Anamnesis

by Background Bystander

Merry Melodies

“C’mon, hurry up!”

“I’m trying!”

“For fucks sake, if I knew you were gonna be this long, I would’ve been the one to drive. What’re you doing in there, stitching the clothes yourself?”

“Just hang on! You’re always so impatient.”

“Well, when it’s a good time that’s on the line, I’d like to be there, front and center!”

“Give it a rest, it’s nothing but local acts tonight, it won’t be anything too spectacular.”

“...At least it sounds nice. Hope they do well, it’ll help warm us up a little...”

“How about you put on another coat?”

“Alright, I’m ready.” The door swung open, letting its thermal atmosphere bleed out on the rest of the house. Dripping onto the others as they took in the figure that stood before them. Wiggling her toes slightly as she stuck out her legs in a flashy fashion pose. “Well?”

“Seriously? Bell bottoms and Birkenstocks?”

“Is there a problem with bell bottoms and Birkenstocks?”

“Yeah, ha ha! You look like my mom!”

“Then your mom’s one cool cat, Riley.”

“Maybe when she was our age...back in the ancient times.”

“Much like our music taste?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“...That’s...different.”

A smug smirk. “Riiiiight.” She looked to the left. “Well, what about you, Faith? What’d you think?”

“Oh, I think it looks great, I like what you did with your hair, too. It’s nice and bouncy.” She replied in a soft tone.

“Heh, thanks, but I got a little extra. Check this out.” She pulled any strands that were stuck within the collar of her denim jacket and thick sweater. Scrunching them slightly, before banging her head a few times. A golden wave slashing atop her neck until she swung it back one final time. The sea foam of golden waves fluffing higher than ever. “There, how’s that?”

“Ooo...” She whistled with a starry eyed gaze.

“Yes, yes, you’re golden locks are to die for, we get it.” Riley groaned as she slapped a set of keys in her hand. “Can we go now? That car is gonna take forever to heat up and I don’t feel like freezing my ass off the whole way.”

“Fine.” She spun them around on her index finger, grabbing her essentials and tucking them deep in her coat pockets. “Then we shall go, dashing through the snow...” She whistling the rest of the song to herself as she motioned the others to follow her out the door. “In a one horsepower open sleigh-“

“I swear to god, if you sing carols the whole time, I’m getting out and walking.”

“...Laughing all the way?” Faith giggled.

“Fuck both of you, honestly.”

---

The creaks and churns of the car’s internals finally sputtered out when it reached its boxed finish line. She pulled the keys and started hitting the usual marks. Checking herself one last time in the mirror.

“You sure this is the place? It looks pretty beat up from here.” They looked out of the passenger windows, focusing past the snowfall to look at the building they’d be sharing the next few hours with a bunch of random nobodies, the fuzzy masses that make up a crowd. In fact, there were a few outside. Formed in little circles drinking and smoking, either just coming out from a show earlier, or prepping themselves for what was over the trench, like a soldier.

The building was built near the tail end of the 70’s, if you couldn’t tell from the aged paint chipping away from the bricks and the yellowish fade of the material covering the lights. The top half served more as a bar, where locals would come and drink. Often glued to the TV sets during a sports game, ranting and raving bouncing off the hollowed walls. Too busy deep diving into their drink to care about pesky things like common curtesy. Some would come to lift their spirits, others would come to drown them. But yet they seemed to all go in the same toilet by the end of the night, regardless of altitudes. Trajectory on the other hand...

“That just means it has character, Riley.”

“I don’t think character is a stand in for infrastructure integrity.”

"It sounded like it." Faith said quietly from the backseat. "...At least from what she told me...what little there was."

Riley pulled the collar of her bomber tight with a jerk. "Maybe you could've asked her to ramble some more before she ran to the west coast? Maybe just a little? Like gee, Tara, is this place a rundown dive or something? The kind with dicks waiting around to spike my shit-"

“That’s enough, you’ll be better once we get inside.” Her voice as stern as it could be between the shivers. “And you know she likes to go by Nicole.”

Riley, however, was already warming up from the radiant heat of anger burning across her Rudolph nose. “I’m just saying, you girls can hang with whoever you want, but she was always a bit…off with me.”

“She’s not that bad if you get to know her…” Faith said, muffled from between her gloves.

“Well I did, and I think she’s weird. I mean, did nobody else? It always seems like nothing was working at full capacity up there, and the way she dresses with all those fringes and stringy crochet stuff. Bleh, honestly it just looks so itchy, how could anyone wear that all the time-“

“You done?” She growled from gritted teeth. The sounds of her sandals scrapping against loose gravel died down as it was subdued with another surface of a crunchy crisp white. “…Wait a minute Riley, you’re not…nervous, are you?”

She jumped at the word, like she’d been zapped. “What? Nervous, me? Pssh, of course not! Do you even know who you’re talking to?” She ended with a smile that was way too wide.

She reached in her jacket and pulled out two squished nubs of earplugs, holding them out with a sly smile, as she’d given many times over through many similar scenarios. Riley sighed, and looked away as she snatched and hastily stuffed them into her bomber.

“You’re weird too, y’know? How you listen to all that music and never going deaf is astounding…I’m surrounded by weirdos, great.” Riley mumbled.

“Who’s to say what’s normal and what’s not? If everyone’s weird, then who’s really the normal one?”

“Me, definitely.”

