The public may stare at us. They may think we are non-humans who have deep mental illnesses. Let them stare. Let them spew their venom, burning their tongues. My love for you is stronger than their hatred for us. Our love is unbreakable. Our love has lasted for a decade and will last for another decade to come. Their hatred only hurts them. Their hatred stays like a parasite instead of a seed in the soil. It will never grow into something beautiful; it will only take and take. As long as we have pride, we will be okay.
I still remember the last thing you told me, Sarah. We were walking to our favorite coffee shop, passing by many people—some of them might have glanced at us. What you told me then never left my mind. I smile whenever I think of your words and the low mumbly voice that said them to me. You gave me an earnest look as you shaded your eyes from the sun with yourhands. It was simple promise that I am sure will stay true. I hold the same sentiment as you do. I shall share this oath with you.
“I pledge toneverlet go of your hand when they stare,” is what you said.
Turning Tides by A.S. Cayman
Chapter 1: The Comedown
“Titan, you’re making yourself suffer needlessly. You know you need to taper.”
The words echoed down the hall. The response that followed was so low it was indiscernible from the den.
“The girl from Bluesky I told you about is here to audition,” Daniel explained.
There was shuffling, the click of a light switch, then the door closed. A moment later, Daniel returned. He settled back into the armchair and let out a sigh.
“He’s a good guy once you get to know him. Stubborn as hell, though, glutton for punishment, too. But we love him all the same.” He leaned forward. “So, what was your old band like?”
Augustine interlaced their fingers and looked away, trying to think of how to answer the question without implicating themselves.
Thankfully, the door opening once more took Daniel’s attention.
A tall, slender figure emerged, dressed entirely in black; jeans, a T-shirt, and mirrored sunglasses that made his expression impossible to read. Still, the way he carried himself suggested fragility.
“Augustine, this is Titan. Titan, Augustine,” Daniel said as the sulking figure entered the room.
“Nice to meet you,” Titan said in a level, almost robotic voice. His head hung down as if he were trying to hide his face.
This was the band’s frontman?
“Thank you for the invitation to audition. I was really excited when I got the DM. I almost didn’t believe it was real until the manager sent me the NDA,” Augustine replied. They stood, offering a hand, but Titan neither took it noracknowledged it. Instead, he turned and folded into the sofa, sinking into an uncomfortable looking posture. Daniel reached out his own hand instead, and Augustine shook it with relief.
“Apologies for the informal setup, and thank you for your flexibility,” Daniel said. “Normally the label would run auditions like this, but after everything, we wanted to keep this in-house. Our guitar and bass players are still in Europe because their flight got delayed, so we’ll be recording this session for them, if it’s alright with you. We’ll send them the footage so we can make a decision.”
“That’s fine by me,” Augustine confirmed. “I’ve been following the band for a while, and I’ve really been looking forward to meeting everyone.”
Though Augustine didn’t know the guitar player or bassist, they also hadn’t known the former keyboardist—who they would be replacing if the audition went well.
“I know it’s unconventional, but with Neon Moon coming up, we need to get someone in quickly to start rehearsing. We tried our damnedest, but we can’t get out of the festival contract, so we have to play. And if we’re going to play, we need to play well,” Daniel said.
“Of course,” Augustine replied. They noticed Titan hadn’t even looked in their direction since sitting down. Was Titan really so disinterested that he couldn’t be bothered to shake their hand? Augustine had been studying Current Circuit’s work. They had watched dozens of videos of their live performances where Titan seemed charismatic, possessing great chemistry with both the crowd and his bandmates. At that moment, though, Augustine didn’t see anything that remotely resembled the stage personality from the videos.
“Good,” Daniel said, rising to his feet. “Let’s get started then, shall we?”
He led the way down the back steps to the studio, adark wood geometric structure overlooking the rolling hills of a neighboring apple orchard.
Inside, Augustine was shown to a keyboard, standing tall on an ornate red-and-tan rug.
“So this is where the magic happens,” Daniel said, gesturing to the rehearsal space. It was bigger than any Augustine had been in but still felt intimate. The birch slats of the accent wall extended, wrapping around the ceiling. On it were racks of gleaming instruments. Everything was state of the art, sleek, but the warm colors and soft lighting made it feel cozy.
“It’s a bit of an upgrade from our starter—the basement of Eve’s grandparents’ house. Although we did line the walls with egg cartons to dampen the sound. We thought we were so clever, didn’t we?” Daniel asked.
Titan took a long inhale through his nose before nodding. “Yes. Those days were fun.”
Titan and Daniel sat down at the soundboard, familiar as pilots preparing for flight. Daniel opened his laptop and pointed the camera towards Augustine.
“Let’s start with a simple sight-read. Play through this.” Daniel’s voice was steady and professional. He handed a sheet to Augustine—a chart for “Amethyst,” one of the band’s earliest songs.
