You Can Always Say It Back

James Point of View:

I walked down the corridor and I could already hear the crowd going. A year ago this would have been completely unimaginable, but reality these days is a very different place from what I would have ever imagined. Yeah right. You couldn’t even think about what the hell you wanted to do the next day a year back, much less in the future. Not that I’m not grateful, but I don’t think I’m exactly how I should be. It doesn’t feel right. All because of that stupid meeting.

Lewis Point of View:

I looked to my left and saw James walking backstage. Something doesn’t feel right about him. Ever since he got back from London with Carson and Peter he is always too serious for James. Something happened. Carson is being really tight-lipped as well. Not normal. Damn that guy for choosing now to clam up. I know that this is driving Ian up the walls. We find ourselves asking what the hell is up with them, and why suddenly there are secrets. If not that, something isn’t being discussed between us. Never happened before, and the tension is being felt around the boys. I hope he cracks soon, or else we’re going to be thrown into the loony bin too soon for my taste. He runs his hands through his shoulder length black hair, and again, just so he can make it seem stylishly unkempt. Whatever. Guy is too damn pretty for his own good. I see him coming in my direction and he starts talking.

“ Have you seen the guys? Kirk said we only have about 10 minutes till show time. You ok or something man? You look like you’ve been thinking too hard. Did it hurt you much?” He sniggers.

“Oh shut it you asshole, of course it wouldn’t hurt. I am, thankfully different from you, and thinking for me comes easily, unlike you, I don’t find it difficult simply because of how often I do it and how incredible smart I happen to be!” I finish of assuming a rather pompous pose and puffing out my chest.

“Oh, I don’t know. It doesn’t seem like it’s true from when you tried to force feed Carson’s dog your girl’s horrible cooking and got caught. God, I still remember how stupid of you it was to try and get out of it by saying that the dog attacked you because he wanted it. Her face.” Peter trails off doubling over laughing. Where did he come from?

“Who’s face? Your mother’s? Yes, she was kind of looking a bit peckish last night when I took her against the kitchen counter. God that woman has a set of lungs I tell you...” Ian comes out behind James and dodges a punch from Peter.

“Dude, not funny. My mother. Now I have to explain why I flinch when she asks me about you when I come home for Christmas. Gah, the image...” Peter trails off in disgust.

“Ian, come on. Stop freaking little Peter out. We’re going now. Everyone ready? Now, let’s show them how it’s done.” Carson walks out of the dressing room and passes us, clearly nervous about something. Hey, a show in front of 14,000 people will freak even the bravest guy.

“All right! You heard the man! Lets show them!” James yells.

I laugh and move onstage to my drums. I hear all the yells and look out into the venue and see all of the fans. I’m glad the lights are off at the moment, but I can’t help but think that they look like ants from here. For a bit it gets overwhelming. I look into the front and see Carson looking at the lyric sheet, and Ian slipping the strap of his guitar standing on my right. I look over to my left and see James slipping his own too. Peter comes over slipping his bass guitar and leans over.

“A bit too much, isn’t it?” I can only nod and swallow a bit of my beer.

I see Carson trying to adjust his belt a bit more, and put the sheet down. It’s show time.