Her eyes grew dim, peeping at the bright rainbow highlights peeking out from under their brunette exterior. “Ah yes, you, the spitting image of normalcy. Anyone could tell your radiance comes from a nuclear family.”

The winds shifted as they turned the corner to the back lot, finding a single red door illuminated by a single flickering light amongst the parked sedans and garbage. Occasionally buzzing the existence of a larger figure resting against the wall. Lazily looking at the blue light at his chest and the cherry one at his lips. The only parts you could make out, as the rest of him was coated in black, both of cloth and the cold night. The moon had shrunk to a crescent tonight, but still attempted to shine through.

The three made the way to the door, Faith falling to a follow up position between them. The slaps of their shoes alerted the figure. The red of the cherry died down, going up in a wispy cloud. He slowly looked from his phone with an unreadable expression. It wasn’t curiosity, nor a sense of frustration or even delight, just a mask that hid away the meat of his skull from the outside elements. Bleeding boredom. He grunted something under his breath and stuck his hand out. Flexing his fingers a few times as the wind continued to thrash around, acting like a maniac.

She motioned for the other girls to give her their admission fees. Handing the clumped crumpled bills into his palm and taking a step back, blowing into her hands.

The man coughed and sifted through the money, eyeing them down all the while. Filing them away into mental cabinets overflowing with those who came before. Those who were ready, those who weren’t. He quickly scanned over her and Riley, not even blinking, no second guessing. That was until he got to Faith, and his stare froze. Planting directly on her, watching as a pair of Hamilton’s slipped between his fingers. He worked down the swirled fluffs of her furry sheep jacket and fuzzy boots. She noticed and cowered a little behind Riley. This only seemed to amuse the man, as his eyes flashed yellow under the spotlight, unflinching like wolves in a mischievous focus.

Riley moved her body slightly, cutting off his sight line. “Is something...wrong?” Her voice cut through the quiet. Her dirty Nike tapping in stiff timing, matching the slap of the paper.

The man only chuckled. “Nothing.” He said, pocketing the money. “Do enjoy your night, girls.” He backed off from the door, moving his attention back to his other vices. Once again becoming one with the dark.

The girls looked at each other and single filed through the door, heading down a scuffed and scrawled staircase, the thumping of the walls replacing their creaking footsteps.

Louder.

Louder.

Louder.

Riley and Faith quickly inserted the earplugs, hiding them under their hair. She reached into her coat pocket and placed a pill on her tongue with a smile, then putting on a pair of aviators as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

This place was essentially the building’s basement, and if the public sector was already poor, this place was completely down and out, ripped apart from a failing economic system. A open space exposed by wooden beams and a cool concrete floor. The grey brick walls were being hidden by long, hung rugs and strings of multicolored lights. Chills from the outside melted to a burn with the amount of body heat in the room, like a makeshift oven.

For some backdoor bum hole, there was actually a decent amount of people here. Even more surprising considering what day it was. At least it was compared to a household basement, where everyone was crammed into a corner searching for anything valuable to misplace. There was already a band playing atop the little elevated stage, a 5 piece playing out an older instrumental. The guitars stinging with the strum over single coils and reverb. Hard picks and tiny taps were putting the crowd at ease along with their drink. A few heads were bobbing around, floating in the waters of a soothed stupor. Their party, not so much.

“This is what we drove all the way here for? This slow crap?” Riley scoffed.

All this...questioning was starting to annoy her. If she didn’t know better, she would’ve been suspicious about this angry apparition that looked like her friend, but she ruled against it. Given the weather and the fact she lost money just walking in here. But she really needed to ease up and relax, like she usually did.

“Maybe take a hint, man, you’re too pent up right now. Slow down, lay back and take it easy.” She insisted as they began to wiggle their way through the masses.

“I don’t know, I’m kinda with Riley on this one, I was expecting something...heavier.” Faith whispered, or at least that what it sounded like underneath the shoddy PA system.

“Finally, someone agrees with me!” She pumped a fist as they found a spot to stand. Just close enough to get passable sound from the music, yet far away enough to be clear of the splash zone.

“You’re ridiculous, if you didn’t want to go out, we could’ve just stayed home. There’s more after this that's playing, so take a breather.” She shook her head. “You got a real problem with rushing shit, Riley. Someday you’re gonna be laid out on your ass wondering where the fuck it all went before they dump you in a box as worm food.”

Riley burst into laughter. “Holy shit, now you really are my mom!” She rolled her eyes and smiled.

---

After what felt like forever, at least when you're sober, the group shuffled off the soapbox stage as another template of another genre of another sound materialized almost out of thin air. Weird forms swelling and growing out of the stringed equipment and piles of percussion.

Some were long, others were short.

Some were loud, others were quieter.

Some were alright, and others were really, really shit.

All in all, the average when you go to venues like this. As the sputtered strings of country shriveled up and blew off the stage, they realized that they were nearing the end of the night’s offerings. Probably around the 2^nd or 3^rd group for this slobbering beast of a crowd, slurring and sloshing against the walls. Those same few heads popping up to gasp for breath or shout something over the twisted noise. A confused bunch who really had no idea what they were doing out here, and others confused their confusion.

She wiped her face and squinted from the lights, now having found herself somewhat closer to the stage than before, she was sure of that. The people were definitely bigger. Perhaps just shuffled around in the pecking order. She was still feeling pretty decent, with the ringing in her ears only being a passing social call. She managed to squirm back to her friends, both wearing similar faces, even underneath the sweat beads. “How’re you girls holding up?”

“Huh?” Riley turned with a confused look before coming to. “Ah, better now, glad I left halfway through those Zeppelin numbers to get some drinks.” She smirked. “You’re the designated tonight, just so you know.”

“No one drives my car but me anyways, bitch. What about you, Faith?” She smiled and gave her a tiny thumbs up.

The house announcer, otherwise known as a barkeep on break, was gargling word noises as the next act fiddled with their equipment, collections of pedalboards and mics and such. This looked like a 3 piece. Which was good for her, meaning there’d be less to focus on. Two of the guys showed up, giving small waves for those clapping.

The red head cleaned his Lennon-type glasses on his flannel, giving them a quizzical look before putting them back on. One side of his head shaved while the other rested over his shoulder. Whatever strands were left were glued on his chin, as it hung down over his neck. She counted the strings on the Fireglo Rick in his hand.

Four. She thought. So he’s their bass.

The second one, in a heather grey crewneck and scrunched up sweats, moseyed over to the drum kit. Her eyes were drawn to the bright white headband wrapped across his head. He gave the drums a few test whacks, sounding off properly enough, then stripping down to an army t-shirt.

But there was one more instrument, an SG, resting on one of the amps. Though it was hard to tell, as the poor thing was so beat up you could barely even tell it was a guitar at that point. Was it black…or red? Maybe both?

That’s when a goblin-like creature crawled past the two men and snatched the guitar within his grimy hands, hunched over as he adjusted the strap locks for a tighter fit. There was some more excitement from the crowd, but not them. The only thing he got out of Riley was a burst of laughter. “No way, that’s their guitarist? He’s so fucking tiny!”

While she wasn’t one to knock people based on things they couldn’t control, Riley had a point. The dude was only wearing cut off jean shorts and platform Docs, and he was still microscopic compared to the others. The shirt was composed of a fleshy garment of ink and imagery, covering up a rather skinny frame. It was quite silly when you compared it to other acts they saw tonight. “Geez, this guy must be loaded to the gills to be out here in that.” She muttered. The only thing keeping him warm was the stringy mess which was obscuring most of his head.

“What’d you think?” Riley asked Faith. She gave her an indifferent shrug. He walked over to the right side of the drums, with the bass taking up the left. The mic dropped very low, twisting and poking as he tried to turn it on.

“-oh, woah! Hey-hey…” His darted around, looking at the crowd. “Hello! Can you hear me?” Some spoke a halfhearted reply. “Alright, hey! What’s up? So-uh, we’re gonna play some music now.” He gave the guitar a test strum, causing a sharp bark from the amps. “Ok! Ready boys?” They nodded, preparing their stance and instruments.

“One! Two! Three! Four!”

What came next was…well, it was loud, that’s for sure. As the scratchy tone of the guitar pounced on them, tearing away at the head and clawing deep into one of the ears, while the other was getting savaged by the banging snare. While the deep drone of the bass dug at what was left, steady as a drill with the strings twisting and spinning within his fingertips. Spinning, as they were jumping around while playing, now appearing more red than head.

The smaller one, especially, as he appeared to expel all this energy and aggression in a matter of seconds, zapping around without a conductor. That is, when you got to hear the instruments, as the vocals were…uh, if you consider an explicit relationship between a man and his microphone shown to the public in very graphic detail to be vocals, then yes. But it was all so fast, so loud. Like a slap in the face, only giving her time to recover just as the singer gave a final, orc-ish roar into the mic and dislodged it from the back of his throat.

Well, if the crowd wasn’t awake then, they certainly were now.

“Whew! Alright yeah! How’re you doing, Mile High Club?” Some more applause now that they’ve been given energy. “Or I guess it would be Mile Below, hmm? Since we’re all stuffed in here like fucking sardines!” A nod from the bassist, and the two finished tuning their instruments and pushing pedals. “Either way, I hope you’re ready, 'cause now it’s time to…kick out the jams, motherfuckers!”

Hey, it was one she knew, and actually enjoyed. As did others, drunk and stupid as they started to lumber about again, some new faces within the familiar group who danced tonight. She wanted to close her eyes and become another buoy, bobbing around in this vast sea of meat. The music was giving her every reason to. The guitar was doing well handling both Kramer and Smith’s guitar parts with the aid of a doubling effect, though a Gibson wasn’t going to get the same feel as a star-spangled Strat. The bass was keeping steady with his fingerpicking, more like punching. And the drummer was manhandling Thompson’s machine gun beat. She wanted to tune out and tune in, but she couldn’t.

She was too focused, too wired now to what was in front of her. Her friends weren’t. They’d clearly found something in it she didn’t and were now mindlessly dancing along, so why couldn’t she? Shifting back over and over to this goddamn guitarist, the one busy flailing around while fretting the solo. She still never got a glimpse of his face, constantly covered up by the dirty blonde hair going up and down. Oh, don’t worry, she was getting a pretty good view of everything else, glistening and streaming, but there was still one missing piece. The most crucial part of the human form! Even when they were singing, there was still nothing but hair! It was driving her crazy for some reason.

What do you have to hide, hmm?

The song soon ended as she’d expected. A cacophony of sound, with clashing cymbals and screeching strings before hitting one final note. The crowd was louder now, claps and whistles a plenty. The singer crushed the pedals and grabbed the mic.

