Band X

Chapter 17: Band X

I remember when I thought I was dreaming, that being in a band was all one big fantasy. But it wasn't. I was finally part of something bigger than myself and that secret fantasy I have of becoming a professional singer seemed like it might happen. Not right away, of course, but someday. Or maybe it could happen right away.

Maybe there would be a talent agent passing by the school during the battle of the bands. He would see the sign out front, be intrigued, and come in to hear some amateur live music.

He wouldn't be very impressed with the other acts but as soon as our band hit the stage his jaw drops and hit the floor as he slowly sinks down into a chair in the back. After the show he would rush backstage to meet us and immediately sign us to a multi album contract.

Our lives would change forever. People would literally toss money at us; we'd travel the world and be on the covers of magazines. We would do the talk show circuit and everyone would want to hang out with us until our money ran out and the band broke up. Our falling out with be epic, complete with screaming fights, scandals, and childish tantrums.

After going our own ways for years and working on solo projects someone would persuade us to do a comeback tour. We'd barely want to be in the same room let alone walk on stage together in city after city, venue after venue, and entertain millions of screaming fans but, once again, the money would be too good and we can't just walk away from the fame and fortune.

Of course there are two more reasons, two far better reasons, why we would want to converge on the stage once again.

We still love to play. It sounds incredibly cheesy but it's in our blood. It's what we've always done and what we always will do. Together or apart we're musicians and if we're honest with ourselves we sound better as a group than as individuals both then and now.

Even after years of separation, there will still be something about the way our voices come together when we harmonize that still sends chills up my spine. We still read each other's musical cues and despite our successes as solo artists playing off one another seems more natural than anything we do alone.

And the best part? We become friends again, which is all I've ever really wanted out of this whole make it as a famous musician thing. Well, that and

It's a nice ending to our story, isn't it? But it's just a fantasy, just my wishful thinking, my insane musings. Let's face it-fame and fortune are not in my future. Or my present.

In reality, Isabelle snatched what's sure to be my only opportunity to do that I love for a living and gave it to someone else. I wish I could call the police and tell them that someone stole something from me. But what would I say when they asked me what it was? My only hope for happiness?

While I'd like to see them slap the cuff on Isabelle and throw her in the back of a squad car, I don't think that's very realistic. A slow smile spreads across my face as I imagine her with her nose pressed against the back window, crying and confused, as they take her away. Rationally, I know this fantasy isn't very nice and I would never actually call the police on Isabelle no matter how much she's hurt me but, like making it big in the music business, it's all an impossible dream.

My reality comes back into focus and I start to look around my wreck of a room. For the first time in a long while I have the urge to purge anything I don't need as I get my regular old live back in order. I'm going to be spending a lot of time in this room so why not make it look as nice as possible?

Two hours and many breaks later my room is starting to look like it used to. Neat, orderly, everything in its place. Just how I like it. Or just how I thought I liked it. My smallish room became a symbol of my life in a way. It got messy just when my life became equally messy and incredibly complicated, at least for someone like me who can't handle much without my anxiety spinning out of control.