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“Come on, bring it in,” Ellis said, stepping up to Perry and motioning for me and Anthony to join them in a ridiculous group huddle. “No more dumb rules. Let’s just communicate better with each other.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Anthony said, and I murmured my agreement.
“And maybe we can have Kurt sit in with us sometimes,” I said. “He also plays the sax, and that would definitely add a cool vibe to our new stuff.”
“I’m okay with that,” Perry said.
“Yeah?” I searched his eyes for any frustration but only saw gratitude.
“Yeah. And I know it’s late, but I’m dying to play with my best friends,” Perry said, breaking up the huddle and heading back to his keyboard. “Something older, from our first set, for nostalgia’s sake? And how about next week we record new music?”
He meant the song I’d written and performed last time out, so we could put the track up for sale. If that wasn’t showing his support, I didn’t know what was. Well, besides the rainbow sticker, which still blew my mind.
It was a start.
34
Ellis
It was the last Thursday in January, and we were playing at the Thirst Lounge. We noted the large crowd as soon as we arrived—the headcount was double the last show, maybe even higher, which was good news for us. So maybe Perry’s postcard idea had finally paid off. Or, more likely, it was the rainbow sticker he’d added that represented a beacon of hope.
“Holy shit,” Nolan said as we unloaded our equipment from the van.
“So awesome,” Anthony added.
Perry had spoken to Mario last night. Apparently, the phone line at the bar had been flooded with calls from customers inquiring about our next show. I was a bit nervous, unsure what Mario had thought about our encore song until I remembered how much he enjoyed keeping the drinks flowing at his bar. He gave no indication he cared one way or another as long as he could keep the doors open.
I knew Perry was still afraid that it was all hype, so we’d just have to prove to any new fans that we were a rock-solid band.
“Congratulations,” Shana said on one of our trips to the stage. “So deserved.”
“This is nuts,” I replied, then noticed the tiny rainbow flags she and her friend were holding. “And surreal.”
She motioned to the crowd. “And we’re not the only ones.”
There were more rainbows in the form of shirts and hats and stickers, plus some In a Funk logos from our website. We’d never gotten many sales for our swag in the past, but maybe we needed to look into that again.
“I can’t believe this,” I said when I got onstage. “I never would’ve guessed.”
“Pretty fuckin’ cool,” Anthony replied, looking into the audience.
The buzz grew louder the closer it got to showtime, and my stomach fluttered as I rode the wave of enthusiasm.
“Is that something that’s gonna bother you?” Nolan asked Perry.
“Hell no. Our music is kick-ass. And hold up, that reminds me…” He dug around in his bag on the floor before pulling out a rainbow bumper sticker and slapping it on the front of his keyboard next to the others he’d collected over the years.
“Okay, that’s over the top even for you,” I said with a laugh as there was raucous applause. Guess the audience forgave him too. Not that they knew the half of it. It was pure speculation, and we’d kept it that way because it was nobody’s business except ours.
We played our normal first set to a lively crowd, were mobbed by fans during our break at the bar, then headed back to the stage for the rest.
I really got into it, and every time I stepped closer to sing the refrain with Nolan, the flags got flying in front of us. Like I said—surreal.
“You’re listening to In a Funk,” I said into the mic, shocked that the night had flown by so fast. It felt like a wild ride. “And this is our final song.”
The audience playfully booed, and some flashed the lights on their phones. We had discussed the possibility of an encore beforehand and decided we’d do one to close the show.
“We’ve got Anthony on drums, Perry on keyboard, Nolan on vocals and guitar, and I’m Ellis on the bass.” I leaned forward to ham it up for the audience. “But Nolan’s all mine, so all you can do is look.”
The noise in the audience skyrocketed with whistles and hollers, and Nolan was looking at me with a sappy grin. I sought Perry’s gaze, a thread of worry lancing through me that it was all too much for him. I hoped that, with time, the feeling would pass because he truly seemed like a different person, outside of his usual snark and occasional blustery moods. But we were used to that, and this time it wasn’t directed at us. Instead, he seemed grateful and happy. Even now, he was clapping and smiling along with the crowd.
