Status: Completed
Someone out There Loves You
Sound Effects And Overdramatics.
Gerard, Brett, and I sat and talked for the next few hours. Thankfully the entire Clayah…thing, had faded to the farthest back recesses of my brain. Rush and Ruin played for the next half hour onstage, and when they walked off with thank you’s and a less than enthusiastic applause from the rest of the crowd, Gerard and I shared a look. We knew that feeling. We clapped the loudest.
“I’m sure you guys must be pretty tired,” Brett said, “But I’m begging you guys to stick around for a few hours. I’ve missed you two, and I’ll get awful lonesome. Plus,” he nodded his head toward the bar. “That drag queen over there has been eyeing me ever since I walked in.”
Gerard and I turned, and I clapped my hand over my mouth after I gave a small snort to stifle my laughter. Gerard turned back around with his eyes closed tight, a huge smile on his face, and obviously holding his breath.
I had no problem with drag queens. But the fact that Brett absolutely did not swing that way (that way as in being attracted to one in a tight fitting dress, stripper heels, red lipstick, and bright green eyeshadow) made the situation HIGHLY amusing.
“Fuck you both,” Brett said, narrowing his eyes at us.
“Well, Mikey and I both just had coffee, and I personally don’t mind sticking around,” Gerard said. He looked at me. “What are you up for?”
I shrugged. It was always fun to hear new music. Plus, I liked this band. It was good to see something fresh and impressive from kids their age. It fascinated me. And I could see in all their eyes that they loved playing music. They enjoyed the mellow set, but they just wanted to break out and let it rip. This I had to see.
“Absolutely,” I said. “We’re staying.”
The next few hours consisted of small and random talk. With, of course, some chat about Rush and Ruin.
“Honestly I know little about them,” Brett said, “Except from what I’ve heard, of course.”
“I’ve heard a couple of their songs,” Gerard said. I raised my eyebrows at him. “Mollers,” he answered my facial questioning. I nodded. Much more sense made. “Only two, though. An Iron Maiden cover--”
“Loved that,” Brett agreed.
“--And another that I don’t know the name of but I liked.”
“How old are those kids, anyways?” I asked.
“Three out of five are still in high school,” Brett said. I gave a low whistle.
Gerard and Brett talked about the band, and I sat half listening and half gazing around. I hadn’t been to the House of Blues in a while, so I soaked up all the sights and sounds. As I scanned around the room, I felt eyes on me. A waitress stood about three tables away, clearing plates, her eyes lingering on our little dinner party. When she caught me looking back, she let her eyes snap away quickly.
Weird.
I kept looking around, and I noticed a bunch of teenagers start to push through the doors and up toward the stage. My watch told me it was about eight thirty. It was Friday, but still.
Brett noticed me looking at the kids coming through the door. “Well, looks like their real crowd is here.”
“Clayah!” I turned to see Drew rushing up to me as I hung my apron in the kitchen.
“Drew!” I yelled back in a mocking tone, grinning.
She didn’t even seem to notice my joke. As she came closer, I saw her looking rather frazzled. She was twisting her long, dark brown hair around her fingers, her face flushed, her blue eyes buzzing with excitement.
“Uh, you okay?” I asked. Drew could get a little manic before shows, but this was even trippy for her.
Drew gripped me by the shoulders and I pulled my face back. She was starting to freak me out.
“If I tell you something, will you promise not to laugh at me or think I’m crazy?”
“No promises on that second part, you started on the wrong foot and aren’t exactly walking in a straight line right now.” She let go of my shoulders and I smoothed out my tshirt. “Better. Now what’s up?”
“What would you say if I told you I just saw Mikey Way sitting in the café?”
“First, I would say you rhymed. Second I would say get off the hallucinogens.”
“Clayah, I’m serious!” she pleaded.
“And that’s what frightens me,” I smiled. “C’mon, let’s just get backstage and set up.” I walked off. But as she followed, Drew never gave up.
“I’m not kidding though! I really think it was him!”
