transferred to our band and that’s what we’ve called ourselves ever since.
Somehow Chet and I had managed to make it to senior year. We were both a year behind where we should be, but we were still there. I wanted to quit, but staying in school was another promise my mom had managed to pull out of me with her dying breaths. So come hell or high water, I was at school every day. Whether or not I went to class was a completely different story.
Later that night, we practiced an extra hour at Finn’s house. We were three days away from our gig at The Pit and we’d added a new song to the mix. Mostly, we covered songs to get the crowd going, but every now and again we’d throw in an original track.
My fingers ached from playing the guitar so hard for so long. I had to admit we sounded badass. Chet was on the drums and Tiny could play a bass guitar like his life depended on it, but it was Finn who ran the show. He was one hell of a front man and our name was slowly spreading.
When I finally stumbled into my house that night, Dad was already in bed. I fell into a fitful sleep while the neighbors cussed each other in Spanish and the interstate traffic played its familiar lullaby.
After that, the week flew by in a haze of getting high and playing in Finn’s garage. It wasn’t long until we were setting up for our Friday night Pit show. The stage was small, but it was our favorite place to play. The crowd was wild and a lot of the people came out just for us.
The Pit couldn’t have been named more perfectly. It was a large, concrete, underground space. It looked like a vandalized parking garage with a bar, a stage, and a bathroom. The owner allowed graffiti as long as it didn’t look like shit, so the concrete walls were covered in large, colorful pieces of art and jagged words. There was even a special spot on the far wall with our band’s name in red and black.
After we set up and the horde came rolling in, we played our asses off. The crowd went wild after my guitar solo as Finn belted out a Chevelle song. Tiny, who was at least three hundred pounds, hit the room hard with his bass playing. I looked back at Chet who was playing the drums. He was so high his eyes were thin slits on his face. He nodded at me with a smile, tossed his drumstick in the air, and then brought it down hard. It was a damn good night.
After an hour of playing, we took a break.
“Watch my strings,” I said to Finn as I set down my guitar by his mic.
I drank more when I played and I was going to spill over if I didn’t take a piss. I cut across the crowded space as the DJ took over and blasted loud techno music. The place lit up in laser lights while the dance floor crawled with dancers that jumped up and down, wigged out of their minds.
“You sounded good up there, Zeke,” some random chick said as I walked by.
She reached out and boldly grabbed my ass. This was a normal thing for me and nothing caught me off guard with the girls at The Pit. I turned and was met by a hot redhead with cleavage spilling out of a too-small top. Most of the redheads I’d had were wildcats under the covers, so I was definitely down if she wanted to play later. I leaned in to make sure she could hear me over the loud music.
“Nice tits.” I grinned down at her as I ran a finger across her bulging cleavage. There was a jagged tattoo just under her lacy bra line that I wanted to have a look at. “Meet me beside the stage later.”
I wasn’t asking. I was telling. My blunt nature was something I was known for and that suited me just fine. Dishonesty wasn’t my thing and I was born without a filter around my brain. Anything that crossed my mind came out of my mouth, whether it was hurtful or not. The no-filter thing initiated some pretty bad fights in my life. It also didn’t help that I had no idea how to bite my tongue.
I pushed on the black door to the bathroom. There were