Long Way Down

Chatter roared in my ears, nearly drowning out the music playing from my headphones as I made my way through the thick crowds of people. I did my best to avoid bumping into anyone; it was a hot day with the sun beating down from a clear blue sky -perfect weather for a festival- but any kind of physical contact seemed to make the heat even worse. Festivals generally had two types of atmospheres: sweaty and sticky, or wet and muddy. Neither were pleasant, but it was all apart of the experience for concert goers and bands alike. The delicious smell of sausage and other food filled the air, mingled with scents that definitely weren't so great, and energy surged in the air. It was always a great time.

But what wasn't so great about festival season was all of the promotion and publicity. I had done two interviews already today, on behalf of my band, Memento Mori, and was on my way to another one. Why Tygo had piled so many interviews that had requested me, specifically, in one day, I would never know, but I was ready to string our manager up by his toes. He knew all of us in the band quite well. He knew our quirks, and antics, personalities, and so on; Tygo had been witness and victim to some hilarious things, mainly pranks, and our guitarist, River, had labeled him as 'fearless.' If my day continued as it was, though, I was going to challenge his title. I was tired, hungry, and all I wanted to do was grab a bite to eat and sleep for the next twenty hours. It would get better, no doubt, but I was being impatient. After the travel here, and then all the chaos in between, I wasn't the only one whose nerves were a tad frayed.

Thankfully, after this interview, the rest of the day was mine to do with as I pleased, and I fully intended on getting a funnel cake and finding a quiet place with air conditioning.

Finding the tent that I was supposed to be in, I stepped inside, not bothering to pull my sunglasses from my eyes. Immediately, I was greeted by the person who'd be conducting the interview. What had Tygo said his name was?

"Hello, Jessii, my name is Petyr."

"Hi, Petyr," I replied amiably, managing a small smile as we both sat down. "How are you?"

"I am good. Very sweaty, but good." He let out a laugh, however, it seemed a bit forced and damn near awkward. Standing at roughly six foot, Petyr had shoulder length blonde hair, and judging by the jacket tied around his waist and lack of a drink, I'd say he was relatively new to the European festival scene. With grey eyes and a pretty smile, he couldn't have been too much older than me. Even after four years of being with Memento Mori, I found it was all too easy to be overwhelmed by the people around you.

For that, I'd cut the kid some slack; he really didn't need someone who was gonna be an ass just because they'd had a long, tiring day.

"Make sure to drink plenty of water; heat exhaustion sets in quite quick out here," I replied. At that, Petyr smiled and some of his nervousness seemed to go away.

"I will be sure to remember that," he laughed as the camera man set up. Once he was, Petyr turned to the camera and gave a short, surprisingly smooth introduction.

"I am here with Jessii Janssen, lead vocalist and guitarist of the Netherlands-based band Memento Mori." As he finished, he turned to me.

"So, Jess, how has the first day of festival season been?"

"Definitely long," I started. "We're all quite tired. It was a long trip here, but now that we've arrived, there's an excitement that's settled in. We want sleep, but we also want to be out and enjoy the atmosphere, catch a few great shows and see some of the bands we like."

"It sounds like you guys are very happy to be here. I'm sure by now, touring and playing places like this maybe seems kind of routine, but what about your first shows with Memento Mori? How were those," Petyr questioned, and I couldn't help but smile at the question. It was one of my favorites.

"Honestly, I don't think touring will ever become 'routine'; there's always something new and fun, especially when it comes to our band because we're... a bunch of lunatics, but there are some things that become natural. Like nerves, I guess. We don't really get nervous so much anymore, before playing shows. It's a mix between adrenaline and anxiousness. Our first shows together, though..." I trailed off a moment, trying to think of an answer that was a bit different from one I had given before.

"I remember our very first show, I threw up backstage, and I was so pale, almost to the point where the guy in charge of the venue was about to keep me from going on. He was like "you're so fucking pale, you look like you're gonna pass out!" And our bass player-" I paused, laughing as I thought back to that night, nearly five years ago. "Our bass player, Oblivion, as cool and calm as ever, just goes 'she's always pale, dumbass. If she passes out, it's gonna be from hyperventilating in happiness!'," I finished, grinning. Petyr and the camera man both let out a laugh, but the interviewer didn't miss a beat as he replied, "haven't you said that Oblivion had to calm you down a couple of times during that first show?"

"Yes, he did. For me, that first show was like stepping from reality, into a dream; one I had been slowly, very painfully working towards since I was young. I definitely lost control of my feelings more than once, in those moments that I remembered that I wasn't dreaming and that it was all real."

"You said you've been working towards the creation of Memento Mori since you were young. How old were you when you decided that you'd wanted to become a professional musician?" Petyr asked with a smile, now fully at ease. Leaning back into my seat, I ran a hand through my long black hair -hair that I should have tied back, given the heat. I was glad Petyr was so engaging; some interviews could be so stiff. He was friendly, too, which I also appreciated.

"Well, when it comes to being a professional musician, that was something I wanted since I was a little girl. I've always had an ear for music, and I was incredibly creative and imaginative. My mother didn't know what to do with me, so she put me in choir. I was really sold, then, but I guess they just expected me to grow out of it. I never did. That want actually only grew every time the choir I was with did a performance. Somewhere along those years, I got introduced to bands like Metallica and I got really into heavy metal, but it wasn't until my friend Mark Jansen from the band Epica-" I paused in my torrent of words, smiling absentmindedly as memories played through my mind. "It wasn't until he took me to a concert when I was sixteen that I really decided that playing heavy metal music was what I wanted to do. I picked up guitar in that time, too. That was a..." I trailed off, trying to keep my face straight as other, less pleasant memories came to me.

"Why would you want to play guitar? You will never make a life from playing your stupid music!"

"That was a much more strenuous learning process "

"Yeah," Petyr started. "I can imagine! It takes a lot of practice." You have no idea, I thought to myself. The tips of my fingers were permanently scarred with little lines from cuts caused by the strings; I could never play long enough, or often enough for my fingers to really callous, so it been painful to learn, to say the very least.

"You're what, twenty something now?" I glanced over at Petyr as his voice pulled me from my thoughts. I'd only caught part of the question.

"I'm twenty six, now," I replied, trying my best to keep the uncertainty out of my voice.

"So, how long have you and Mark been friends?"

"We've been friends for..." I trailed off, trying to count up the years in my head without the use of my fingers. It was such simple math, but I had always been horrible at the subject.

"It's been about eleven years," I answered finally.

"Oh, wow," Petyr replied, looking impressed. "You guys have a lot of history." I couldn't help the smile that came to my face at his choice of words. History was exactly what we had. Mark and I had our friendship, and then we had the history; we had all the bullshit disapproval, separation, pain. We had been through so much together.

"Yes, we have a history," I paused for a moment as my mind started to wander back through the years.

"We have a very long history."