"Dude, I think people will actually like this song," Nick said to me. Nick is the guitarist of my band Against All Odds. I am the bassist and vocal, and our drummer is Mike, Mike Williams. Mike is probably my best friend, we've known eachother for years, since grade school. We tell eachother everything, anything that has ever happened to me, he knows. Him and I had a band that just did not work out called Fallen Angel, we had that in high school and I thought that we were pretty good until our drummer quit, and everything fell apart. I kept all the songs that I wrote, and they're probably my best songs because I was getting bullied to the point of suicide and I let all my emotions out with my pen, and I made some magical things too.
I walk out on to a stage, a full stadium crowd, People chanting our names, Their fists are raised in the air, and they are jumping all around. I walk uo to my black mic stand and everyone screams louder than before, and I strum my bass, then I'm joined by the beating of drumsticks on the drums, and the amazing riff that Nick wrote. I sing the words of the lyrics that I wrote when I was in highschool and I just stop singing mid song, and I can't help but smile because I have achieved what I wanted, I wanted to be able to become one with people with my songs, and witnessing everyone singing my song together has made this a reality. And thats when I wake up, and my dream is over.
I get uo out of my bed, I love my bed, it is where I am my happiest. I go into the kitchen and just grab a banana, I'm not really in the mood for a big breakfast. I sit at my kitchen table and open my bag that I left on the table when I got home last night, and pull out my lyricbook. I open the banana and take a little bite. I write the words that have been stuck in my head for days, The blood on the floor, doesn't belong to her, theres gotta be someone else, someone who can tell us, tell us what happened. I let the ink sink into the papaer and dry, I use gel pens so that I can watch the words literally come to life on the paper. I remeber writing lyrics all over my papers in schools and getting in trouble.
I already got dressed, so I'm ready to go to band practice. I grab my coffin bass case carrying my beautiful instrument. I open the door and remember my camera. I also am my bands official photographer. Today, we have a photo shoot. I get in my car and leave. I'm sitting in traffic and I'm just listening to some music on my stereo. I get to band practice and walk in. Nick is there and we are setting up our instruments, waiting for Mike. We wait for like 20 mins, and than I think about it and realize that Mike is never late. I call him, and he doesnt answer so I leave a voicemail. I call again 25 mins later, theres an answer, but its not a voice that sounds nothing like Mike. They say that hes been in an accident.
