AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“So how’s the band?” Jeremy asks, surprising me with a much-appreciated change of subject.
“Good, it’s going really good. Like, beyond what I was expecting.”
Last month, Shawn, Waylon, and I finally decided to put ourselves out there…
Sort of.
It was Ivy’s idea, mostly.
Figuring why the fuck not, we donned on some ski masks, and had Ivy and Will record us playing one of our originals—a song Waylon and I wrote together, dedicated to Izzy—and then uploaded it online.
While it was inspired by the grief of losing her…
Like anything you create, it’d taken on a mind of its own. Became something more. Something raw and relatable, gutted from every bad thing that’s happened to us.
We called it “Chokehold.”
And it went viral within twenty-four hours of being posted.
How, I have no fucking idea. I thought we’d at least have to build up a steady online presence first—bring in followers. But for whatever reason, the universe, for once, said, “Here, have this.” Rather than take something from us.
Jeremy eyes me knowingly. “You guys are blowing up. How do you feel about it?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. I mean, I like that we’re anonymous. It’s…fun. There’s not so much pressure, you know? It’s about the music, not our faces, not what anyone might find if they dig up information online.”
He nods. “I get that. You guys put out some pretty vulnerable stuff.”
Something stutters in my chest. “You…you’ve listened to them?”
He gives me a funny look. “Of course I did. Ivy sends me every video.”
Throat suddenly impossibly thick, I search his eyes. “I didn’t know…”
He rolls his eyes. “Just because I need a break from you, doesn’t mean I suddenly stopped caring.”
Sure sounded like it was more than a break you needed that night, I think, remembering how he laid into me on Shawn’s birthday.
Try as I might to stifle it down, hope pokes its masochistic little head out.
Maybe it’s not all lost.
“Do you think you’ll ever take off the masks?”
I shrug. “Maybe eventually. If we ever sign with a label, probably. But just ’cause we got lucky and managed to snag a huge following online relatively quickly, doesn’t mean we’ve got what it takes for the big leagues.”
He considers me with a thoughtful look on his face.
“What?”
“Do you want to be in the big leagues?”
I huff a short laugh. “Honestly, I don’t know. Just going from nobodies to having hundreds of thousands of people listening to your songs within a span of a month has been a little overwhelming. I’m okay with riding this out for a bit. Enjoying the anonymity while it lasts. Plus, who’s to say the hype won’t die once there’s no longer that mystery behind us?”
“You’re not in it for the hype though.”
I open my mouth, close it.
“It’s okay to be scared.” His mouth tips up. “To be an artist, is to bleed. It’s to surrender. That’s a terrifying thing. Not everyone has the guts for it.”
