Strung Tight (The Road To Rocktoberfest #1) - Ann Lister Page 0,42

my dreams with a career in music and was on the right path. I doubted they’d see what I’d accomplished as a victory though, and if I also told them about Dallas, all they’d do is focus on that relationship and not any of the accolades we might’ve gotten from the show.

I rolled over onto my side and did my best to shrug off the sadness I always felt when I thought about my parents. Good or bad, I’d been on my own since I was eighteen, surviving by doing odd jobs and busting my ass to improve our music. I was fucking proud of what I’d managed to eek out with no help or input from them, but I needed to accept the fact that they’d never see me as the person I really was. I would always be the child who chose not to go to college and take a high-paying job in the corporate world. That was their dream for me—not the one I had for myself, and I’d felt nothing when I shattered their idealistic view of my future after I’d stormed out of the house for the last time.

Life was short and I had to live it the way it was meant for me. Musical notes and lyrics flowed through my veins like lifeblood and sustained me the same way as oxygen. I didn’t so much as choose writing music for my future—it chose me, and I was one hundred percent okay with that.

Chapter Fourteen

The success of Chaos’s performance at the Apex had us all riding a wave of adrenaline that made us feel like iconic rock stars. None of us could wipe the smiles off our faces, and our swagger was as big as our egos, although I didn’t think any of us took it too seriously. We were all kind of shocked by the way social media blew up with posts about our show. Comments like: “Who was that new band we saw at the Apex?” was being asked a lot. We knew as good as that gig had been that it was a drop in the bucket and smalltime compared to the size and importance of Rocktoberfest.

The guys and I also knew our careers wouldn’t be made off the success of one show but from many great performances. We had to stay on course and keep the momentum going for all we were worth, which meant no letting up on the gas anytime soon. We had to be all in if Chaos was going to get anywhere near the top of this game.

Our behavior was done in the name of fun and not from arrogance. We were simply having a blast living in this incredible moment. The high from these temporary aftereffects also seemed to have distracted Mike from bringing up anything about Dallas. It was either that, or maybe he hadn’t heard or noticed that he was in my room.

The best bit of news we’d gotten after the Apex gig was that Dagger had arranged for his husband, Ryan, to interview us for the magazine in which he occasionally wrote freelance articles, usually about up and coming bands like Chaos. Ryan and Dagger were meeting us at the rehearsal studio this afternoon to ask us a bunch of questions. It sounded easy enough to me, but I was still nervous. Every interview or sound bite that made it onto the internet remained there. Forever. Anytime I had to go on record—where somehow my words might matter—scared me.

It was my voice that would be heard most often being the frontman for the band. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that aspect of the job, but I was hoping to grow into the role. The more interviews I did, the more comfortable I’d become … or some shit like that.

It’d been ingrained in me from youth that whatever I said had no real value. I grew up thinking my voice didn’t mean much and certainly no one cared what I had to say, which made this interview with Ryan Pierce an effort for me to step out of my comfort zone. I knew it was time for the band to stretch our wings, though, and Dagger sure as hell was nudging us along this path. If he believed in us, then we sure as fuck should believe in ourselves.

By the time we arrived at the studio, Ryan already had an area near the stage set up with chairs for the interview.