Short Story

I looked around the roaring arena, at all the faces gazing back at me, and a painfully large smile spread across my face. At that moment my life felt flawless. I heard our manager yelling from the side of the stage for me to exit the stage. I thought to myself just a little more. I felt so invincible, nothing could ever be so right in my life. I heard the tone change in my manager's voice as he yelled again, he was definitely growing impatient; I hurried off the stage and joined my band in our dressing room. We had a flight to catch that night to Japan so I quickly changed out of my sweaty clothes and packed up what I wanted to take on the plane with me. When I stepped outside of the venue I was met with blinding flash bulbs and screaming fans racing toward me. I hated knowing that I couldn't stay and meet each one of these people who support what our band does. I spotted the plain white van waiting for us on the street and I quickly jumped inside of it to the disappointment of all those left outside with unsigned merchandise. I couldn't bear to look at their faces overflowing with let down so I closed my eyes and let out a long exhale as I rested my head against the cold window. I was exhausted, but the thought of being in Japan at this time tomorrow was enough to keep me from nodding off on the way to another nameless airport. Although I must have appeared to be sleeping because no one bothered me the whole van ride. Just as we arrived I was startled by a vibration on my thigh, I reached in my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. I didn't

recognize the number on the screen so I just stared at the device until the voicemail notification sounded.

"C'mon man," said my band mate Sam.

I pushed the cell phone back into my pocket and got out of the van with the other guys. As I walked through the airport with my band I tried to ignore the stares and second glances. It felt like I was that really tempting candy bar at the check out line at the grocery store; people were looking at me as if they couldn't decide whether to give in and pick me up or not. It was an odd feeling, but I love my life so much that it doesn't really bother me. I appreciated the support more than the people behind the stares would ever know. I reached Gate 20 and slumped down in a seat facing a large window-wall. I sat and watched a blue and silver plane defy gravity. Suddenly I remembered the voicemail I hadn't listened to yet and once again pulled my cell phone out from my jeans pocket. The message began in my ear and I instantly knew the sound of my mother's voice.

"Benjamin, it's your mother. Your father had a heart attack and he's in the hospital. Please call me back on this number when you get this," she said.

The message felt cold and direct. I hadn't spoken to my family in almost 5 years and this news filled me with an array of mixed emotions. I couldn't help but to care, he was my father after all. Family is always family. I placed my phone back in my pocket; I just didn't want to deal with this now. There was a loud announcement echoing overhead telling us that our flight was going to be delayed for at least 2 hours due to bad weather in another city where our plane was flying from. I was so tired that I took off my red hoodie, balled it up like a pillow and laid across the bench of seats. Metal bars jabbed my side, but I was too exhausted and lazy to move. As I laid there all I could think about was my father. I felt so delirious from fatigue of this lifestyle that I heard my memories of my father being told to me in my head as if it were fiction while I lay there semi-conscious.

Five years ago, alone in his spacious, fresh linen scented bedroom, Ben stood frozen. He glanced around his room and remembered all the great moments that he experienced here. Those good times, however, left Ben unsatisfied. He always felt that there was something else he should be doing. He glanced at his watch, and then hurried down the stairs and out the front door of the home he had known for the last 18 years.

Outside, waiting in an old red Mustang was Ben's friend, Sam. They had met in high school after Sam moved to Houston from Dallas. Sam was very different from Ben; he was in a band and lived a very carefree lifestyle. This intrigued Ben intensely. Ben was raised in a highly affluent family where rock and roll was prohibited and the idea of joining a band was preposterous. The prospect of discovering a new world made Ben's blood flow like lava through his veins. This was going to be the first time that they would hang out together outside of school.

Ben slipped into Sam's car and they sped off. Fifteen minutes later they pulled up in a long driveway. They had arrived at Scott's house, the drummer of Sam's band, Arma Angelus. The two boys got out of the car and went into the garage. Just inside was the complete set for a 4-piece band, Scott, and another boy named Ricky. Sam invited Ben over to watch his band practice. Ben jumped at the opportunity to do something that didn't involve sport coats and little sandwiches.

What Sam and the other guys did not yet know about Ben is that he actually had an extreme passion for music since age nine. His family had discouraged every form of music except what the family heard at church every Sunday. When Ben was nine he sat in his large walk-in closet with the door shut and chiseled a hole in the back wall with a screwdriver. The hole opened up an empty space that hid behind the closet. Over the years Ben stuffed the hole full of albums that his parents didn't want him to have. He kept it hidden by stacking shoe boxes in front of it. Not a single person ever knew that Ben did this, but the guys in the band were about to find out.

The boys situated themselves in the musky garage. Ben took a seat in an old recliner, so worn that it had patches of duct tape on it. The recliner faced the other 3 boys who had all gone to their instruments to begin practice. Ben quickly noticed that there was no fourth guy, no singer.

"Where's the singer?" he asked aloud.

"Well.....we don't really have one....yet," replied Sam, "but if you're up to it dude, you can knock yourself out with that mic over there, we can mess around with some covers for shits and giggles."

Ben thought what my parents don't know won't kill them.

Ben stood up and grabbed the mic stand and moved it from the corner of the room and stood between Ricky and Sam. Surprisingly, Ben found himself completely