Terror Twin [Def Leppard] #Wattys2016

XIX: Promises

Steve strummed his guitar, playing each string separately with his thumb.

"Sounds good." He murmured to himself, removing the guitar from around his body and leaving it on the stand. The roadies would deal with the placement for the show the next day. Steve glanced over at Rick, who was seated at his kit, staring out at the huge space that would later be filled with screaming fans. They always liked to have everything set up early, and if that meant a whole day before the show, they did it.

"How you feelin' about it, mate?" Steve called, trotting over and up the stairs to Rick.

"Pretty good. I'm still quite nervous, though." Rick chuckled, twirling a drumstick in his hand.

"You're gonna be great. All the fans have been dying for you to come back." Steve assured his friend, smiling genuinely.

"I'm still shocked by the fact that we have 'fans'." Rick snickered.

"Yeah, it's still all so surreal, honestly. Everything seems to be going right." Steve smiled softly.

Steve had quit drinking. He had done it. Never had he been so proud of himself.

But never had the urge been stronger.

The band was about half complete with the writing for their soon-to-be-produced new album. Although it was missing a title, and any ideas for cover art, there was a picture coming together in Joe's mind. They already had eight tracks ready to be recorded. Joe didn't feel it was finished, though; and he really hadn't taken a true liking to two of the tracks, Desert Song and Fractured Love. He didn't think the others had, either.

Hysteria.

Joe had seen the word on a billboard during the drive into Ireland and instantly fell in love with it.

Hysteria: a state in which your emotions (such as love) are so strong that you behave in an uncontrolled way.

Joe wanted it to be the album's name. So much so that he was putting all his song-writing energy into creating a ballad named Hysteria, so he'd have a good excuse for suggesting it.

All he had was "I gotta know tonight if you're alone tonight. Can't stop this feeling, can't stop this fire".

"Hey, Joe."

Phil's voice broke through Joe's mental barrier. The guitarist had just boarded the bus Joe had been hanging out in, confronting the man where he had plopped himself down on the floor, armed with only a pencil and a notebook.

"Whatcha working on?"

"It's nothing right now." Joe admitted, pushing the paper over to where Phil had sat down. Also on the floor. Who needs couches?

"Hysteria. That's a sexy word." Phil chuckled at the title. "Can you sing what you've got?"

Joe went ahead and did so.

Phil grinned.

"Mate, that's awesome. I fucking love it." Phil praised, already trying to construct riffs in his mind. Mutt said he was aiming for a record where every song could be a hit. They could do that.

"Thanks, Phil. I only wish I could write more. All I have is the start of this verse."

"That sounds more like a hook, y'know." Phil pointed out. Joe raised an eyebrow.