“Nice! Fucking love that song, man.” His voice was bright and excited. “Apologies for waking you up this early, but if that don’t get you moving then I don’t know what the fuck will!” He spat across the stage. “Thanks for showing up on a day when...no one should really be outta the house, heh, Merry Christmas everyone!” Canned applause. “And may the wonders of consumerism lull you swiftly into a coma.” She checked her phone. 12:37. Wow, they'd been here for an eternity.

He let out a fake gasp, slapping his cheeks like McCallister. "Oh my goodness, I forgot the introductions! How...inconsiderate of me." He puffed out his chest and struck a high pitched note on the guitar. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are The Hot Fudge...The-Hot-Fudge." He repeated, pointing at each member with the words . "You see? Three members, three words, it all works out. We are a...professional curling team." That got some laughs. "Yeah, y'know-uh, it's pretty icy around here so it looked like the right gig, but someone took our fucking brooms, man. Now all we got are these." He held up his SG.

"At least someone's enjoying themselves." Riley said, looking at her. "What's up with you?"

She scrunched her face. "...Don't know, I'm trying to figure him out, I guess."

"Well, I'd say ask him tomorrow, he's pretty fucking gone."

"Yeah...but the hair in his face, it's bugging me."

He pointed towards the red head across the drum kit, instructing the crowd like a children's classroom. "Does anybody know who that is? Anybody at all? Going once, going twice..." There was some murmurs, but no answer. He placed his hands on his hips and shook his head. "Nobody? Man, that's a bummer." The bassist smirked to himself, taking a drink from a bottle by the stage. "That's Sunny! Let's give him a nice warm welcome. Everybody say: Hi Sunny!"

Hi Sunny!

"Aww c'mon now, a little more oomph...Hi Sunny!"

HI SUNNY!

"HeLlO!" Sunny responded, forcefully cracking his voice and cowering at the mic. Causing both of them to giggle, along with the rest of the crowd laughing.

"Yeah, his mom's waiting outside in the minivan. She's got Capri Sun and Fruit Rollups when we're done, man." He hit another note on the guitar. "So, he's gonna give me a break and take the reigns for this next one, alright?" He burped into the mic and stepped back, wiping parts of his body and guitar with a rag.

Sunny adjusted his glasses and put some hair behind his ear. “Greetings, everyone. Hope you're all enjoying your night of getting trashed and bashed." He said with a snicker. "Now, this might sound a bit strange, but I got a question for you...Are there any astronomy aficionados among us tonight?" There were a few from the crowd who tried to respond, throwing their hands up and yelling over the others. "Just checking, stay with me now, here's another one. Do we also have any, uh, Greek mythologists here as well?" Maybe one or two called back, probably only responding to whatever noise came from the stage, which he seemed to expect. "Huh, well, you...six can all get nice and cozy, I think you're gonna like this one." They all looked at each other as the drummer counted off on his sticks.

“Oh my god, he can’t be serious with that.” Riley said bluntly, noticing her slowly trying to slip between a couple couples like a snake. "Hey, what're you doing?”

“I'm gonna move a little closer to the stage…to get a better view.”

“Heh, you do you. I’ll hang back here, good luck.” She took another sip of her drink, bobbing her head as she turned to talk to Faith.

The next number chugged along, shoveling through the think chunky tone as if the sun itself was melting the strings into a gooey sludge. Nice and evil. Probably due to him taking the spotlight, his bass was turned up to brain rattling degree, feeling it fall apart and seep out of her ears. Unfortunately, it also seemed he was using a pick for this one to hit the higher notes, as the squeak of plastic against the strings felt like nails on a chalkboard. He managed to pull attention away from it however, as he singing loud enough that people would barely notice. The drums sounded demonic as well, trying to conjure hell's orchestra to bring the song's story forward to it's cataclysmic climax. He seemed to be the kind of drummer who'd trained in playing faster, much faster, so this song was a breeze for him. Not even a single drop a sweat on his headband.

But she gave them little attention, continuing to watch the guitarist as she moved closer. Still! She still couldn't see his fucking face! Incredible, how could he have all that crap in his eyes and not miss a note? She understood muscle memory, and how they would eventually learn to twitch and flex all on their own, but at some point that would annoy you to the point of losing focus.

She could make out some of the tattoos. A Gadsden snake coiled tight around his chest, an old pin-up near his rib cage, and the phrase Kiss It placed ever so carefully above his waistline. There were animals, abstracts, and anecdotes...as well as some faces, flowers and few fuck offs for good measure. He looked like a walking sketchpad. She wondered where, and why, he got them, seeing some farther faded compared to others. What was their story? Deep connections, or an intoxicated burst of creativity? Conversations like those usually went down the most bizarre of rabbit holes, every speech a new species.

The whole thing was a mess...but she kinda liked it.

What she didn't like, was that the song ended, and she was now in the middle of the most vibrant section of the crowd, all hollering and screaming as they did comedic bows. It was getting very loud. And uncomfortable. Claustrophobic.

"Why, thank you very much." Sunny removed his glasses and put them aside, then took off his flannel. Similar to his right-handed guitarist, he also had body art. However, this time, it was only on his shoulder, and a very strange shape at that.

He fanned himself off with a hand. "Is it just me, or it getting a little hot in here?" Yes, indeed it was. Crushingly so, and this dude's elbow in her back wasn't helping in the slightest. "So, how about we cool down a bit, get you all real nice and chilly, freezing even. Extremely cold, frostbitten, you might even say you're...trapped under ice?"

Oh no.