“Drew, I think you’re just overexcited. Besides, what the hell would Mikey Way be doing, alone, in the House of Blues?”
“He wasn’t alone! He was with two other guys.”
“Whatever you say, Drew.”
She grabbed my wrist and tugged me in the opposite direction of the stage, back towards the café.
“You do realize we’re on in less than a half hour, right?” I said, trying to pull myself away. Drew ignored me.
“Clayah Shier, I am going to prove to you that I saw--”
Drew turned the corner and slammed right into Yoda.
“Girls! The stage is that way!” he said, irritated.
Saved by the manager.
Some of the kids had given me and Gerard sideways glances that lasted a little too long, so we moved to the very back of the floor to wait for the show. For a suburban band there was quite a turnout-- some kids even had homemade tshirts. Most of them sported the same logo; a railroad crossing sign, yellow with a big black X and black R’s on either side, but there was an & symbol where the X intersected. Cool logo, really.
As the lights dimmed, a buzz of anticipation rose. I didn’t even know the band and I felt excited to see them.
Gerard and I shared a look, and I knew he felt the same way.
The intro came, and the curtain rose, and the lights hit the band--
And the place when fucking NUTS.
Our crowd of three had to jog a few steps backward to avoid being sucked in to the moshing mania. I knew our mosh pit could get pretty insane, but this was the closest call I’d ever seen.
“Holy FUCK,” Gerard yelled. “Dude, who are these kids?” He pointed to the stage.
“Give me a minute to run out to my car and grab my Blackberry, then I can tell you exactly,” Brett grinned.
We let him go, and listened to the screaming kids and the music. By the time Brett was back, the had to go into a cover.
“Okay, so you all know that we are required to play a couple covers so we can play here, right?” the lead singer said. The crowd booed. “Be nice, be nice,” she laughed. “But I do think any fan of ours is a fan of…. THE USED.” The place went nuts again.
“It’s like these kids have been waiting to get signed to Reprise,” Gerard laughed, elbowing Brett.
The whole crowd sang along (including the three of us) as the singer started:
He wear his hear safety-pinned to his backpack
His backpack is all that he knows.
Shot down by strangers whose glances can cripple
The heart and devour the soul.
Before jumping into the chorus, the lead singer shocked us all by letting out a scream. A girl, letting out that kind of scream. That was something you never saw.
But as the song went on, there came more that you never saw.
The singer dropped to her knees, looking right at the crowd. I noticed their rhythm guitarist fade into the shadows for a moment, before slowly coming up behind the singer as she sang to the crowd.
All he knows
If he can't relieve it it grows
and so it goes
he crawls like a worm…
She looked up at the guitarist, who raised his instrument, it’s head down toward her.
Crawls like a warm from a bird.
The guitar stabbed her.
My jaw dropped. Their lead guitarist took over the screaming part as the singer was stabbed. Blood gushed and covered the face of the other guitarist. The lead held the final note after the screams, and the band stopped. The place still held a buzz, staring. The crowd seemed excited. Brett watched in wonder while Gerard and I looked at each other, reacting the same way.
What the FUCK??
A couple moments went by, and the singer started to move. She stood slowly, her hand over a bloody area of her chest. She wobbled a bit as she got to her feet, the took a couple steps forward to the very edge of the stage. She sang breathlessly:
Out of his mind away
pushes him whispering
must have been out of his mind…
When the chorus kicked in, the singer dropped her hand from her chest, and blood gushed out into the audience. It lasted for a few lines, then she resumed her normal stage act until the end of the song. The audience screamed in approval.
“That,” Brett said, awed, “Was the best stage stunt I’ve ever seen.”
“Seriously, tell us who these kids are,” Gerard said.
Brett pulled out his Blackberry and hit a few buttons. “Okay. Their drummer is Drew Bryant, she’s 18. Bassist is Levi Pettington, 19. Rhythm guitarist is Blake Austin, also 19. Lead guitarist Mark Demia, 17. And their lead singer… wow, she’s only 14, holy shit. Oh, her name’s Clayah Shier.”
