Pressure

The song started like it did every single time we started, I was playing slowly and Matt was singing in his amazing voice. Dear God blasted through the speakers and all around the auditorium in this gym. The drums were barely heard, and the bass made an amazing effect in the back ground. Brian’s solo was absolutely amazing.

The only person I couldn’t stop thinking about during this song was Annabelle, and I knew why. Everyone knew why. I was the worst boyfriend that anyone could ever think of, and I doubt that she could ever even forgive me. Why couldn’t I just not make it to this one concert? It’s not like we haven’t canceled a concert before. We could’ve this time. I mean hell, think of the situation.

But my mind was already decided the morning before this one, and there was no way I was going to change it. But this fucking song was going to make me go fucking crazy if it didn’t stop and changed to a different one. Matt just had to pick the perfect time to play this song, huh? He knew it would change everything that I even thought of that day. The way I disappointed Annabelle.

The crowd’s roaring was pulsing through my veins and I could feel everyone’s heart beat, and the rhythm of the guitar going through my bones. Then, out of no where, everything fell silent, and reality finally set in. What the hell was I doing there, when I was supposed to be somewhere else? Some place where I was really needed.

The beat of the drums finally set in the headache, and I could feel the throbbing pain in my forehead and on the side of my head. I wasn’t going to be some lame-ass guitar player that left her all alone in that bed.

“Fuck my life,” I said through the microphone and looked as Matt, Brian, Johnny, and Jimmy turned towards my way. I screeched my guitar and took it off of my shoulder. I dropped it to the ground and ran off the stage as if I was some kind of coward.

Which, I knew was true, because if I wasn’t a coward, I’d be at that hospital beside her.