Marius
The stomping is starting.
That usually means we’re about 10 minutes past the concert start time.
The audience is getting restless and they want us to know it.
Stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp.
Rock Chamber Boys. Rock Chamber Boys. Rock Chamber Boys.
The chanting starts. Over and over.
Ten, fifteen thousand voices in unison.
It always amazes me how crowds can organize themselves into one unit.
One hungry-for-music blood unit.
“How long?” Sebastian is pacing. It’s his thing. He’s usually the one who starts our concerts. Since everyone else is too chicken shit to do it. Once in a while he might be able to convince Jez to, but then it’s back to him again for the next ten shows. As long as it isn’t me, I don’t care which one of them does it.
Dennis goes over and puts a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him. “Sit down! Another few minutes, there’s some problem with the spotlight.”
“Great. Next time maybe don’t buy it off eBay.” Seb grumbles and continues to pace.
“Shut up. And sit down and breathe, for fuck’s sake. It’s like you haven’t done this a thousand times before,” Jez growls at him, barely looking up from his phone.
“Want to meditate with me?” I ask Seb from my spot on the floor, legs folded under me.
“About as much as I want a mouthful of rat droppings.”
“I can’t tell – is that a yes or a no?”
Jez throws an empty water bottle at me. “Leave him alone, you know how he gets.”
“Rock chamber boys! Rock chamber boys!” Brad chants along, waving his arms over his head. He’s probably had a bit to drink, so he’s not nervous in the slightest.
Then I realize there’s still one person missing. “Where’s Anca?”
“She’s in her own dressing room,” Dennis tells me as he listens in on the stage crew intercom.
“Maybe someone should call her?”
“She’s not playing for another 20 minutes, let her settle down,” Jez tells me, and there’s something weird in his voice, something strained, like he’s hiding something, something I’ve never heard before.
It’s not right she’s on her own, she should be a part of all this. “I’m just going to go let her know she can warm up in our green room with us, saves being lonely.”
“Let her be, dude. Trust me. She knows. She wants to be alone.” Jez blocks me as I get up to walk to the door.
He stares me down and I back down. “Okay. If you say so.”
Jez nods. “Yeah. It’s her thing. Hailey will take care of Anca, if there’s something she needs.”
“Guys, you’re on!” Dennis says, jumping to his feet. He looks so wired I wonder if I touched him, would his head spin right off. His mouth is chewing a giant ball of gum so large I’m almost afraid he’ll choke on it. But he’s always like this before a big show.
We file out of the greenroom and up the stairs.
The stomping is louder now that it’s just above our heads. I can see dust falling from the ceiling and it amuses me to imagine tens of thousands of people falling through while they dance, a self-made mosh pit.
The crew helps us up onto the platform backstage.
My heart is racing.
My mouth is dry.
I consider making a run for it.
And then Sebastian catches my eye and his face says it all.
Let’s. Fucking. Do. This.
We reach in and grab each others’ hands, crossing our arms and starting our pre-concert ritual. Just the four of us. A moment to remember where it all began.
The crowd suddenly breaks into a roar as all the lights are killed and we know. It’s time.
The entire venue is pitch black and we make our way on stage, slowly, quietly, just hoping we don’t trip on something.
I hear Jez and Sebastian find their chairs in the dark.
I position my viola and pick up my bow.
And now, I just wait.
We change our set list almost every night depending on how we’re feeling a few hours from the concert. So, they never know what’s coming. But it always starts the same.
Cleansing their senses palette with the pitch black canvas. Before the musical deluge.
“And a one, two, three,” I can just make out Sebastian whisper to himself under his breath.
And it starts.
One brilliant note to wash over the crowd and call their attention. It rings out loud, unwavering, pure. It primes us all for the sounds to come.
Tonight, we’re starting with a new piece, we call it When Valkyries Cry. It’s our new mash up of Ride of the Valkyries and Prince’s When Doves Cry.
It’s an epic piece that is going to bring the house down.
And it starts with that one note.
Then the lights blast into life, drenching us all in a cleansing white. Before we surrender to the music.
Let’s fucking do this.
Anca
2 years ago
I check the clock, two hours until curtain’s up.
The knock on the door stops me from falling back onto the bathroom floor.
“Hey, Anca! You okay in there?”
It takes every ounce of my energy to answer, “Er, yeah. I’m good. Just… when am I going to learn, cafeteria tacos bad.”
There’s a chuckle on the other side of the door and I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to hear footsteps fading away.
It’s quiet again, and I let my body slide back down, resting my face on the cool bathroom tile.
I can’t do this.
Yes, you can. My own voice tells me. But it’s not as strong.
But now his voice is in my head, “You’re not ready, my angela. You are too weak. Only I really understand your gift, and you cannot waste it for those who don’t deserve it.”
I drag myself up, trying to splash some water onto my face.
I can do this. I tell myself again.
I open the door. And he is there.
“Anca. My darling.” He reaches out to me, and I’m too weak to step away.
His cool fingers brush the damp hair from my forehead and he pulls me close, dropping a kiss onto the top of my head.
“What did I tell you? See? Why are you putting yourself through this? You can’t do it.”
“Ye… yes I can.”
“Shhhhh,” he presses his finger against my lips. “Look at you, you can barely stand. You can’t perform tonight. They will laugh at you. Why put yourself though that?”
He’s right. I’m not good enough.
And he knows I know.
I let him lead me to the harp and sits me down on the stool.
“Imagine. Imagine them laughing. Is that what you really want?”