People gave him some joking boos with that one, which he quickly brushed off. "Hey, I didn't write these openers, he did."

"What? No I didn't!" The guitarist shouted.

"Yeah, you did."

"Oh fuck off, that's all you, man."

"They're your jokes."

He flipped him off. "Very well, consider this our...holiday number." The drummer's face filled with excitement as he heard the beginning distortion.

Shit, she was in the wrong spot for this song, she needed to move, quick! Before she got caught up in the-

A body collided, knocking the wind out of her and nearly off her feet. The blaring sound of the instruments began to beat her ears like a boxer. She went to stabilize herself, only to get thrown aside again by another person, caught up in the riptide of ripped and twisted individuals looking to start some kind of mosh. The beginning solo screaming over her own cries, the big denim coat now feeling like a straight jacket as she couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Oh god, not like this! This is too much, too ironic! She couldn't get trampled over this song, and definitely not in this shit hole! Where was Riley, where was Faith? Someone, anyone, these dumb motherfuckers are too busy having a good time to know it'll be the death of her! Help!

She looked up to the band as best she could after getting smacked upside the head, causing her glasses to fly off her face. Both guys were busy playing away, heads banging in unison as the guitarist was going through the second solo, Sunny's fingers flicking away on the string it would burn from friction. The entire basement quaking with the drummers double bass pounding nonstop, no time to wait. No time to care. She was just about to look back at the crowd, hair filling her open mouth, just as her vision went black. Spine twisting from a hard shove, and her face cracking with the wall before her. The stage.

She opened her eyes, finding it still to be black, but with this strange white-like shine. Then it stepped back. She blinked rapidly, finding one eye not opening as much as the other and wincing from pain. Now noticing she'd been staring at a boot. Connected to a leg inside of shorts. Shorts to a bare torso. A bare torso to a neck. A neck to a...

There it was, his face! Finally appearing after he'd flicked his hair back, now pouring waterfalls worth of sweat and beer. While the rest of his body continued to move with the song, his head remained stationary, his bright green eyes holding her within their grasp. A muffled sound appeared to be Sunny taking the next verse, but she couldn't quite make it out. Mostly likely due to one of these pricks getting her in the ear. Not even the guitar or the drums were audible, as the whole world rested and became...calm. He tilted his head slightly, looking her up and down as she slumped on the stage, trying to stay on her shaky feet. She felt like she'd just been put through the mill. His lips moved. No sound, but she understood perfectly.

Are you ok?

She felt herself cough, then barely shaking her head. He looked over to the other members, before turning back to her, speaking quickly.

Stay up here, by the stage.

He motioned his head to the right of him, where she would be clear of the whirlwind in the middle of the room. That sounded like a good idea, dragging herself over and resting against the wood and metal. Breathing heavily, coughing up whatever this garbage was lodged in her throat.

He continued through the song, even going back to giving his vocals, but he would continually keep an eye on her. Looking over, eyes fixed for a few, then going back to the song. He repeated this for the next couple minutes until they ended on a crashing note, like a car into a brick wall.

"Woo! Yeah, I think we're feeling it now!" He laughed, hearing the crowd cheer the loudest they'd been that night, almost as loud as the instruments themselves. He smiled and looked to the middle of the stage. Motioning to the guy chugging down water on the kit. "Now, you might've felt a fucking earthquake run through here earlier...well, you can blame that on this man right here." The drummer gave a large wave, rubbing his forearms across his face. "This is Motor Mouth! A real talkative son of a bitch, never shuts the fuck up! Why do you think I got all this hair? Keep you from seeing my missing earlobes, heh heh..." He looked over to her once more. "Me and Sunny are gonna take a breather. How about you introduce yourself the crowd, man? Show 'em what the fuck you're about."

Motor Mouth smiled as he adjusted himself on the stool and began his piece.

They walked to the edge of the stage, and the guitarist crouched down to face her. Almost completely out of breath and looking like he'd sweated half his body weight by this point. "Jesus, man." He said. "You alright? That pit looked like it ripped chunks outta you."

"I..." She croaked, trying to find the energy to just move her face alone. "...I...wasn't ready..."

"No kidding." He chuckled, before dropping face again. "Sorry about that...what's your name?"

She paused for a while, sitting there looking at him. "...Amy...Amelia..."

"Amelia?"

"...Uh huh...Amelia Stonefield..." She sputtered.

"Stonefield?" She nodded. "Hmm, you here alone?"

She shook her head again. The drummer was going insane on the kit, but he never flinched. Not even blinking, watching her carefully. "N-No...I'm here with a couple friends...They're back in the crowd somewhere."

"I see." He looked above her, taking a sip from his beer. Contemplating with a stern brow. "We're almost done here, there's one more song after this then we'll be upstairs. You guys can come hang out if you want, we're gonna get food and shit...it'll give you time to recover."

She looked down into her arms sheepishly, her whole body becoming very warm...maybe from embarrassment at this whole situation. Her she was, slapped around senseless by a bunch of strangers, and now another stranger is singling her out when he should be playing music! Great, just great. Really hitting the big times now. "...Oh...uh, no, it's fine. I don't want there to be an issue-"

"No need to be like that. It's no trouble, really." He flashed a nice, genuine smile.

He sounded like he truly meant it, even if he was losing his voice from all the screaming. The rest of his body was scarred and hardened, with muscles being seen through paper thin layers of fat and skin, but the lines of his face were soft and kind. He needed to wipe that dirt off his lip, though. Now, the drumming wasn't coming from the outside, but internal. Thumping deep into her chest. She coughed again and wiped her mouth. "...Sure, I'll see if they're up for it."

