To The Stage

2 | Promise

Chapter 2

Cruller lets out a shaky breath and says something to himself. I don't hear because I'm too focused on the fact that the sixteenth record place we've been to has just rejected us.

"I'm so sorry, guys," I mumble miserably. "This is all my fault."

I tilt my head to the right and place a hand on Cruller's arm. I make eye contact with the two others and try to smile apologetically, but nothing in my face moves. I turn my head away quickly and mentally slap myself. I've known these guys for years, yet I still act awkward and goofy around them.

"You may exit to your left. Thank you for your time," the record manager rasps robotically as if he had rehearsed it a million times just for us. He clears his throat then demands, "What's the name of the guitarist though?"

My eyebrow arches in confusion. "My name's Rory--"

"The other guitarist. The one who does back up vocals?" He points somewhere beside me to my right. I tilt my head in that direction and see Cruller stepping forward.

"I'm Cruller Douglas."

"You have potential, young man. I could take you in and make something amazing out of you."

Cruller shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He shoots me an uncomfortable look. He answers, "I can't leave my band. It's either all of us or none of us."

I roll my eyes. I'm not surprised he wants Cruller. Most of the other places that rejected us wanted him too.

Only him.

It was really starting to piss us off that Cruller seemed to be better than any of us.

"That's too bad because..."

I drown out his annoying monotone voice and hug my guitar closer to my chest so I can disconnect it from the speakers. I indicate with a nod for Skull and Hurl to do the same. I hear them clearing their instruments with failure hanging thick in the air.

Cruller is still talking with the manager. Flustered, I walk off stage without waiting for my band mates. I hear Cruller call after me but I ignore him.

When I get to the temporary room given to us, I slam my guitar carelessly into its case. It lands on its side and makes a sort of groaning noise, as if it had not expected me to throw it. Unbalanced, it tilts and is about to crash to the floor. I grab the neck of the guitar before it can, then lower myself unto my knees. I cradle it in my arms and silently apologize. I stroke the smooth fiery finish then move my fingers to the edge to follow the curves of the electric guitar carefully. I've cared for this guitar since I was fifteen and ten years later, it can't do the same for me and help me get a gig. I deposit it into its case slowly, my anger having been replaced with sadness. My band depends on me a lot and I can't even get them a steady job and rid them of their fear of not having enough money by the end of the month. I rub my eyes and face with my palms, inhaling the smell of the metallic strings lingering on my index and thumb. It soothes me momentarily.

"Rawry," a voice coos softly, causing me to jump. I hadn't heard the door open but maybe I had never closed it behind me.

"Cruller, don't call me that," I snap calmly. I don't turn to face him because I know he's frowning. I want him to know that I'm upset with him but I also want him to yell at me.

I close my eyes and silently hope he'll tell me I'm not good enough for this band so that I can tell him off. I know it's a childish thought but what can I say. I'm angry that people want Cruller instead of the whole band. I feel like a failure. Skull and Hurl probably do too. I want Cruller to apologize.

"Rory," he corrects himself. Then continues, "I'm sorry that people can't see the talent our band has."

It's like he can read my mind. Sure, I've known him my whole life but it's still creepy how well he knows me and vice versa. He's also missing a big part of why I'm frustrated, so maybe he doesn't know me all that well. I let the silence stretch out, indicating I don't plan on answering.

"Rorster, it doesn't matter if these losers don't want us. There's gotta be someone out there who likes our music. We can't be the only four who can tolerate our stuff," Skull says.

"Don't call me that," is all I say.

I cross my arms over my chest, unable to face them yet. I can imagine Cruller standing a few feet behind me with Skull close by and Hurl leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed. I already know Hurl won't say anything, but the other two won't shut up until I'm happy. I can't help feel guilty though. I'm the one who had gotten us all these auditions and every time we have been sent away.

Well except Cruller.

What's the point of being lead singer and band manager if I can't even get us gigs? Maybe I should just get Cruller to accept a label so I don't hold him back.

"C'mon, cheer up, please? For me?" Cruller lowers himself to the floor until he's sitting on his heels. He drapes his arm around my shoulders and beats his eyelashes at me. I shove him off and cuss at him quietly. Cruller continues, "Achieving Misery won't go down in flames." He places a hand on my shoulder and looks deeply into my eyes. "Trust me, a lot of bands go through refusals before they get their big break."

"We need money," I mutter angrily. "And it's my fault. Maybe if I hadn't yelled at him or if I would have been more patient, we would've given us a label. But no, my dumb ass had to tell him to hurry his slow ass up."

The rent was due in a week and a half and none of us had any money nor temporary jobs. Usually one of us had a job at a retail or grocery store and would be able to scrape up enough money. Even sometimes I got lucky and got us a one-night gig at a local pub or coffee place. We hadn't been so lucky these past few months.

"You'll get us a gig, don't worry," Cruller assures. "You've always figured something out. Plus, it isn't your fault. If you wouldn't have spoken up, one of us would've probably done it instead. These guys don't see what we're capable of. We don't need these guys."

I feel the anger from when the manager asked for Cruller's name rise inside of me again. With those few words from Cruller's mouth, I snap, "You're only saying that because everyone only wants you! You don't have anything to worry about because if we fail you could just go to one of the places that rejected us and you could get in by yourself. Are we not good enough for show biz? Why is it you and not all of us?"

I jump up from my crouched position and glare at Cruller, whom looks taken aback.

"You know I would never leave the band and get famous by myself!" He hisses, "That'd be so selfish!"

I roll my eyes. "You say that now but when the time comes and there's no where to turn to we'll see."

"Guys--" Skull tries interrupting.

"You're just jealous of me, Rory! God, I swear you've been jealous since we were kids!"

I open my mouth to insult him back but Skull grabs my attention.

"There's always prostitution to turn to if we're really desperate," Skull chuckles. "Cruller would have to join us."

I roll my eyes, a grin pulling at my lips.

"Was that a smile?" Skull teases. "Pretty sure I just saw a smile."

I curse at him, displaying my middle finger for him. Cruller laughs then is serious, as if remembering he's upset with me. He packs his black guitar into its case and stalks out. I watch him go, not feeling guilty whatsoever.

"He'll cheer up soon enough," I mutter to myself. "But I swear I'll get you guys a record label if it's the last thing I do. I promise."