“Wait, say her name again?” I said, my heart frozen in place.
“Clayah Shier,” Brett yelled a little louder. “Why?”
Gerard looked at me. “Oh my God.”
“I’m sure you guys must be pretty tired,” Brett said, “But I’m begging you guys to stick around for a few hours. I’ve missed you two, and I’ll get awful lonesome. Plus,” he nodded his head toward the bar. “That drag queen over there has been eyeing me ever since I walked in.”
Gerard and I turned, and I clapped my hand over my mouth after I gave a small snort to stifle my laughter. Gerard turned back around with his eyes closed tight, a huge smile on his face, and obviously holding his breath.
I had no problem with drag queens. But the fact that Brett absolutely did not swing that way (that way as in being attracted to one in a tight fitting dress, stripper heels, red lipstick, and bright green eyeshadow) made the situation HIGHLY amusing.
“Fuck you both,” Brett said, narrowing his eyes at us.
“Well, Mikey and I both just had coffee, and I personally don’t mind sticking around,” Gerard said. He looked at me. “What are you up for?”
I shrugged. It was always fun to hear new music. Plus, I liked this band. It was good to see something fresh and impressive from kids their age. It fascinated me. And I could see in all their eyes that they loved playing music. They enjoyed the mellow set, but they just wanted to break out and let it rip. This I had to see.
“Absolutely,” I said. “We’re staying.”
The next few hours consisted of small and random talk. With, of course, some chat about Rush and Ruin.
“Honestly I know little about them,” Brett said, “Except from what I’ve heard, of course.”
“I’ve heard a couple of their songs,” Gerard said. I raised my eyebrows at him. “Mollers,” he answered my facial questioning. I nodded. Much more sense made. “Only two, though. An Iron Maiden cover--”
“Loved that,” Brett agreed.
“--And another that I don’t know the name of but I liked.”
“How old are those kids, anyways?” I asked.
“Three out of five are still in high school,” Brett said. I gave a low whistle.
Gerard and Brett talked about the band, and I sat half listening and half gazing around. I hadn’t been to the House of Blues in a while, so I soaked up all the sights and sounds. As I scanned around the room, I felt eyes on me. A waitress stood about three tables away, clearing plates, her eyes lingering on our little dinner party. When she caught me looking back, she let her eyes snap away quickly.
Weird.
I kept looking around, and I noticed a bunch of teenagers start to push through the doors and up toward the stage. My watch told me it was about eight thirty. It was Friday, but still.
Brett noticed me looking at the kids coming through the door. “Well, looks like their real crowd is here.”
“Clayah!” I turned to see Drew rushing up to me as I hung my apron in the kitchen.
“Drew!” I yelled back in a mocking tone, grinning.
She didn’t even seem to notice my joke. As she came closer, I saw her looking rather frazzled. She was twisting her long, dark brown hair around her fingers, her face flushed, her blue eyes buzzing with excitement.
“Uh, you okay?” I asked. Drew could get a little manic before shows, but this was even trippy for her.
Drew gripped me by the shoulders and I pulled my face back. She was starting to freak me out.
“If I tell you something, will you promise not to laugh at me or think I’m crazy?”
“No promises on that second part, you started on the wrong foot and aren’t exactly walking in a straight line right now.” She let go of my shoulders and I smoothed out my tshirt. “Better. Now what’s up?”
“What would you say if I told you I just saw Mikey Way sitting in the café?”
“First, I would say you rhymed. Second I would say get off the hallucinogens.”
“Clayah, I’m serious!” she pleaded.
“And that’s what frightens me,” I smiled. “C’mon, let’s just get backstage and set up.” I walked off. But as she followed, Drew never gave up.
“I’m not kidding though! I really think it was him!”
“Drew, I think you’re just overexcited. Besides, what the hell would Mikey Way be doing, alone, in the House of Blues?”
“He wasn’t alone! He was with two other guys.”
“Whatever you say, Drew.”
