‹ Prequel: Soria Girl
Sequel: Lukey Kid ›
Status: Regular updates every Sunday and Wednesday (when it begins)
Brendan Dude
Alive
“Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to last year’s winner…Plaster Caster!”
I trotted behind all the speakers and guitars to my home - the stool. The wooden sticks slid around in my sweaty hands, and once I got a firm grip, they stuck.
Ren’s face was completely flushed, and I could see his knees wobble from the back of the stage. Soria didn’t look too scared, and neither did Luke. The velvet red curtains, pulled up to let the school know we were here, framed my vision and blocked out the blinding heat of the lights. My heart, however, pounded up in my throat like it was saying, “Come on, get started!”
I took that as a cue to begin pounding the bass drum.
After a few beats, the rest of them strummed their guitars to establish the opening of the song – “Alive.” Soria wrote it when she was in Santa Monica for the summer, and it had that real summery vibe to it. It sounded real 90’s, like I could imagine Third Eye Blind or Everclear playing it, but it was cool. I wasn’t too big on that kind of music, but it was different when I was actually playing it. The more I thought about it, the more sense it made.
“Feels like a couple years ago
Good as gold, no sign of snow - let’s go...”
Ren sang his heart out, only playing backup guitar when Soria stepped up and did a little filler. She had a big smile on her face like this was the best day of her life, and I couldn’t blame her. Luke just looked…mellow. But I was higher than the ceiling, than the stars. It just felt so cool to be up here on the stage again after two previous performances.
“And you just keep on singin’ the same old song
Over and over
And I’m still tryin’ to make it through the days
Without dyin’-”
Chorus time. I grinned so wide, my lips bled a little from being chapped in the winter air.
“I just wanna feel alive
For this one time in my life
I wanna feel important
I don’t care if it’s a lie
And there’s a buzzin’ in my brain
Says, ‘It’s getting kinda late’
But, I don’t wanna go home…”
Ren couldn’t resist a smile back at us, and I felt a little better. I don’t know why he’d get so worked up over it. Soria was proud; I could hear it in the way she strummed her guitar like she wanted it louder.
“It’s pretty cool how memories never fade
No matter the case.
Things don’t happen on their own.
Times change
People grow
Before you know it
Ya gotta go…”
I never really realized how evident it was that Soria wrote it about her move to and from Santa Monica. I had to wonder if anyone in the crowd caught it, or if even Ren or Luke did - but I doubted it. I didn’t even wanna ask about it.
During the bridge, Luke walked backward and I felt him smile at me. I couldn’t see it, but I just know when that kid is smiling. Always. I was curious at how music took him away.
“Look to the ocean and smile, smile
Let it sink in for a while, while
When you get gone, I’ll just cry, cry
But eventually, we all die, die.”
Ren closed his eyes and let his guitar go limp, just hanging by the strap around his shoulder. He clasped the mic as if it were his lifeline, lost in the music. Suddenly, the cafetorium lights seemed brighter, shining on us, the closer for the show. I knew the high I was on was soon coming to a close, but nothing good can last - I knew that, too. Like the best day ever, I made it worthwhile.
We played through the chorus like the first two times, and then added a different version of it. Because one didn’t do enough justice.
“I’m a-starin’ to the sky
Asking God if he knows why
The day’s gotta end
‘Cause I’ll be missin’ you, my friend
The clock’s just flying ‘round again
Now it’s driving me insane
And it’s time to go back home…”
The way the last line was sung gave me a warm feeling down my spine, reassuring that this feeling was in no way over with. Even when we left the stage after a good applause, Plaster Caster wasn’t over our high.
“That was awesome!” Soria shouted backstage. We were all smiling and laughing as Kickback - this year’s winner - walked past us for an encore. We congratulated them and they said thanks, probably a little offended that our ovation was bigger than theirs.
“I forgot it was winter for a minute,” Luke grinned happily.