His weary smile turned to one of relief. "Far out, man." He glanced over and saw that Motor Mouth had finished his solo, resting his legs as the crowd cheered. He stood up and stretched, grabbing the guitar in his hand. "Gotta go, see ya."

"Wait..." He stopped. "...What's yours...you’re name, I mean?"

He swung the strap over his shoulder. "You'll figure it out." He finished with her and hopped over to the center of the stage. "You see what I mean? Never shuts up..." He gave him a smack across the back and cleared his throat. "Now, I hate to drop this on you lovely motherfuckers, but we only got one more song." They exploded in shock, with a large collection of aww's and boo's filling the air. "I know, I know, it sucks. But! We'll end with a very high, very loud, very fast note. And with that, it’s time to introduce the last member, moi!" He pointed to himself in dramatic fashion. "Name's Lou, or Lou Lou if you're feeling generous. Sometimes it's Lou at the loo, but not loo with Lou Lou, and definitely not loo loo at the Lou Lou, got it?"

Sunny and Motor Mouth looked at each other, trying to contain their laughter. He noticed and rolled his eyes.

"These two have...pestered we do one song in particular, and since we did a 'tallica song, guess we gotta do the other band, huh?" He sighed. "Thank you, Mr. Mustaine, my left hand weeps in your name."

She found herself giggling at his grievances, finally able to support herself with enough energy.

"Alright, who's ready, you ready?"

"YES, CONTINUE! I WANT TO HEAR MORE!" Boomed an incredibly loud voice from the back, silencing everyone else.

"Hot damn, somebody’s excited." He adjusted the strap, slightly nervous. "Here we go!"

She relaxed and watched the very fast, very loud, very painful experience as all three of them were giving their all trying to match the studio's speed. Lou's fingers looked like they were about to unravel into nerves and muscles fibers, as his face twisted and contorted in anguish. Most problems stemming from not having two guitarists. Going back to back with Sunny next to the drums nearly falling apart with how hard they were being assaulted. They tried to sing, but the crowd was shouting over them in the call and response style verses and the chants near the end, falling into chaos as most finishers do.

"Thank you!" Motor Mouth shouted, throwing his sticks into the air as they quickly left the stage. Floating along the rowdy waves of applause from the people, now absolutely wasted, both in energy and mentality. They walked off to the side and went through another door at the back of the stage, leading up to the top half of the building.

Amelia pushed herself away from the stage, feeling hollow. The people around her began to decompress and scurried around the basement waiting for their next bout of entertainment to appear. She watched trio slip through the door, high fiving and laughing as they went upstairs to open their presumably alcoholic presents under the theoretical tree. Lou turned back, watching her watching him. After a second or two, he gave her a smile and shut the door behind him.

...I gotta get upstairs.

She practically plowed through the bodies until she ran up on her friends, both looking like they were in a good mood. Riley saw her and gave a huge smile. "That was pretty fucking rad, dude! How was it up there-"

"They certainly gave it their all, I'll tell you that much." She huffed, cutting Riley off. "Hey, I'm gonna go upstairs for a moment, you girls wanna come?"

"Why?" Faith asked, some color leaving her face when she saw her own. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, totally fine! So what'd you say?"

"Uhh..."

"If you don't want to come, that's fine. Just text me when the last group is wrapped up, bye!" She moved past them and headed towards the door to the parking lot.

Faith looked at Riley, slightly concerned. "What was that all about?"

Riley shook her head and smiled. "Nothing, I think she just found her favorite performance of the night."

But there was another figure, one far off in the background. Seemingly shrouded in space, wiping some sweat off her regalia and clapping her hooves in excitement. "Oh my, that was exhilarating! I must hear more music like that!" She flashed a scroll and quill into the air. "Ask...Tia...discuss...additions to Canterlot Symphony Orchestra...there." She smiled contently, before fading away into dust.

---

She chucked herself through the door, cool winds dying to the building's old heaters. This somehow gave her even more of a headache. She passed through the middle of the restaurant space of the bar, occasionally placing a hand on one of the tables to balance on a wincing leg and a throbbing abdomen, grinding like rocks.

The place was populated with good paying patrons scattered around the bar, watching a hockey game out of one eye and a news report out of the other. The other side of the building, filling the booths and tables, were those who'd also managed to drag themselves out of the warzone raging underneath. Smelling of beer and body odor. The liquids in their glasses vibrating, bouncing the bubbles around like pinballs.

She'd noticed the employee from downstairs cleaning a table and collecting silverware. She went over to him and asked where she could find the bands in a very stupid and naïve manner. He only groaned and pointed her over to the break area for the employees, where a few were staying for the poor excuse of an after party. She figured he was bitter because they’d kicked him out.

She gave a couple soft knocks on the door, making it appear as nonchalant as possible. One of the earlier guitar players answered. "Who're you?" She asked.

"Uh..." She cleared her throat. "I'm here to see...Lou, he said to meet him up here when they were finished."

Her brow became suspicious, the creases of her mouth matching so. "And how exactly do you know Louis?"

Yeah, this is going about as well as she expected. "Uh...I, um, well, I spoke to him by the stage, when the drummer was busy doing-"

"He's not here, please leave. We don't need any stragglers coming around." She snapped, about to slam the door in her face, when a voice called out from the back.