She grabbed my wrist and tugged me in the opposite direction of the stage, back towards the café.
“You do realize we’re on in less than a half hour, right?” I said, trying to pull myself away. Drew ignored me.
“Clayah Shier, I am going to prove to you that I saw--”
Drew turned the corner and slammed right into Yoda.
“Girls! The stage is that way!” he said, irritated.
Saved by the manager.
Some of the kids had given me and Gerard sideways glances that lasted a little too long, so we moved to the very back of the floor to wait for the show. For a suburban band there was quite a turnout-- some kids even had homemade tshirts. Most of them sported the same logo; a railroad crossing sign, yellow with a big black X and black R’s on either side, but there was an & symbol where the X intersected. Cool logo, really.
As the lights dimmed, a buzz of anticipation rose. I didn’t even know the band and I felt excited to see them.
Gerard and I shared a look, and I knew he felt the same way.
The intro came, and the curtain rose, and the lights hit the band--
And the place when fucking NUTS.
Our crowd of three had to jog a few steps backward to avoid being sucked in to the moshing mania. I knew our mosh pit could get pretty insane, but this was the closest call I’d ever seen.
“Holy FUCK,” Gerard yelled. “Dude, who are these kids?” He pointed to the stage.
“Give me a minute to run out to my car and grab my Blackberry, then I can tell you exactly,” Brett grinned.
We let him go, and listened to the screaming kids and the music. By the time Brett was back, the had to go into a cover.
“Okay, so you all know that we are required to play a couple covers so we can play here, right?” the lead singer said. The crowd booed. “Be nice, be nice,” she laughed. “But I do think any fan of ours is a fan of…. THE USED.” The place went nuts again.
“It’s like these kids have been waiting to get signed to Reprise,” Gerard laughed, elbowing Brett.
The whole crowd sang along (including the three of us) as the singer started:
He wear his hear safety-pinned to his backpack
His backpack is all that he knows.
Shot down by strangers whose glances can cripple
The heart and devour the soul.
Before jumping into the chorus, the lead singer shocked us all by letting out a scream. A girl, letting out that kind of scream. That was something you never saw.
But as the song went on, there came more that you never saw.
The singer dropped to her knees, looking right at the crowd. I noticed their rhythm guitarist fade into the shadows for a moment, before slowly coming up behind the singer as she sang to the crowd.
All he knows
If he can't relieve it it grows
and so it goes
he crawls like a worm…
She looked up at the guitarist, who raised his instrument, it’s head down toward her.
Crawls like a warm from a bird.
The guitar stabbed her.
My jaw dropped. Their lead guitarist took over the screaming part as the singer was stabbed. Blood gushed and covered the face of the other guitarist. The lead held the final note after the screams, and the band stopped. The place still held a buzz, staring. The crowd seemed excited. Brett watched in wonder while Gerard and I looked at each other, reacting the same way.
What the FUCK??
A couple moments went by, and the singer started to move. She stood slowly, her hand over a bloody area of her chest. She wobbled a bit as she got to her feet, the took a couple steps forward to the very edge of the stage. She sang breathlessly:
Out of his mind away
pushes him whispering
must have been out of his mind…
When the chorus kicked in, the singer dropped her hand from her chest, and blood gushed out into the audience. It lasted for a few lines, then she resumed her normal stage act until the end of the song. The audience screamed in approval.
“That,” Brett said, awed, “Was the best stage stunt I’ve ever seen.”
“Seriously, tell us who these kids are,” Gerard said.
Brett pulled out his Blackberry and hit a few buttons. “Okay. Their drummer is Drew Bryant, she’s 18. Bassist is Levi Pettington, 19. Rhythm guitarist is Blake Austin, also 19. Lead guitarist Mark Demia, 17. And their lead singer… wow, she’s only 14, holy shit. Oh, her name’s Clayah Shier.”
“Wait, say her name again?” I said, my heart frozen in place.
“Clayah Shier,” Brett yelled a little louder. “Why?”
Gerard looked at me. “Oh my God.”