Let the Flames Begin

I dodged people right and left as I quickly skated downhill through the crowded street. The shop owner was right behind me, running at full speed and hollering after me. So I’d nicked a drink on my way past...it wasn’t like I’d killed anybody. I didn’t know why he was so upset. It was only a can of coke! I took a sip as I skated, glancing back quickly to see the shop owner gaining on me. I thought I’d had an advantage, being on a skateboard and going downhill and all...but all the people cluttering the sidewalk were slowing me down considerably.

I dodged a business man who was obviously in a hurry, my guitar case connecting with his shoulder with a thud. This stopped me in my tracks and I stumbled, my skateboard flying out from under me and racing down the street on its own. The man started yelling at me as the shop owner only got closer. In the process of running into the man, I’d managed to spill my stolen coke all over the front of my shirt. I hadn’t even drunken half of it. What a waste.

Not wanting to get myself into any more trouble than I already was, I stood up quickly and readjusted my guitar case that was slung over my shoulders, across my back. I took off after my skateboard and eventually caught up with it when some punk-ass teenage kid stopped it with his foot. I called out to him to set it down for me and jumped onto it in a run as I reached it, sailing down the street even faster than I had before.

I realised that there was no way I’d out run the now two angry men after me if I kept to the sidewalk, and I jumped my skateboard out onto the street. This was not a good idea. Before, I’d been dodging people. Now, I was dodging freaking cars! Angry drivers honked their car horns at me as I got in their way and almost caused many accidents.

When I reached the end of the street I took a hard left and crashed right into someone, falling off my skateboard for the second time in the span of five minutes. I groaned and glanced up, expecting to see the reddened face of yet another person I’d pissed off.

“You here for the auditions?” The middle-aged security guy asked me.

“Uh, yeah,” I lied. The security guy held out his hand and I took it. He helped me to my feet before picking up my skateboard.

“You’re late,” he grumbled. “Go on inside. It’s the first door on your left.”

“Uh, thanks,” I mumbled, ducking inside the building. I was grateful for the quick escape; it was a God sent gift! I followed the security guard’s instructions and opened the first door on my left. I had no idea what I’d gotten myself into. I didn’t even know what the ‘auditions’ were that the guy had been talking about. I guessed he’d assumed it because of the guitar slung over my back.

I looked at all the people in the cramped mini-theatre and took a seat in one of the empty rows at the back. Almost all the seats up the front were taken. People of all ages held guitars or drumsticks in their hands. Some twitched nervously, while others talked amongst themselves.

I settled back into my seat and sat my guitar in the empty seat next to me. A few moments later, three familiar people strode out onto the small stage at the front of the small theatre. My eyes widened when I recognized them. What the hell was I doing here?

Hayley Williams, Jeremy Davis and Taylor York, the remaining members of the band Paramore, stood in the centre of the stage and addressed the room. They told us that they were excited about auditioning for two new members for the band and thanked us all for showing up.

I’d heard of Paramore, of course. Almost everybody had. They were that band with the lead singer that had bright red hair. Their song, ‘The Only Exception’ never stopped playing on the radio. Sure, they’d been successful before, but now that they’d broken through to the mainstream, Paramore had become really big.

And now it seemed by a random twist of fate, I’d landed myself an audition to be in the band. Not that I believed in that shit or anything. Hayley told us that everyone would have to perform a song on stage and that the best would go through to the next stage – an interview. I swallowed nervously and shrunk down in my chair.

What was I doing here? I was still a rookie. I wasn’t a professional guitar player. I’d never been able to afford private lessons from a fancy music instructor like the other people in the room probably had. I’d taught myself how to play when a homeless guy I knew had died and left his guitar to me.

I didn’t belong there. I wasn’t good enough for these people. I was sitting at the back of a room of fancy, well-off people in my coke-stained Beatles shirt and my torn denim cut-offs. My skate shoes were worn, with holes forming in the soles. My blonde hair was piled into a messy ponytail. I looked a wreck.

I wasn’t one of them.

I figured I should just leave. I wasn’t even meant to be there, anyway. A security guard had made an honest mistake. Things never worked out for me, so why would they now? I picked up my guitar case and held it in one hand, my skateboard slung under my other arm. I stood up and headed for the door, when a voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Hey! You! Where’re you going? You just volunteered yourself to go first.”

I turned slowly to see that it was Jeremy, the handsome bassist, who had called out to me. All the other auditionees had turned to look at me in interest. Some of them turned up their noses at me in disgust, giving me looks that could kill. They knew just as well as I did that I wasn’t good enough for this fancy place.

“I’m actually in the wrong room, so I’m just gonna - ”

“You’re not getting out of it that easy!” Hayley cut me off. “C’mon!”

“No need to be shy,” Taylor added, which I thought was ironic, considering he was the shy one and I was the obnoxiously confident one. It was like the second I walked into that room, though, all my confidence had evaporated into thin air. I could feel everybody’s eyes on me. I knew that they were judging me.

I walked down the steps in between the aisles of seats to the stage, where a stage hand was setting up a microphone and a stool. I sat down and got my guitar out of the case, slinging it across my lap. It was battered and covered in stickers. My old acoustic guitar was way past it’s good years. It didn’t compare to the fancy electric guitars I saw some of the other auditionees sporting.

“What’s your name?” Jeremy asked me. He and the other two band members were now seated in the front row.

“Ryder,” I said into the microphone, my voice filling the room.

“What’re gonna play for us?” Hayley chimed in. I looked around the room and knew that every single person there had probably picked out what they would play weeks in advance. They hadn’t just stumbled in from the street like I had.

“Uh, an original song,” I said hesitantly, plucking at the strings. “It’s called ‘Paper Hearts.’ ”

In all honesty, I’d written the song the day before. I hardly knew it. I didn’t know the names of the chords or the notes that I was playing. All I knew was that I meant every goddamn word I sang that day. And even though I wasn’t that good of a singer, I felt satisfied at the end of my short performance. For some poor bugger that’d just stumbled in from the street, it wasn’t too shabby.

At the end of my performance, no one spoke. No one clapped. Or cheered. The room was silent and everybody just stared at me. Brilliant. Was I really that freaky looking? I had just as much a chance as they did. Their eyes were judging me. I just knew they were. At that point, I honestly didn’t give two shits. I smiled and got down from the stool, sauntering out the door and onto the street.

I held my skateboard under my arm as I walked up the crowded sidewalk, the sun beating against my already tanned skin. I actually felt kinda good about myself, but I knew that I was nowhere good enough to be a part of Paramore. They were an internationally successful band, and I was just an unlucky bastard living on the streets of Franklin, taking life one day at a time. Things had never really worked out for me, so I figured that wouldn’t change any time soon.

“Hey! River! Wait!” I heard Jeremy holler up the street. I stopped and turned, watching with amusement as he crashed into people on his way to me. When he finally reached me, he was panting.

“River, why’d you just leave? You were great!” He said in between gasps.

“Actually, it’s Ryder,” I said, my voice holding a hint of annoyance.

“Right, sorry. We want you back for the interview,” Jeremy said.

“Look, to be honest, I wasn’t even supposed to be there,” I told him. “It was a total accident that I even ended up in there. You see, these guys were after me and I ran into the security guard and he - ”

“Ryder. Shut up,” Jeremy cut me off. He smiled wryly at me before continuing. “I don’t care how the hell we met. All that matters was that we did.”

I stared at him as a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.

“I’m not good enough for your band,” I said after a moment. “I’m sure there’s plenty of others that could do much better than me.”

“Just shut up and come to the interview?”

“Only if you promise to stop telling me to shut up.”

“Deal.”