Chapter 2
Becoming Hysteric
“So, we need to come up with a name if we’re actually going to start trying to play gigs.” Dane twirled a stick in his fingers while we took a quick break. He had been hounding us to pick a name for weeks, but nothing we had come up with had stuck for more than a day. Getting four guys to agree was proving more difficult than I thought it should.
Colt chugged from his water bottle and nodded. “I completely agree.”
“Guys, Dad will let us play at Mountain Breath with or without a name.” My dad had been the owner-operator of Mountain Breath, one of the biggest hotspots for live local music, for years. It was where Dane and I had first fallen in love with music and decided to start our little band.
I let my bass rest on my amp while I grabbed a beer from the fridge. Colt’s dad had kept Blue Ribbons stocked in his man cave fridge for as long as we had been hanging out down there, and he was either onto us but didn’t give a flying fuck or got too loaded every night to realize we were dipping into his stash. Either way, it made it easy for us to have a few without our parents freaking out on us.
Rodney gargled his saltwater solution tosave his voice, and we all burst into rolling laughter.
“Rod, man, is that really necessary? It’s so fucking gross.” Dane was about to cry from amusement of our lead singer being such a girl about his voice. He was doubled over, gripping his stomach, face as bright as a cherry tomato.
Serious as shit, Rodney turned to him. “Fuck yes it is. You don’t want me to lose my voice prematurely and never be able to make it to the big time, do you?”
“What?” I couldn’t control myself. “Seriously, dude? We’re a bunch of guys playing in our guitarist’s parents’ basement—how seriously do you really think we should take this?”
Colt looked over at me. “I think we should see where it goes. Why the fuck not?”
Rodney nodded in agreement. “It’s about damn time we have a name. It shouldn’t be this hard to pick.”
“Well, we’ve gone through like twelve already,” Dane complained.
“What about using a chick’s name? Like Madalynn or some shit like that?” I asked.
“I still think we should be The Hysterics. I’ve been saying it for weeks. It’s edgy and would look amazing on shirts and shit.” Rodney was not going to let that one go.
Dane cringed from behind his set. “I just don’t know about it. It’s kind of…cliché.” Colt and I both agreed that it was a solid name, so Dane reluctantly went along with it like he always did. “I guess it works, but I just feel like it doesn’t pack a punch.”
“It will be plastered all over the fucking place, dude—just wait and see.” Rodney had his usual shit-eating grin on his face as he did a quick sound check with Colt.
“All right, enough goofing off. Let’s get serious.” I winked at Dane and he started to count off for our newest original.
As Rodney started to sing the angsty lyrics I had finished only days before, everything washed away and the music consumed me.
Rejection will play on her lips as I love you loosens his grip
There is a turning back in his eyes
She saw it and didn’t hide
For the first time in her life, intimidation didn’t rattle her
Didn’t startle her
Didn’t make her cut and run
Rejection will dig down into his soul as love burns at the tip
There is a longing in her smile
He saw it and cringed inside
For the first time in his life, intimidation got the better of him
It startled him