Page 17 of Mayhem

I just gotta buy some time for Dakota to shake off the jitters and showcase himself. If that magic still fucking exists to find... Before the guys revolt or the label pulls the plug on this whole experiment.

We regain momentum, but Dakota seems distracted now, overthinking. His tentative playing gets eclipsed behind our swell. I feel the tires spinning out again before it happens.

He hesitates on a bass fill then overcompensates missing the drop back in completely. Dakota yelps as his shoe catches on an unplugged cable and he nearly face-plants. Whatever band chemistry was building visibly fractures.

Irritation bubbles inside at the unraveling disaster now happening that I feared was coming. Dakota shrinks under our collective impatience. But Charlie just calls out happily, "That was a cool dance move!"

Charlie's innocent praise lightens the mood slightly after Dakota's stumbling mishaps. But underlying doubt gnaws at me whether we can resolve his issues in time for tour, let alone live shows. Still, I force a gentler tone addressing him.

"Hey man, first days jamming are always awkward, you know? Why don't we try an older one next to get our bearings?" I nod subtly toward Stefan and Emmett too, signaling them to tone down the intensity that’s obviously intimidating Dakota further.

I count us smoothly off into an old favorite, relieved when Dakota grasps the familiar progression. His shoulders loosen up incrementally, though he avoids eye contact still. As the final chords ring out, I manage an encouraging smile his way.

"See, you got this. We'll take it slow..." My confidence wanes watching Dakota's embarrassed flush not fade though. The other guys hover impatiently just out of his sight line.

Tess reads the scenario unraveling and jumps in. "You know, I'd love to grab some behind-the-scenes photos documenting this pivotal day." She gestures vaguely. "Why don't you three take Dakota through some gear while I set up lighting?"

The guys exchange skeptical looks but follow her lead and drift off. I mouth grateful thanks Tess's way. She gives a subtle thumbs up before tactfully busying herself scoping out creative shots to explain away giving Dakota some space. Hopefully once nerves settle, his abilities shine through.

But my gut twists seeing how badly this first impression is going off the rails. I pray inwardly that this instinct to take a chance here doesn't backfire on us all.

I desperately try to tune out the doubtful looks that get exchanged as we give Dakota some space. If we all seem on edge too, it'll only feed his unraveling confidence more.

After reviewing gear and lighting angles just to kill time, we circle back. I grab the mic again, determined to keep spirits hopeful.

"Alright Dakota, no second guesses now. What do you say we just jam loose and see what flows? No rules. No wrong notes. Just make some fucking noise together."

I see a flicker reignite behind his averted eyes at the freedom I just offered. As Stefan lays down a mood-setting rhythmic riff, Dakota closes his eyes. His head bobs along slowly finding the pocket again.

He starts layering in subtle bass notes accenting Stefan’s. Building off each other, no plan in mind, creative sparks tentatively realign. Emmett taps a gentle beat and Stefan weaves textured guitar riffs through it.

We meander along improvisationally before Dakota suddenly infuses a slick bass slide leading toward a key change. Our sound shifts following his unexpected modulation. Bursts of rhythmic runs and riffs tumble out, answering each other.

The studio fills with our unified sound gelling fully at last. Dakota no longer shrinks but flows freely as part of us. No more thought, just instinctive reaction to rhythms and notes circling endlessly.

It’s a fucking miracle.

I meet Tess's eyes glowing with relief as she snaps photos, capturing the moment. In this unguarded creative space, Dakota transformed. I guess raw talent and collaborative magic can't stay buried for long after all.

We’ve found our guy.

Over burgers later, it's just us band guys and Tess debriefing Dakota's audition.

"Kid seemed to gel with your vibe decently after that shaky start, yeah?" Ian asks, stealing a fry off my plate. "Didn't try outplaying anybody, just blended right in."

"Yeah, he rode the improv waves pretty smoothly once we gave him room," I agree. "Talent's there behind the shaggy hair for sure."

Tess smiles supportively. "You're right. The musicality and humility shone through. Fans will definitely take to that."

Emmett gestures enthusiastically, mouth full. "So, we dig Dingdong right?" Crumbs spray as he fumbles Dakota's name.

We share amused glances at the mangled moniker. Stefan lifts his soda, expression assessing. "He's young but held his own against our sound well enough. Eventually."

"Young and eager balances out old and cynical sometimes," Ian reasons, tone thoughtful as we each process our own perspectives.

I meet Tess's eyes, sensing she reads my wavelength here. The technical skills and collaborative style that Dakota brought to the table click effortlessly with how we create. There’s no sense chasing hypothetical perfection and risking the organic band magic that seems to be brewing here. Catching improbable lightning in a bottle like this feels destined somehow.

Strange how people step into your path right when you need them most.

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