowd fall dead silent in anticipation.
"Oh my God, that's Vanessa's voice!" Amber half whispered, half shrieked, and the name vaguely struck a chord in my mind. Was she the bassist for the group? Wait, no. The guitarist?
While contemplating the thoughts in my brain, I completely blanked out until I was brought back to the present by the hundreds of screams from the crowd. I winced, focusing back on stage where the band Tilted Reality finally made their appearance.
There were two girls and two guys. One of the females was wearing a tight-fitted VersaEmerge shirt and dark blue skinny jeans combined with a pair of Doc Martens. Her pitch black hair stood messily on all sides, as if she just rolled out of bed, but it suited her image and made her look pretty cool. A light yellow guitar was behind her back as she ran up to the microphone and nearly yanked it off the stand, yelling into it enthusiastically, "Can we get some clapping going?" Immediately, the crowd started clapping in beat while a loud, guitar riff sliced through the night, introducing the next band member. The next person to pop onstage was a guy with dark brown hair that fell straight, his bangs getting in the way of his right eye. He wore a black Metallica shirt with the sleeves ripped off, jeans, and Osiris shoes. I watched as he started into a guitar solo that got the crowd screaming again, introducing his instrument. The body of the guitar was a beautiful aquamarine, rimmed with golden specks, and it reminded me of my own eyes.
"Who are they again?" I shouted over the blaring noise of the both the electric guitar and the crowd's shrill cheers. My memory was failing me; I listened to their music occasionally but I had no idea who they were.
Carter appeared beside me, grinning like an idiot. "The singer's Vanessa Lynston. She also does rhythm guitar, and the attractive brunet with the guitar is Zeke Carmichael, who also does vocals. He's like, my idol when it comes to playing electric."
I gave her a nod when the guitar abruptly stopped and the sound of a deep, rumbling note took its place. I recognized the rich tones as a bass guitar and watched as another female took the stage, holding a blood red bass guitar with skulls painted onto the body of her instrument. She wore a laced up red corset that made er, certain female traits pop, and a long, flowing, black gothic skirt that made her seem like she was floating across the stage. Her combat boots were studded and a thick layer of eyeliner coated her eyes, making the bright emerald pop. She played her own little solo which consisted of her fingers flying on the frets. A beautiful grin adorned her face; the exact opposite of her get-up.
I nudged Carter and she smirked, pointing at the bass player. "That's Katerina DeMarco. Don't let her creepy exterior fool you, I heard she was an adorable ball of energy." And all too soon, the low bass stopped and we were met with silence. I frowned, remembering that TR had four members, and that the most important member was missing.
The drummer.
Standing on my toes like everyone else, we all waited to get a glimpse of Tilted Reality's last member. When no one came out, hushed murmurs broke out among the audience, including my own group. I payed no attention and kept my eyes glued to the stage, watching the reactions on the band members' faces. Katerina was beaming, Vanessa was rolling her eyes, and Zeke had a slight smirk on his face.
All of a sudden, smoke covered the floor of the stage and the lights were dimmed so I could only see the outlines of the three members. Soon, the park was silent once more. A figure rose from behind the set, and I arched a delicate eyebrow. He wasn't there before...
The drummer's arms lifted dramatically into the air, and my breath caught as I sensed what was going to happen before it did. His arms came crashing down and just as the his sticks hit the snares, the lights flashed on, revealing who the sensation was behind the drums.
My breath caught in my chest as I watched his drumming, the movement captivating me almost instantly. The crowd's incessant buzzing seemed to disappear as I focused only on the wonderful sounds his instrument was producing. His own mini-solo was filled with the effects of each part of the drum set and his hair flipped as he struck away, in complete concentration. The rhythm was intense and perfectly timed, as if he had been practicing for hours but improvising at the same time.
He was amazing.