Ren looked like he just ran a mile, and he was silent. I slapped his back a couple times. “C’mon, dude, wake up! We did great!” I said. He smirked sheepishly and just nodded along.
“Guys, food!” I noticed, pointing to the back of the cafetorium. We went down the backstage stairs, avoiding Kickback’s performance.
Just as I was about to take a big bite out of a cookie, my cell phone went off. I flipped it open and answered it, walking outside just as Kickback started playing the second verse of their song.
“Hey.”
“Dude, Brendan.”
“David?”
“Yeah, um-”
“How’d you get my number?”
He burped. “I’m…magic.”
“You sound drunk off your ass.”
“No! I’m not. Seriously. Listen - Mom and Dad are at dinner right now, and they just told me to pick you up. I’m coming…like, now.”
“Alright.”
I was suspicious. I knew David did a couple illegal things – no shit! – but before it hit me, I agreed and was on my way to driving home with my 17-year-old brother who probably lied more than once over the phone.
I went into the cafetorium just as Kickback was finishing up. Luke was dancing out of politeness, and Soria had her hand in Ren’s. When the band was done, they got a decent applause and headed off the stage with the same feeling we had, the sensation of being respected. They were alright, but I think we were better. Not to toot my own horn or nothing.
“Give a round of applause to all of our acts tonight, and the winner, Kickback!” Mrs. Richardson spoke into the microphone. After some mingling and eating, we all exited out the building to get on with our Friday night lives.
“Bye,” I said to Luke, Ren, and Soria before walking to the front of the school. They said the same to me and we parted ways.
They got a ride home with Ren’s mom, which seemed like it was pretty nice of her, but in the long run it probably wouldn’t end up helping our credibility as a band.
A red pickup truck swerved near the sidewalk, headlights on. I knew it was David from the skate punk blasting from the stereo system. He pulled closer to me and I opened the door, seeing his bleached curly hair and hazy hazel eyes behind a thick fog. He smirked, oblivious to my confused expression.
“C’mon, bro!”
I followed orders and stepped up to the seat, buckling up.
And it was the stupidest thing I’d ever done.
I trotted behind all the speakers and guitars to my home - the stool. The wooden sticks slid around in my sweaty hands, and once I got a firm grip, they stuck.
Ren’s face was completely flushed, and I could see his knees wobble from the back of the stage. Soria didn’t look too scared, and neither did Luke. The velvet red curtains, pulled up to let the school know we were here, framed my vision and blocked out the blinding heat of the lights. My heart, however, pounded up in my throat like it was saying, “Come on, get started!”
I took that as a cue to begin pounding the bass drum.
After a few beats, the rest of them strummed their guitars to establish the opening of the song – “Alive.” Soria wrote it when she was in Santa Monica for the summer, and it had that real summery vibe to it. It sounded real 90’s, like I could imagine Third Eye Blind or Everclear playing it, but it was cool. I wasn’t too big on that kind of music, but it was different when I was actually playing it. The more I thought about it, the more sense it made.
“Feels like a couple years ago
Good as gold, no sign of snow - let’s go...”
Ren sang his heart out, only playing backup guitar when Soria stepped up and did a little filler. She had a big smile on her face like this was the best day of her life, and I couldn’t blame her. Luke just looked…mellow. But I was higher than the ceiling, than the stars. It just felt so cool to be up here on the stage again after two previous performances.
“And you just keep on singin’ the same old song
Over and over
And I’m still tryin’ to make it through the days
Without dyin’-”
Chorus time. I grinned so wide, my lips bled a little from being chapped in the winter air.
“I just wanna feel alive
For this one time in my life
I wanna feel important
I don’t care if it’s a lie
And there’s a buzzin’ in my brain
Says, ‘It’s getting kinda late’
But, I don’t wanna go home…”
Ren couldn’t resist a smile back at us, and I felt a little better. I don’t know why he’d get so worked up over it. Soria was proud; I could hear it in the way she strummed her guitar like she wanted it louder.
