Going Nowhere

Run For Your Life - Chapter Three

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Excuse the mistakes

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The worn soles of my converse sneakers slapped against the cracking pavement as I sprinted down the alley. My guitar case bumped awkwardly against my legs, and I'm sure that if a stranger could see me right now, I'd look like I was having a walking seizure.

I shook my head in a pathetic attempt to un-stick my hair from the back of the neck, but the rain pouring down from the sky prevented any success. Finally, the service door came into view, and I reached for the handle and yanked the heavy metal door open. I jumped into the building and hurried through the back hallway until I emerged in the main room of The Garage.

"Somebody's late."

I shook my rain soaked hair out like a dog, and droplets of water went flying in all directions. "I missed the stupid bus and had to wait half an hour," I stated, my voice undoubtedly irritated. The rain had started coming when I was at the bus stop, and there was no glass hut for me to take shelter in. Needless to say, I was now grumpy.

I pulled my guitar out from under my jacket, where I'd attempted to shield it from the rain, and I placed it on the stage where Ethan and RJ were waiting. I shrugged out of my damp jacket and threw it carelessly on an empty table, and I took the steep step to the stage. I pulled my acoustic out of its case and settled down on the stool next to my microphone.

"How long have you guys been waiting?" I asked as I lifted the guitar strap over my head.

"Only about fifteen minutes," Ethan answered from behind the drum set. "RJ was already setting up when I got here."

"Thanks," I said, giving RJ an apologetic look. Usually, I got to The Garage first and set up the equipment because RJ and Ethan were either coming from school or work, and I felt bad about making them get out the instruments and amps.

"It's not a big deal, Linds," RJ replied with a dismissive wave of the hand, "the drums were already up, so all I really had to do was grab the microphones and the amps. I also grabbed your Strat." He nodded towards the familiar black case sitting on the stage next to his own, and I thanked him again.

"So," Ethan said, tapping his drumsticks against the rim of his drums, "We're playing tomorrow night, right?"

"Yes sir," I replied, instantly getting excited at the thought of performing, "Which reminds me; we need to figure out what we're going to play."

"Oh," RJ said, sitting up straighter on his stool, "I actually had an idea about that." He placed his bass gently on top of his case and reached towards my guitar. "May I?"

"Yeah, go ahead," I replied, handing it over to him. RJ grew up in a music family, so he could play pretty much any instrument, and he could also sing. At first, when we formed Hardly Human, I nominated RJ for vocals. He insisted I had the better voice, and to this day, he maintained that opinion, especially when I doubted myself.

RJ adjusted my guitar on his knee and counted to three quietly. Then, his fingertips plucked at the guitar strings, and I immediately recognized the song as "Shiver" by Coldplay.

So I look in your direction,

But you pay me no attention, do you?

I know you don't listen to me.

'Cause you say you see straight through me, don't you?

And on and on from the moment I wake,