Treble Clef

Part 10 Happy Endings...

I took a month off to grieve Tahoe’s death. Then it was back to work. Things were different this time, I had no school work to worry about, no girlfriend, no friends period. All I had was music.

                I never talked to anyone, I only wrote. I was beginning to miss the cool sensation of a girl’s kiss on my lips so much that at night I would fantasize. But not about sex, about love. One night I dreamed that me and Brianna had gotten together and had been in a relationship for 3 years. We would walk the beaches together, and when I had night terrors she would hug me from behind and tell me that everything was ok.

                It was amazing, to feel her long crinkled hair falling over my shoulder. The cool touch of her lips as they left small traces down my neck. Her warm feminine hands sliding down chest. My body was covered in goose bumps as a chill rushed over my body from the cooling droplets of sweat that was a result of my night mares.

It was all so wonderful, but they were only dreams. I believe the hardest part of waking up was that realization that no matter what, I would never see her again. The day she left, she had made the right choice. In my emotional state I was no good for her. Even though she was all right for me.

But that’s the nature of the clef, you get one upside, and that’s fame and fortune. But the rest of your life has to be total hell on earth.

                I had come to the point in my career where writing was easy for me, a little too easy. I was writing hit songs in less than two hours. A d as soon as the song was written, I called the band in to record. It was like clockwork, we were the best. The fans loved me, me but my band hated me the worst part is that I had become content with who I was. I no longer cared if anyone liked me, I only cared about being great.

                I was once told that greatness has no friends, greatness is loved but not liked. Greatness is so focused on the big prize, that the seemingly minor prize of friendship disappears to the subconscious. Greatness works 23 hours a day, and the other hour is spent preparing for the next day.

But what that wise man didn’t tell me, is that greatness an addiction. And unlike an addiction to drugs, you can’t be set free from this one, it is a habit that can’t be kicked. It’s in your blood, it becomes a part of you, the only way to get rid of it is to destroy yourself. That’s why we have to pick and choose what we’re great at. Be great at saving and changing lives. Be great at feeding the poor, and providing hope to the young and hopeless. But don’t be great at self-pleasure and narcissism. Be great for everyone but yourself.

                But it was too late, I had chosen   my path and I had to follow it to the end.

As I sat in the green room backstage, I began to feel a sense nervousness for the first time in my entire performing life. This was it, Madison Square Garden, 35,000 people would be at my feet screaming my name letting me know that I had arrived. This was my moment, I got on my knees and said a prayer for Emily, Benji, Jacob and Tahoe. Quickly wiped the tear from my eyes and walked down the hall.

                The show was amazing, my best performance. Girls crying, fans screaming, lights blasting. For that one moment is was as if the old Broken Aces were with me, I looked back and saw Tahoe on the bass, head banging making his curly hair dance. Jacob was playing that piano as beautifully as ever, Benji whaling away on those drums. And as I looked to my left Emily had her arm around my shoulder singing the vocals with me, stopping every now and then to give me a kiss.

And as we played the final note of our final song, just like that they vanished, gone forever and my new band was back.

As the applause rolled, and a standing ovation was given. Tears began to rush from my eyes. I had made it, I had accomplished my dream. Maybe the Treble Clef does have a happy ending.

Max looked up at the overcast sky above him, then he looked at the roaring waves that crashed on the rocks just beneath the clip he was on top of. Then he looked down and wrote a few more words in his journal. He then closed the book, gave it a light kiss, laid it down on the rock he was sitting on and walked to the edge of the cliff.

Max was now 25 years old, a young man, still his prime. He turned his back to the cliff staring at the journal in which he had written his life story. He recalled the final words he wrote In it: “Many people ask me, after all I’ve been through, why didn’t I just quit music. My answer is always that music was my first love. But it’s not. The reason I never quit is because as the laws of physics clearly prove…Once you fall off a cliff…you can’t go back”

                The young musician shifted his weight causing him to become heavy up to, making hs body fall in a backwards motion, and the moment his feet were no longer touching the cliff, he closed his eyes.

The drop felt like an eternity as he recalled his entire life, the final image in his mind was Brianna sitting on a beach, her hair flowing in the wind. His thoughts were interrupted as he crashed into the jagged rocks below, staring up as he breathed his final breaths, all he could do was look at his Trouble Cliff.

~End~

Thank you all so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed