Only Once

Chapter Two: Into the Rain

Chapter Two: Into the Rain

Meanwhile, precisely five miles away from the party, Spencer Collins was in his friend's garage practicing for the upcoming band competition. They had been rehearsing nonstop for the past week and desperately wanted to win. However, when taken into account that the lead singer's voice wobbled at the high notes, the keyboardist kept hitting the wrong keys and the sound of drums was louder than any other sound, the chances of them winning the competition and getting their big break was looking rather slim.

"Man, we suck." Clay, the lead singer and guitarist, sighed after they finished the only original song they had.

"I know," Jesse, the keyboardist and Clay's younger brother, agreed. "It all sounds so off."

Clay sighed as he flipped his shaggy blonde hair out of his eyes. "Well maybe if you didn't make so many mistakes we'd sound better, Jess."

Jesse's freckled cheeks flamed up. "Oh yeah? Well maybe if you could actually sing we'd sound decent! I mean, you can't even talk properly 'cause of your lisp!"

"I do not have a lisp." Clay retorted in a slow, menacing tone. "I just have a slight speech impediment that makes me sound British. Chicks dig that."

When Clay spoke, his R's would come out sounding like W's. For example, instead of saying "really", it would come out as "weally". Back when Spencer had first joined the band, he thought he was an awful idea to have Clay as the leader singer. However, to his surprise, Clay ended up being a good singer who in fact did sound slightly British when he sung.

"Trust me on this; you do not sound British when you talk. You actually sound like a four year who's sucking on a lollipop and trying to speak at the same time." Jesse snorted.

Clay's grip on the microphone he was holding tightened. He opened his mouth to say something but Spencer quickly cut in.

"Guys, it's fine, you're both pretty bad." He said with his face expressionless.

Russell, the drummer, snickered and Clay scowled but didn't say anything. The sad truth was that the only person Clay had the nerve to talk back and argue with was his younger brother.

"Let's go through it one more time. Jesse, try to stop making mistakes on the keyboard. And Russell, don't bang on the drums so loudly." Spencer instructed as he gently strummed his bass.

The band, The Disastrous Destruction of Chaos, started to play their song, 'Screw You, Asshole', again from the beginning. This time went a lot better than their last time. Jesse made less mistakes and Russell managed to play softer. And when Clay played his guitar solo and sang simultaneously, the lyrics sounded almost comprehensible.

"Hey, we actually sounded good that time! Right, Spence?" Jesse exclaimed after they were done.

Spencer, who had a monotone voice and rarely showed emotion, was essentially the unnamed leader of the group. All decisions were first run by him and all the band members, especially Jesse, strived to gain his approval and contentment.

"Right," he absentmindedly agreed as he stared at the clock that hung on the wall of their garage. It dawned on him that it was one o'clock in the morning and he was supposed to have been home two hours ago. Oh well. No one had called his cell phone so he doubted anyone had even noticed his absence.

"But it's fine," Russell, the optimistic one, piped up, "we're progressing really nicely. The band slam is in three months from now. Three months is plenty of time to perfect this song and write two more."

The band slam required each indie or alternative band to have three original songs and to perform at least one of their songs in front of a crowd. If the crowd liked the band and their music then the band could continue playing their songs. However, if the crowd didn't like the band and booed them, they would be required to get off the stage. Although it sounded simple enough, the crowd was notorious for their censure towards almost any newcomer and some people even went as far as bringing rotten fruit and used condoms to hurl at the performers.