"Hey! What's going on over there?" The voice shouted...somewhat familiar.

She turned to answer. "Got some chick here, says she knows Louis."

"Hang on..." The voice responded, followed by the sound of someone getting up and walking further into the room. Through the tiny sliver in the door she could see there wasn't much to the room, but there was much that'd been stuffed into it. After what felt like half a minute of waiting, only silence remained. The music in it was so loud, that you could really understand it if you knew the words to them beat for beat, which she kinda did.

She quickly turned back to her, now even more angry. "You heard them, time to fuck off."

She jumped slightly at her bark. "What? But they didn't say-"

"Well, I am. And I'm saying that it's time for you to leave before I make you leave."

She felt her hand roll itself into a fist, finding the right place where she could smear that smug face the quickest and with the least amount of pain on her end. Perhaps in the cheek, maybe the forehead? Who the hell does she think she is? Who does she think I am?

That was until a hand shoved the girl back, taking her surprise, but quickly dying down as she realized who it was. "Everyone calm down, what’s the issue here?"

"Got some freeloader, saying how she knows you and all this shit, probably just wants to take our-"

"Easy, easy, you gotta stop being so paranoid, man." From her face, she could tell he was smirking. "But if you're gonna be that way, then allow this...subject to enter the court of King Louis, thy humble servant."

She ground her teeth. "You. Are. A. Dick."

"Uh huh, and you're the cunt...is that why you're so uptight? Maybe I outta loosen you up, heh heh..."

"Ugh!" She hit him, probably on the arm and stormed off. "Fine, you deal with her! Just don't bitching to me when the fucking pigs come oinkin' at your door, asshole."

The door opened fully, finding herself looking down at..."Oh, um, hi Lou...is?"

"Hello, Amy, looking for me?" He asked, pulling the shades down his nose with a smile. "Or are you looking for these?"

"Hey, my glasses! Where'd you get them?" Then she remember that part about getting hit, and suddenly finding them missing from her face. "They flew on stage, didn't they?"

He nodded. "Gotta admit it was a bit strange finding them suddenly wrapped around my guitar strap and digging into my back. Ray Bans, though, very nice." Now that he was off stage and finally, uh, cleaned himself off, he was much easier to look at. He'd changed clothes, now in sweatpants and a yellow tie-dye shirt with the bars logo he'd obviously...bought.

She looked around nervously, seeing if anyone had been watching them when that girl blew up. "That girl, she doesn't think I'm a...y'know..."

He chuckled. "Someone tries to steal your gear once, and suddenly everyone becomes a threat. Also doesn't help when some of those threats may be trying to serve warrants."

"...Oh."

He opened the door a little more and motioned her in. "C'mon, we don't bite. Not yet, at least." He looked past her for a moment, then stopped. "Say, didn't you say you came here with others? They still downstairs?"

She looked behind her towards the front entrance, finding no one there. "Yeah, I told them to text me when they're done. I'm their driver tonight, figures."

He nodded and let her into the room. Some members of the others bands were present, drinking and talking amongst themselves about each others performances and the daily on goings of life. She followed him back to where there was an old couch, with a table filled with food and many empty cans of beer lying around.

"Hey Sunny!" He looked up from the book he was reading and uncrossed his legs. "Check it out, this's the girl I was talking about earlier! The one who totally ate shit next to the stage?" That statement caused her to cringe.

"Really?" He said, staring at her as he moved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "She sure looks it. I hope you enjoyed the rest of the show at least. That last number nearly killed us all." He flexed the fingers of his plucking hand.

"Oh no-no-no, you guys were great! It's just..." She looked to the couch. "Do you mind if I sit down, please?"

"Go ahead." He scooted over, taking another can and cracking the top. "I can read pretty much anywhere, and you look like you need it more than me."

"What she needs is a Red Bull and some pizza, I'm gonna find that scrawny little weasel working here to get some from their freezer, man." He took the glasses off and flicked them her way. "Might need these, that dudes so bright, it can be blinding at times..." He smiled stupidly before stumbling off.

"...He really did write all those openers, didn't he?" She asked, shoving the now greasy lenses into her jacket and pulling back her hair.

“Definitely." Sunny said with a chuckle, turning a page. "He's got an entire notebook full of them back home. I think they're ridiculous, but the crowds seem to like them."

She nodded and sat there quietly, keeping her limbs tight and listening to the many sounds swirling around her head. Sunny was engrossed with the book was while sipping his beer. A fantasy novel, if the dragon and flames on the cover were anything to go by. Just the thought of focusing on those small little blots of ink right in the middle of a buzz was enough to make her nauseous. Quick, she needed to find a way to change the subject before it continued any further. "Ok, I get...Lou, and Motor Mouth makes sense...ironically, so why do they call you Sunny?"

He looked up from his book and scratched his goatee. "I used to do roofing in the summer." He pointed to his hair, or rather the side that still had it. Noting the pale skin next to the red strands. “That didn't last long, but the consequences sure did."

"Is that how you met the other guys?"

"Nah, that’s because of school a couple years ago. Me and Lou met each other first, with our schedules matching up. Eventually, we were introduced to Motor through those in the ROTC. Wasn’t long till we all found a common interest...among other things." He motioned behind him. "Motor’s out loading the van with our stuff, guess you two are in the same boat, huh?" She nodded. There was a couple more minutes of them sitting quietly, as she took a piece of pizza from one of the boxes and started eating slowly. With a swallow, came another question.

