Banding || afi

Chapter 38: Go Fuck Yourself, Ashton Irwin.

"You don't have to if you don't want to. I'm down as long as you're comfortable with it." Shawn smiles at me and tunes his acoustic guitar.

I shake my head at him. "I want to. The songs I chose are Stone Cold by Demi Lovato and Heavy Dirty Soul by Twenty One Pilots. I don't know if you know the songs bu-"

Shawn interrupts me by playing both songs perfectly.

"Show off" I mutter under my breath and playfully pout.

"Can I do the rapping part in Heavy Dirty Soul? I've been practicing and I'm almost positive I got it down." Shawn bit his bottom lip.

I stared as he did until he gave me a strange look.

"Um-Yes! That's actually a great idea. Are you ready?" My knees wobbled as I nervously looked at the black microphone sitting on top of the stand.

Shawn steps in front of me, rests a hand on my shoulder and matches our height. "Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be..." I breathe in and out to try and control my nerves.

"Aren't you the one who dragged me in this cafe because you saw the 'Open Mic' sign?" Shawn looks at me and chuckles.

It's true. After crying on him for a good hour, we strolled through Los Angeles until I saw the sign and literally dragged Shawn in this place. It was a good thing a musician was around and let us borrow his guitar. He plugged the black acoustic guitar in the speaker, gave us a thumbs up, and I've been trying to get myself out on stage ever since.

Shawn grabbed my hand and squeezed it, reassuring it'd be okay.

I took a breath one more time and nodded. We walked onto the stage and I swear about 70 more people showed up with their phones in their hands.

Right when Shawn and I were visible, screams exploded at us.

My eyes widened as I clutched the microphone in one hand and the stand in the other.

Shawn adjusted his and looked at me to speak.

"Hi, I'm Riley Faye from The Travelers." I quickly introduced myself and heard snapping of pictures.

"I'm Shawn Mendes!" He exclaimed into the microphone then sat on the stool next to him. He adjusted his stand while the screams increased.

"We hope you enjoy the covers." Shawn cracks another smile and starts to play the beginning of Heavy Dirty Soul.

I take a seat on my stool and lower the stand, staring at Shawn in admiration.

There's an infestation in my mind's imagination,
I hope that they choke on smoke 'cause I'm smoking them out the basement,
This is not rap, this is not hip-hop,

My eyes widened in shock.

Just another attempt to make the voices stop,
Rapping to prove nothing, just writing to say something,
'Cause I wasn't the only one who wasn't rushing to sayin' nothing,
This doesn't mean I lost my dream,
It's just right now I got a really crazy mind to clean.

He's pretty good.

Gangsters don't cry,
Therefore, therefore I'm,
Mr. Misty-eyed, therefore I'm.

I close my eyes and held the microphone with both my hands, I sang into the microphone and thought about the pain.

Can you save, can you save my-
Can you save my heavydirtysoul?
Can you save, can you save my-
Can you save my heavydirtysoul?
For me, for me, uh
Can you save my heavydirtysoul?
For me, for me, uh
Can you save my heavydirtysoul?