Page 24 of Behind the Lights

The next morning, Stoli and I walked to school in silence. This whole thing was beyond ridiculous, so I ignored him as he’d been doing to me. By lunchtime, Stoli seemed to be back to his usual self so I chose not to bring it up again.

After school, Stoli told the three of us to meet at his house on Wednesday so we could practice and see where everyone was at with the song.

When we approached our houses, he asked, “Do you wanna come in and we can jam for a while?”

“Nah, it’s all good. I’m just gonna head home and do laundry,” I replied, walking away.

Maybe a couple days apart will do us some good.And yet, saying that I felt something tighten in my chest.

Practice went okay on Wednesday. Our key issues were timing, so we spent most it trying to get that under wraps. Saturday’s session was a little better and on Sunday we were surprised to see Diamond show up.

“Hey guys, my dad kinda kicked me out,” he said, taking a seat behind the drums he used for practice. Brett, of course, had an extra set up we kept out in the garage. It was old, but it served its purpose for our broke ass band.

“He kicked you out?” we said in unison.

“Ha, not like that. Just said he didn’t want to hear the devil’s music in his house,” he sneered.

Being the smartass in the band, Mickey helpfully added, “Well, I wouldn’t recommend playing any Cradle of Filth while you live there.”

We laughed but got right to it and practiced until it was time for everyone to head home.

The next few weeks went by in a whirlwind, we spent the last week before the talent show working on our stage presence. Somehow, I was expected to get the crowd up on their feet and clapping.Me…ugh, that thought alone made me want to hurl.But we’d practiced hard and if we were going to make a go of it, a real go of it from the point of permanently making music together, then I had to quit hiding in everyone else’s shadows.

Now, here we were. Friday, the night of the talent show, and I was a nervous fucking wreck. My dad took a half day off, so he and Brett could help us get our gear to the school since none of us had our own vehicles. Better add that to the ever growing band needs list of a thousand things.

We were only allowed a total of five minutes to get set up because that is how long the act before us was on stage for.

“Everybody ready,” the drama teacher, Mrs. Powell asked us not waiting for a response as she flitted away.

“All right guys, hands in,” Stoli said, putting his in first. One by one, we stacked our hands-on top of his and yelled, “We may not be brothers by blood, but we are family.”

Somehow those simple words helped center me. I looked to the side of the stage at my father who gave me the thumbs up, and a proud smile. I knew then and there, I’d do anything to keep from disappointing him or my band brothers. I drew in a deep breath, and another before I heard her announce us. The curtain flew up and we were met with complete and utter silence. Diamond took his cue and began beating his bass drum and the rest of us followed suit.

My hands were glued to my side as I began singing, albeit rather shakily. But once I got to the first chorus, I threw my hands up in the air, clapping them above my head. When I looked over and eyed my dad, Mary, and Brett they were doing the same. Further back in the crowd I spotted Lucas doing it and some of the other kids had joined in. By the time the second chorus hit, all hands were in the air and most were on their feet. It was beyond awesome. Nerves were gone and for the first time in my life, I was rocking a crowd and I loved all two minutes and two seconds of it.

Our finish was met with the applause we’d hoped for, but never actually thought would come to fruition. We headed backstage, attacking each other and putting one another in friendly head locks. Hugs and high fives were running rampant, but that was short lived as we were advised to take our seats in the audience with the rest of the completed performers to wait until the others finished to see who’d won.

After the last performance, some cheerleader doing a hula-hoop dance, our principal Mr. McDowell took the stage. We sat straight up in our seats, holding our breath.

“Wow, this was a talent filled night for our school.”Claps erupted.“I’m proud of each and every one of our students who were brave enough to come up on this stage in front of their peers and perform.”He put his hands together, clapping as the crowd joined in.

“I need the following three performance groups to join me on stage please. Melodie Jameson, Tricia Parker, and Social Sinners.”

We looked at each other, stunned and tried our best not to run up on the stage.

“Third place trophy goes to Tricia Parker for her flute rendition of Here Comes the Sun.”Everyone clapped. She took center stage, thanked him and went back to stand where she had before.

“Second place goes to…”we held our breath,“Melodie Jameson and her fiery volcano eruption. Thank you for not burning the building down, Melodie.”He laughed, handing her a trophy.

Laughter broke out among the crowd, followed by clapping.

But that meant…

“Tonight’s winners, and for good reason, are Social Sinners playing Queen’s We Will Rock You. And that they did! Congratulations, boys.”He shook each of our hands in turn before handing the trophy to Stoli, who was standing closest to him. We turned to the crowd, holding the trophy up above our heads and noticed everyone was back on their feet again, clapping. For us.

Our folks met us back stage to help pack up. Stoli was being hugged profusely by his mom, with Brett standing proudly beside them. You couldn’t wipe the grins off any of our faces. My dad even embraced me.

“Joey, that was great. A little shaky at first, but you got over that fast. I’m so damn proud.” He pulled me into another hug.

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