Blood For Blood

Scream Until There's Nothing Left

“Alright, it’s been fucking awesome tonight. You rock, Seattle!”

The crowd met Vic’s yell with screams and hollers of their own. His smile grew and he laughed as Jaime pretended to fall off his riser dramatically.

The bassist crawled back up to his microphone, gasping, “How the hell do they still have that much energy? Can they be any louder?”

“I don’t know. One way to find out.” The lead singer of Pierce the Veil walked to the edge of the stage and shouted into his own microphone, “Can you get any fucking louder?”

And apparently they could. Jaime “fell” once again and Vic stood center stage with his arm raised, leading the battle cry and basking in the euphoria of hearing so many voices screaming for him and his band. He turned to Tony who was off to the side with his eyebrows raised and let out a bubbly laugh as the guitarist just shook his head, mouthing “wow.” Vic almost started jumping giddily but resisted because it probably wouldn’t be very punk rock. Instead, he sent a huge contagious grin toward his brother on drums.

“Goodbye. I’ve lived a good life,” Jaime groaned as the noise died down slightly, lying on the stage floor.

Vic kneeled by his side, grasping Jaime’s hand when he offered it weakly. “Dude. Jaime. You can’t die yet, asshole. What about our next song?”

The immense crowd roared again. Vic was absolutely beaming with delight.

“Nope. Can’t do it. Go on without me.” Jaime made a show of coughing and wheezing. “They’re too strong. These crazy fans have killed me.”

“Jaime, no.” The fans laughed at Mike’s feminine gasp and high-pitched mockery of the scene before him.

“Okay.” Vic said simply, dropping Jaime’s arm and standing up, walking back to the front of the stage. “The show must go on. It was nice knowing you, Jaime.”

The bassist got up slowly from the stage floor, glaring at Vic’s back and looking offended as the singer got everything ready for the next song. “I see how it is.”

 “Oh, that’s exactly how it is,” Vic bantered, moving mic wires to be sure they wouldn’t get tangled or trip somebody. They may be a hardcore punk rock band, but that doesn’t mean anyone should get hurt. “This is show business.”

“Right, right,” Jaime put his microphone back in its stand and checked his instrument for any issues. “I forgot we signed that contract saying if one of us drops dead then they’ll just bring in a replacement from the side.” He stopped fiddling with his bass and looked at the crowd seriously. “Like, you guys would never know this but we’ve literally got clones of each of us backstage, and if anything happens to the original then they’ll just pop out and take our place.”

The crowd laughed and Vic covered his own smile with a hand.

Quiet Tony the turtle spoke up as well. “They would actually just finish the set on top of our fucking corpses. Like, they don’t even care, they would dance on our bodies.”

“That’s just how serious we are about our music.” Jaime said, bobbing his neck. “Like, you know those Pierce the Veil guys? They died during their set and still kept the show going.”

Vic had to bend over to catch his breath from laughing and the fans kept up with their dispersed, popcorn-style screaming of how much they loved the band.

 “Super hardcore, that’s just how we are.” Mike played a small but intense drum fill to emphasize his point.

“That’s how we roll, bitches.” Jaime finished.