“It’s pretty cool how memories never fade
No matter the case.
Things don’t happen on their own.
Times change
People grow
Before you know it
Ya gotta go…”
I never really realized how evident it was that Soria wrote it about her move to and from Santa Monica. I had to wonder if anyone in the crowd caught it, or if even Ren or Luke did - but I doubted it. I didn’t even wanna ask about it.
During the bridge, Luke walked backward and I felt him smile at me. I couldn’t see it, but I just know when that kid is smiling. Always. I was curious at how music took him away.
“Look to the ocean and smile, smile
Let it sink in for a while, while
When you get gone, I’ll just cry, cry
But eventually, we all die, die.”
Ren closed his eyes and let his guitar go limp, just hanging by the strap around his shoulder. He clasped the mic as if it were his lifeline, lost in the music. Suddenly, the cafetorium lights seemed brighter, shining on us, the closer for the show. I knew the high I was on was soon coming to a close, but nothing good can last - I knew that, too. Like the best day ever, I made it worthwhile.
We played through the chorus like the first two times, and then added a different version of it. Because one didn’t do enough justice.
“I’m a-starin’ to the sky
Asking God if he knows why
The day’s gotta end
‘Cause I’ll be missin’ you, my friend
The clock’s just flying ‘round again
Now it’s driving me insane
And it’s time to go back home…”
The way the last line was sung gave me a warm feeling down my spine, reassuring that this feeling was in no way over with. Even when we left the stage after a good applause, Plaster Caster wasn’t over our high.
“That was awesome!” Soria shouted backstage. We were all smiling and laughing as Kickback - this year’s winner - walked past us for an encore. We congratulated them and they said thanks, probably a little offended that our ovation was bigger than theirs.
“I forgot it was winter for a minute,” Luke grinned happily.
Ren looked like he just ran a mile, and he was silent. I slapped his back a couple times. “C’mon, dude, wake up! We did great!” I said. He smirked sheepishly and just nodded along.
“Guys, food!” I noticed, pointing to the back of the cafetorium. We went down the backstage stairs, avoiding Kickback’s performance.
Just as I was about to take a big bite out of a cookie, my cell phone went off. I flipped it open and answered it, walking outside just as Kickback started playing the second verse of their song.
“Hey.”
“Dude, Brendan.”
“David?”
“Yeah, um-”
“How’d you get my number?”
He burped. “I’m…magic.”
“You sound drunk off your ass.”
“No! I’m not. Seriously. Listen - Mom and Dad are at dinner right now, and they just told me to pick you up. I’m coming…like, now.”
“Alright.”
I was suspicious. I knew David did a couple illegal things – no shit! – but before it hit me, I agreed and was on my way to driving home with my 17-year-old brother who probably lied more than once over the phone.
I went into the cafetorium just as Kickback was finishing up. Luke was dancing out of politeness, and Soria had her hand in Ren’s. When the band was done, they got a decent applause and headed off the stage with the same feeling we had, the sensation of being respected. They were alright, but I think we were better. Not to toot my own horn or nothing.
“Give a round of applause to all of our acts tonight, and the winner, Kickback!” Mrs. Richardson spoke into the microphone. After some mingling and eating, we all exited out the building to get on with our Friday night lives.
“Bye,” I said to Luke, Ren, and Soria before walking to the front of the school. They said the same to me and we parted ways.
They got a ride home with Ren’s mom, which seemed like it was pretty nice of her, but in the long run it probably wouldn’t end up helping our credibility as a band.
A red pickup truck swerved near the sidewalk, headlights on. I knew it was David from the skate punk blasting from the stereo system. He pulled closer to me and I opened the door, seeing his bleached curly hair and hazy hazel eyes behind a thick fog. He smirked, oblivious to my confused expression.
“C’mon, bro!”
I followed orders and stepped up to the seat, buckling up.
And it was the stupidest thing I’d ever done.
♠ ♠ ♠
Junk's about to get real.