And when the final hi-hat cymbal was hit, the crash reverberated around the stage, all I could hear was that one left over pitch until I shook my head and the noise of the crowd returned. I yearned for more as I took in the drummer's appearance. And then I felt as if I was hit a second time. His hair was a dark shade of brown; so dark that it was nearly as black as Vanessa's hair, and natural golden highlights sparkled under the stage lights. His hair was messy and damp, the bangs falling into his eyes and clinging to the sides of his almond-shaped face. The contours of his muscles surpassed even Xander's, and I was hardly surprised: He was a drummer after all. Wearing a dark navy Linkin Park shirt and loose-fitting jeans, I couldn't take my eyes off of him.
My hands found their way to Carter's shoulders again, shaking her a little too forcefully. She blinked and then glanced down at me, taking in my flushed cheeks and slightly glazed eyes. "Who's he?" I asked, pointing almost eagerly at the dark-haired angel, who had just settled back into his seat and was tapping off the counts on his drumsticks to introduce the rest of the band into the song.
Carter eyed me skeptically before grinning and chuckling a bit. "That's Blake Mercer, Lacey. Why are you so anxious about it?"
With a jolt, I snapped out of the daze I was in after listening to Blake's drumming and I quickly composed myself. How was I so stupid to let my emotions show? It didn't feel right to show how much music meant to me to someone other than myself. And it even felt weird just smiling. "Anxious? What are you talking about?" I snapped, turning away from her coldly and pretending not to be interested in the band at all.
"And she's back." Carter rolled her eyes and nudged me slightly, making me jump a bit. "Jeez, Lace. Relax a bit and just enjoy the music."
I didn't respond; that was already what I was planning to do.
I hadn't caught Tilted Reality's last song since I had been too caught up with Carter but this time when Blake clacked his sticks together, I closed my eyes and focused on the music. And when Zeke struck the first chord, it was something I didn't expect.
I was expecting some hardcore, metal screamo and horrible acoustics and riffs, but no. The bad on stage dove into a playful, pop-punk cover of We Are The In Crowd's Rumor Mill. The exact opposite of the music that they produced. The crowd seemed to notice too because the mosh-pits disassembled, the cheering quieted ever so slightly, and Caden yelled, "Play Destroy It All!" But the band seemed to ignore the crowd's reactions and continued on with their song.
Vanessa gripped the microphone in her hand and sang, "Here we go again, it's like you're calling all the shots before I shoot them. And I hate that! And every time I turn my back, I wonder what you'll say to make me sound like someone different!"
Zeke stepped up to the microphone, his raspy voice bringing an edge to his part as he yelled, "It's not worth it anymore!"
Her rich, alto voice combined with the different ranges of her backup vocalists, Katerina and Zeke, sent shivers up my spine as I listened. They played incredibly in sync; I would catch Zeke glancing to Katerina and Vanessa to perfect his timing. Then, Vanessa would head bang and sing the chorus with so much energy that the remaining crowd (those who hadn't left saying things like, "What a rip-off" and "Losers. They don't even sound like themselves. What stunt are they trying to pull?"), giving the one-fingered salute to a guy in the crowd who yelled about them being a sellout.
"I don't ever wanna know what it feels like to be a shadow of myself! And I don't ever wanna come back down from this feeling. What makes you think that you know what's better for me? And I don't think you wanna see what's underneath your made-up version of me." They sang altogether, the harmonies and melodies blending together as one. Their voices sounded almost pleading, as if the song held a secret message that they desperately wanted their audience to hear.
And even though my friends were complaining about the change in music genre, most of the crowd had left, and the remaining spectators just ignored the famous rock band, I stood rooted to the spot, taking in their music with an open heart. Because for the first time since I listened to their music, I heard something that made their sound more magical than it already was. There was something that was missing before that I could clearly see now in their energetic head banging, emotional singing, and the twinkling in their eyes.
My gaze caught with Blake's as he brought the song to a close with a literal bang, and he grinned at me. I couldn't help but answer back with a small smile myself. He didn't even know me yet he smiled because just like whenever I drummed, the music had taken over and I couldn't help but feel the aftermath of it later.
That night, I gained new respect for the band called Tilted Reality. Because tonight, I finally heard it.
Their passion.
—
Dedicated to Starfern because, yo man, she's super chill. And like, my best friend. She has this amazing story up called Lithium City. You should all read it, comment and vote!
—Isabelle