Stories I Never Finished

Happy Little Pill

Ashton's a drummer in a small local band, and it seems he's hiding something more than unreleased song lyrics.

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Luke was never truly the biggest fan of musicians, he found he could get his music fill by a passing car radio or a touch of edited songs on YouTube; the idea of following around the schedule of some small band had never crossed his mind.
It had been a case of wrong place, right time when his life began to change ever so slightly. He found, after a couple light beers and an entire show made by Happy Pills--a local musical trio--, he had more than enough reason to be interested.

Other than the fact the bass player had some of the best talent Luke had ever heard, and the guitarist could shred like no metal player he'd seen on MTV, he couldn't help but feel the edge of each lyric the group poured out into the pub. While majority of the crowd were living up to a fun night, wild time, ideology, he sat back at a lone table and listened with great intrigue.

And so it went like that for a few months following. He would see their Facebook page update a new performance date and he'd go to sit and listen; maybe tap his foot and nod his head along to their entrancing beats, considering he wasn't too much of a dancer.
After a while, he began to follow more and more of their social activity; hitting the 'follow' button on their band Instagram, adding them each on Snapchat and following each of their individual accounts online.

Truthfully, he wasn't much of an internet socialising person. He'd rather sit in front of the television after a long day of working in retail than try and catch up with whatever new trend the internet decided was going to be cool for a while, but gradually he found himself checking their pages more and more; following them like one would do a regular celebrity.

It was in this casual upkeep of notifications did he find out the band wasn't as seemingly well appreciated as they were when they played their music. Most of their followers were overseas, or nearby towns--barely any where they and Luke actually lived--and Luke couldn't help but wonder why people, who had never truly met these people in person, seemed so against them.

Though Luke had a little celebrity crush on the smooth bassist--with buzz-cut brown hair, matching deep eyes Luke was genuinely amazed by, and a casual style of laid back black and grey--he wouldn't deny it was the drummer who held most of his attention when he came online.
There was just something unsettling about the strong male, and whether it was the odd hunting gear Luke could see in the background of some selfies or the oddly disturbing punk-esque fashion the man wore when he wasn't performing he couldn't be sure for certain.

But, as life always finds a way to do, eventually things started to come together; and one night, after a beautifully enamouring performance of seamless bass, entrancing guitar, pounding drums and mind-swirling lyrics, Luke found himself face to face with his newest chapter.

His life story was about to get a lot more interesting.

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Luke had barely risen from, what had been, his comfortable seat for the night when his shoulder was tapped upon by one of the two security bouncers the bar hired.

"Something wrong?" Luke was far beyond sober enough to know he hadn't done anything to warrant a kick-out.

"Them lads wanna talk to you." The woman said, gesturing subtly to the band now beginning to pack up while the crowd was beckoned out onto the streets.

Luke's eyebrows furrowed together, pale fingers brushing across the fabric of his leather jacket as he pulled it off from the back of his chair. The woman joined her co-worker, ushering the drunken crowd before Luke could ask her if she happened to know why the men wanted a word or two.