“I think it’s a great song,” Liam chimed in, probably worried I’d taken offense at his initial response. “I’m just, you know, thinking of what the audience wants. But if you want to play it, let’s do it.”
I fingered the tear in my jeans. If we played this song and the crowd didn’t respond well, it would be on me, that was clear enough. But what was the point of writing music if no one ever heard it?
“Thanks, guys. I want to play it. I think it’ll be well received.”
“Sure,” Liam agreed, his voice light. “Sounds like a plan.”
When we ended the call, I collapsed on the bed, a gust of air escaping my lungs. Sometimes these conversations were just like the goddamn college audition. Me trying to share something important with someone who might not give a damn. I don’t know why I kept writing stuff. No one else in the band really cared to do it, but for me, it wasn’t a choice. I just had crap that needed to come out, and when the seed of an idea made its way into my mind, it wouldn’t get the hell out until I planted it into existence. The urge didn’t come all that often anymore, not like it had in my teenage years, but it had never fully gone away.
Not yet, at least.
ADELINE
The Barnyard wasa fifteen-minute drive from Mason’s house. We piled into his mom’s minivan around eight pm, all of us equal parts nervous and excited. The practice session had gone well, and I felt as confident as I ever had about a set.
The large barn stood like a beacon on the side of the highway, lights strung up all along its edges, making it impossible to miss. We pulled into the parking lot, taking the spot closest to the back entrance. It was a mild summer night, but a vicious breeze made me glad I’d worn my trusty leather jacket.
It was just us tonight—no opening band. A three-hour performance, broken up into two seventy-five-minute sets, with a half-hour break in between. It was nights like these when all my training at the gym paid off. This kind of shit required serious stamina.
Bryan, the Barnyard’s manager, stepped outside just as we unloaded Mason’s drum set.
“There you are. How’s it going?” He gave me a warm smile through his thick gray beard.
“Good,” I responded, going in for a quick hug. Bryan had been hooking us up with gigs for years from when he’d worked at the Horse’s Hoof, a popular local bar. I knew that our invitation to play here was mostly due to his patronage.
“Should be a hell of a night. It’s getting busy already, and it’s not even past nine.”
“Fuck yeah,” Mason said, stretching his hand toward Bryan for a fist bump. “Adeline put together a tight set. We’re pretty pumped.”
The back of the Barnyard smelled like a typical concert hall—spilled beer, lingering cigarette smoke, and old sweat. I took a deep breath, because I was a weirdo, and to me this lethal combination was better than any cologne. Instantly, I felt at home.
The stage didn’t have a curtain, but the lights were dimmed so that when we got up there to set our things up, we were no more than moving shadows. Bryan wasn’t kidding, the place was busy tonight. Angry punk rock played over the speakers, drowning out the cacophony of voices. I tore my eyes away from the frothing crowd, knowing that lingering on it would make my heart race. This close to showtime, I had to keep my head on straight.
With soundcheck done, all that was left was a quick pep talk with the band. We huddled in a circle behind the stage.
“Let’s crush it tonight,” I said, looking at all of them one by one. I got a mixture of grins and anxious smiles in response. “It’s a packed crowd, and we’re gonna give ’em a hell of a time. Yeah?”
“Damn right!” Mason clapped his palm against the top of my back. A few more friendly claps later, we were ready to go.
The guys and Elly went out first, grabbing their instruments and doing a final check on my guitar. I had a few seconds for my ritual. It was simple. I cut off whatever thoughts were in my head—any doubts, nerves, anxiety—as if pulling a plug from a wall socket. Gone. I let out a long breath. There. Now I was ready to put on a show.
“Good evening! We are Through Azure Skies. You want to hear some music tonight?”
The crowd cheered in response, and more than a hundred pairs of eyes fixed on me and the band. I loved this moment, the awareness of us here onstage blooming across the sea of faces.
“One, two, one, let’s go!”
We kicked off our set without further ado, jumping into an energetic cover of “Cypress Grove” by Clutch. As we often had to do, we played it in a different key so that my higher voice fit better with the music. I loved putting my own spin on the songs we played. It kept it fun for us and surprised the audience.
The crowd began to move before us, heads swaying to the music pouring out of our instruments. I strummed the chords on my guitar as I sang, liking the sound of my voice tonight. I’d warmed up for a while before we left for the venue, knowing that singing for nearly three hours in one night was gonna be a marathon. The first song ended to enthusiastic applause. So far so good.
“Thank you! Let’s see how you like this next one.”
By the time the break came, my skin prickled with sweat, but I was on top of the world.
“You guys are awesome. Grab some drinks, and we’ll be back in thirty,” I said to the crowd with a huge grin on my face. My gaze found Liam, who’s expression matched my own. We placed our instruments in their stands and walked offstage.
“Damn, these folks are loving it!” Mason said excitedly once we were well out of sight. “The energy tonight is amazing.”