"So, uh, is Lou always like that?" He looked over again, but this time his brow was curious. "I mean, the way he acts..."

"Completely out of it? Yeah, kinda, but you get used to it."

"No, I meant, uh...considerate, I guess. When I-ahem, ate shit, as he so elegantly put it, he came over to check on me and offered me to come here for some food. Kinda caught me off guard."

He put a hand to his chin. "He has his moments, just like anyone else. Maybe he's in the giving spirit, considering the season we're in. Me? I'm gonna enjoy why winter break, while I still can."

"Same."

"Hey guys!" They turned to see Lou with a crumped carton of drinks under his arm, slamming it down on the table and sitting between them. He was small enough to do so. "I see you two are playing nice, always a good sign." He grabbed a piece of pizza and shoved it into his mouth. Tucking his hair behind his ears so they wouldn't be frizzing out. "I swear, those fuckers are always looking to scalp whenever they can. Don't they know this was of the upmost importance?"

"Did you try sneaking it, Lou?" Sunny muttered.

"No...maybe."

"Wow, thanks. Didn't expect you to buy an entire box full of it." She said, taking on the cans and examining it.

"Just a precaution, in case anybody else wants one. In fact, I think I'll have one now." He snatched a can and ripped the top. Quickly finding an explosion of suds built up from the shaking. She immediately burst into laughter, causing some heads to turn their direction, but she played them no mind. As he couldn’t help but start laughing too, until eventually the two of them were doubled over on the couch as their stomachs collapsed.

“Woo-wee, thanks, man, I really needed that tonight!” She gasped, wiping her eyes.

He sighed and wiped his face with his shirt. “Alright karma, you can have that one, but I’m gonna start charging you afterwards.” He clinked cans with her and drank what was left, finishing with a loud burp.

“I can see how someone can get used to all of this, how often do you guys play?”

“Any chance we can get, really. Between school and our jobs...heh, those who have ‘em at least, there isn’t much time for slacking off when venues have an open slot.” He motioned to the room around them. “Here, mostly. It’s like the only place I know where we can relax without being fucked with.”

“Interesting...”

He waved a hand. “But enough about us, please. We’re not that important, and my voice needs a break.” He said with a weary smile, before leaning back into the couch.

The three of them sat for a while, listening to the music and completely ignoring his request, talking to each other about the night, and many nights prior, about what they’re doing these days. Sunny said he’s hoping get involved in astronomy...or history...or many other fields of science and study. He wasn't sure which one he wanted to narrow it down to yet. Lou was really eager about this whole music scene, hoping to learn, in his words, a fuck-ton of instruments, man!

As for her, she was interested in the studies of meteorology, though it’s tough to get any beginner knowledge on that through the school. Especially when the best they could do were the mind numbing general science courses. This is soil...this is a cell membrane...this is a paper with terms...this is me, ignoring you for 20 minutes while I’m busy clicking away on my computer. This is you, going nowhere. Ugh.

At some point, she felt the inside of her jacket buzz, pulling it out and seeing a little notification. Damn. “Well, looks like it’s time for me to head out.” She got up and stretched a little. “Gotta go, you guys have fun.” She walked over to another table and grabbed a napkin from the stack, wiping her face off of the grease and whatever other substances were there. She paused for a moment, before grabbing another one and finding a pen that was lying around. Scribbling onto it before walking back to them.

The two of them looked up to her, now splayed out on the couch. “Aww, you’re leaving? Alright then, have a safe drive home, Amelia.” Sunny said politely.

“Yeah! Hopefully we-urp-we’ll see you again at another show.” Lou blurted with a small wave.

“Sure thing.” She handed him the folded napkin, more of less tossing it in his lap. He picked it up and looked at it cautiously. “Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, uh, yo-you too...Amby.” He slurred.

“Hmm?”

“Oh, sorry...he’s someone else. Someone I used to kn-...don’t worry about it.” He shook his head. “Merry Christmas, see you...soon.” He drifted off, still looking at the paper.

She gave one last wave before making her way out the door and back to her friends, what’s left of them, that is.

---

“Hello?”

“...”

“Hello?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry...sorry, it’s me. It’s Louis.”

“I figured.”

“Right, I was just calling to make sure...to make sure you all made it home. Weather got real shitty there later in the morning.”

There was a pause. “Everyone managed to get back in one piece, thank you.”

“Whew, that’s a relief, last thing I’d want is for someone to-“

“No, thank you, Lou. For everything last night.”

“Oh please, think nothing of it.”

“Well, I’m not, sucks to be you.”

“...Fine then, you’re welcome, I guess. It’s what anyone would’ve done, really.”

“But you did, so I have to thank you.”

He groaned. “I’m really not in the mood for mind games right now, my head feels like it’s about to split in two.”

“No mind games here, just saying thanks...and hoping I can make up for it sometime.”

Another long pause. “You can do that just by coming to the shows. You will be coming to more shows, right? Just like you said?”

She smiled. “I think we’ll be seeing each other a lot more than just the shows, Louis.”

Author's Note:

An experiment with flashbacks and describing music within text. Sorry it took so long, got sick for a while.

(I used live versions when I could because I felt like they would give a better atmosphere to what I was writing)

Comments

[Mix-up]

I wonder why Sunburst cutie mark is there is Louis into him, or is it Sunburst himself. could they be the Equestrian Fudge and Mellow?