Shiloh Levitsky (Lead Singer of Blonde Ivory)
I stare down at the puddle below my feet where my sweat droplets have been pooling for the past ten minutes. I squeeze my microphone tighter in my hand. I stand up straight when I hear the loud bang of Macha dropping her bass against the floor again. I turn to my right and find her leaning down to pick up the clear instrument.
"I'm sorry, guys. It's just hard to hold onto it when it's practically invisible and my guitar strap keeps breaking," she apologizes.
We give her a few seconds to hook the strap to it once more. We have had to redo this performance choreography five times now; all because Macha is incapable of holding onto her bass. Just as she looks to Dylan, our choreographer, to tell her we are ready to start again, the strap comes loose again. The loud bang sounds throughout the black box.
"Dude, come on." Kasey groans. "Just fucking hold it for five minutes. I don't want to be here all day." Macha turns back to glare at her.
"Would you two stop it? We are supposed to have all of this stuff down perfectly by the time Hayden gets back from her rite of passage or whatever." I scold.
They both turn to me with wide eyes. I know that I am being harsh. I know that we have all agreed to not mock Hayden or be mad at her for doing this, but I cannot help but believe there was a better time to leave us. She could not have waited until after the tour? She just had to leave us less than a month before our tour to see if her mother is doing well?
"Don't say that, Shiloh. We promised we wouldn't treat her that way." Macha frowns. Kasey nods; now standing from her stool. She twiddles the drumsticks around her fingers and sighs.
"Yeah... She's already going to get this sort of shit from Mark." I shrug my shoulders and run a hand through my dripping hair.
"Well, if she wanted to be let off easy, she should have asked for permission to leave. Instead of, you know, getting up and leaving without a trace," I grumble. I cross my arms around my chest and disregard the mic smacking me in the collarbone. "We had no idea where she went until she called us fourteen hours later. Sorry that that pisses me off a little." I turn back to Dylan. She looks between the three of us before I give her a slight nod.
"Alright, let's take this from the top," she says snidely.
Since we have arrived here for this practice, she never fails to remind me of Sabba, who in turn reminds me of Mark. They all have a business attitude about them. The kind of attitude that lets you know that there is no fun and games to be had. We all have to be serious around them just to make sure that we do not get fired or get scolded like children. To be honest, I only prefer this attitude on my father. Not on anybody else, though.
After another fifteen minutes of jumping up and down, spinning around in circles like a hooligan, and doing a few dramatic hair shakes, Dylan finally calls off the practice. She says that we can return tomorrow and get more practice in, and perhaps she will get lucky in that we will take our jobs seriously and she will not have to reprimand us.
That may be the case, but the case may also be that Hayden returns home to us and Dylan will have to teach her everything the rest of us have already been taught. I doubt Dylan will be too happy about that. I doubt Mark will either. Then again, when has Mark ever been happy about anything we have done?
Kasey and Macha follow behind me into the showers. I strip along the way; surprisingly finding that I do not care if they see my body. When I turn on the shower to the highest heat, Macha quickly turns it off. I narrow my eyes at her and find that she and Kasey are both staring at me with prominent scowls and glares.
YOU ARE READING
Blonde Ivory
Teen Fiction**TRIGGER WARNING** Many triggering elements (including, self-harm, depression, amongst many other things) Four girls have made their dream come true: Be in a renowned band. However, it doesn't take them long to realize that being in the starlight i...
