Page 4 of Opening Strain

I listen to UC’s instruments as the song finishes on a high note and thank everything holy that we made it back. I have no other career path and can’t imagine my life without performing, without beingtheBennett Hardy. This persona saved me from unimaginable torment.

“Did you enjoy the movie as much as we did?” My voice reverberates throughout the theater. Cheers return back to me. “Who wants to keep on rocking?”

Tris starts playing “Crushing Blow,” and I almost freeze. This song is all Darren. Amend—wasall him until Tris put his own spin on it. Now it’s both new and old at the same time. An ode to Darren and a nod to our new sound. UC has risen from the ashes.

Next to Tris, I attack the lyrics more intensely than I ever have. The band picks up on my exuberance and the beat hits a little harder.Nice. I strut across the stage, wishing we were able to put in an extensionhere so I could venture out into the audience. Even crowd surfing wouldn’t work given the layout.

So, I make do. With the lights as hot as they are, even without a light show, it’s time for me to follow Río’s lead and strip out of this wet shirt. Not like I do ab exercises for my health. Well, I guess I do...I place the microphone into its stand and unbutton my shirt. Ladies in the crowd scream, but I can’t tell if they’re singing the lyrics with me or shouting as my bare torso comes into view. Whatever. I’ll take either.

I toss the material off to the side, causing my UC necklace to bounce, and a roadie runs over to retrieve the shirt. We launch into another song. Holding the mic, I strut around the stage, taking time to share space with 007. Even though he’s not returned to the same demeanor as before Darren left us, 007’s found a new footing. Maybe it’s the fact he now wears Darren’s studded belt? In any case, he’s the talisman for all of us. We’ll never be the same but we’re still kicking ass.

I make my way over to the drums, enjoying Río’s pounding beat. If it weren’t for his oversized personality, we wouldn’t be here today. He cuts through the crap with a style all his own, whether it be in music or life. The drummer hits various cymbals at least a dozen times, then spins his drumstick, ending with it pointing at me.

My head shakes. What a ham.Thinks the guy wearing leather pants, ten rings, and as many bracelets.I pull the mic away and snort, earning a rimshot from Río. Grinning, I look out onto the crowd, feeding on their energy.

Because I can, I say, “You’re the reason we’re here. We kept on moving forward—even when we didn’t want to—'cause we could feel you all rooting for us. We love playing music, and we’re thrilled you came to watch a movie about our reintroduction into polite society.” I grin. “Or not so polite!”

The crowd, our fans, cheer.

I seize this moment to introduce the UC band members. With abow toward Río, I say, “River Sullivan’s on drums. Who here wants to swim in his river?”

Ladies scream, earning a smirk from our drummer.

When they quiet a bit, I shift my attention to 007. Not wanting to disrupt the balance of the band, I offer, “Pierce DeLuca plays the bass better than anyone else in the business. Give it up for our own 007!” To squeals, 007 spikes his chin toward me then takes his solo.

“Next up is our newest member, Tristan Lambert. As you know, Tris beat out a whole host of other keyboardists to get this spot. We’re lucky to have him with us, as he brings his own twist on things. Show some love for Tris!”

The resounding approval from the audience rivals that received from the other band members, which further reinforces how right we were to pick him to join UC. For his part, Tris’s lips tick upward in a smile showing how happy he is to be here with us. He deserves it.

I walk over to the guitarist. Coop plays a riff from Led Zepplin as I approach, showing off his mad skills. Stopping next to him, I say, “This guy on guitar here is Cooper O’Shea. He keeps us on our toes, always with wise advice...even when we don’t ask for it.”

People laugh as Coop ends his spotlight with “Have a Nice Day” by Bon Jovi. I clap. Gotta give him props, he can be funny when he wants to be.

“Coop’s a real comedian when he has a guitar strapped around him.” Chuckling into the mic, I start to introduce myself, but have to pull away as I’m laughing too hard. This return—the movie and our getting back on stage—is exactly what I needed. What the band needed.

“What I was gonna say is I’m Bennett Hardy.”

I open my naked arms wide, and our fans lose their shit.

Even though I’m enjoying their response, I have one final thing I need to share. The audience needs to hear it, and so does the rest of the band. My lungs fill. “Not going to lie. What you saw in the movie was a pretty accurate description. Losing Darren was awful. Trulyone of the darkest days of our collective lives.” I glance upward. “We like to think of our return as us being guided by him from above.”

I step back.

From the crowd, clapping rings out.

The guys and I exchange glances, confirming we’re all still all right. 007 is the last to join in, but his smile says it all. We’re back and we’re here to stay.

I raise the microphone again. “We have one final song to play for you all. It’s the song that played over the credits of the kickass film done by Quinn Walker you just watched. Let’s make sure all the folks in surrounding buildings know Untamed Coaster is in the house. Are you ready for ‘Refocused Destiny’?”

Before me, people jump up and down, screaming our band’s name. Individual member’s names. The song’s name. I’m high on their enthusiasm.

Río’s beat is hard, the exact right tone for this song. Our destiny has been refocused by adding Tris, as well as with Darren’s guidance from the other side. The view from here is spectacular.

I race around the stage, checking in with each of the band members and the audience in front of me. The night—the red carpet, the movie, this performance—is one for the history books. We’ve never sounded better.

Turning to backstage, I shoot Luke a grin. This time, he gives me a double thumbs up in return. Even our manager knows we’ve made giant steps forward.

I spin to face the crowd and give the ending of the song all I have. After my last drawn-out note, the band takes over with instrumentals rising into a crescendo. Despite never having practiced any of this before on a stage like this, we (metaphorically) blow the roof off. When the song’s about to end, I leap into the air, tossing my fist overhead, my legs outstretched in a split rivaling an Olympian. When I land, the music ends as if my jump were the final exclamation point.

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