Let Me Call You Sweetheart

Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck

You gaze out onto the crowd and approach Harley's microphone tentatively.

Terry counts you in, and Jenna leaps in with a super heavy bass line.  You gulp nervously, and you see Eddie over the shoulder of a girl using her phone. He waves his hand gently to the side of her, and as he raises his hand further up, so does hers. Her cellphone stops as it is pointing directly at the stage. He nods at you, and you feel the guitar body pull you to it just as you play the opening riff.

Eddie paces the floor, and as he passes people, they turn their heads toward the stage. Every time your eyes find his, they are staring directly at you.

As you sing into the microphone, your voice sounds duplicated. You look at Eddie again. He's mouthing the lyrics. You hear yet another voice intertwines with what you are already producing.

You look around at Jenna and Terry, who are playing ferociously, but their faces look scared. You try to smile encouragingly at them.

Your head gets snapped back around to the floor area like someone just grabbed you and pulled you back to face them.

To your surprise, there is actually a crowd. Some of them are dancing or recording on their phones. Even some old-timers are tapping their hands on the bar and looking over at you all.

The floor is getting more and more crowded. It's hard to spot Eddie now. You scan the crowd as you roar out the lyrics, your hands don't even feel like you have any say in what they are doing, but it feels incredible.

Your eyes find Eddie, and the crowd at the back are dancing around him. But, unfortunately, one reveller gets a bit too close and has turned Eddie's eyes from you.

You feel a pang of jealousy stab through, which usually originates somewhere in your gut, but this time it surges up your arms too and rushes down your spine.

You send the plectrum screaming down the strings just as the guitar wanted you to. You glare at the dancer and, through gritted teeth, spit the lyrics.

"You want the good life,
You break your back."

You send them reeling into a table full of glasses.

"You snap your fingers
You snap your neck."

Throwing them against the nearest wall

And as you let out a demonic scream into the microphone, they drop to the floor.

No one except Eddie pays any attention to their misfortune.

Eddie's eyes are back where she wants them, "Better," she says in your mind.

His eyes are wide, looking up at you, and his mouth is ever so slightly open. You can see his chest heaving.

Anyone that gets near him is thrown to the side, "That's it", she says, "He's ours".

You send the thundering song home. You look briefly at your hands moving around the guitar. Your fingertips are stained red.

As the song ends, you hear a clatter of drum sticks as Terry throws them against the wall.

The crowd cheers and whoops. Eddie smiles widely and throws the metal horns at you. The guitar body finally releases you, and you feel pain surging through your hands.

"Thank you. Goodnight," you say in the mic and leave the stage.

You jog out to follow the others in the parking lot, the guitar still around your waist.

You hear raised voices. "Call them right fucking now", Terry yells, "He's fucking with us out there."

Harley is grabbing a phone from Jenna, who is in floods of tears.