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Out of all of the songs I had learned, the final piece on the list left more room for creativity on my part. It was written with a clear second guitar in mind, and while Craig could play well, he was a definite one-trick pony when it came to writing metal. Instead of the fast, speed-matching tempo along with the chorus that Craig had written, I slowed my part down to half-speed. The melody rang clearer through this section when I played it at half-speed, and it sounded great alongside Daniel’s bassline. The change drew an odd look from Craig, but we kept on playing.
I found myself having to play a guessing game of who would speed up or slow down during the following few sections of the song. Paul would get excited and begin a new section way too fast, or Craig would just drop out of timing altogether and not even notice, relying on the rest of us to match him. But for the most part, we sounded like we knew what we were doing.NôvelDrama.Org © content.
My solo came up finally, and I was fighting a grin as the previous riff was coming to an end, the signally changes wringing loudly in my ears. Then I glanced over to Amanda, sitting on the stool as she studied the band intently. Studied me intently. Our eyes met, and she quickly glanced away.
My hands reacted before my brain could register, and my solo kicked off. The first few notes sounded a bit flat, but I took control of myself and focused on one thing and one thing alone.
Showing the fuck off for my gorgeous sister.
There was no greater motivator for any metalhead playing in a band than the ability to show off how cool he is and how well he can play for a pretty girl. It was a primary reason most guys played in a band, to begin with. Heads filled with stories from the ’80s and the ’90s about bands playing to sold-out shows. Girls throwing themselves at the band members and partying all night until you woke up with no memory of what you’d done and two naked women in your bed. That was until you got so shitfaced you tried to snort a line of ants.
I knew there wouldn’t be any groupie lining up for me at my first show, nor would there be free booze or drugs–not that I was interested in drugs–but I already had the love and affection of three gorgeous women that I would definitely perform for. And if that performance was appealing to the fourth of my household.
Well… that was just a bonus.
“Why did you change the song?” Craig asked as soon as the song ended. “I gave you the music and tabs to learn.”
“I just wanted to add my own flare to it,” I shrugged, not wanting to outright tell Craig that I thought his writing sucked.
“Well… that’s not how the song goes,” Craig replied, placing his guitar down.
“I liked it,” Daniel said, taking a swig from a bottle of water.
“Well, good thing you’re just the bass player,” Paul scoffed.
“How about we trial it during rehearsal and see how we feel about it next week,” Daniel said, ignoring Paul’s comment.
“Come on, Craig. Just give it a chance,” Amanda said, taking Craig’s hand but glancing towards me before lowering her eyes.
“Yeah, alright, we’ll keep it in the song until next rehearsal and vote on it,” Craig said as if it was his idea all along. “Let’s run through it again.”
We rehearsed the set-list another four times before Craig started losing focus and started playing with his phone more, although Daniel was the one to call it quits as if he needed to be somewhere. Craig acted like he wanted to keep playing, but he disappeared inside almost as soon as his guitar was in its case.
“He does this all the time,” Daniel said as I helped him load his gear into the grey station he drove. “I think he likes the idea of being in a band more than actually doing anything with the band. He loses interest quickly and usually leaves his shit to be packed up last.”
“Why do you play with him then?” I asked, picking up the case for his spare instrument. Daniel brought a backup where he went.
“Not many bands around looking for a bassist,” he shrugged.
“I find that hard to believe. A decent bassist back home would play for three or four bands,” I said. “And you’re more than just decent.”
“Thanks,” Daniel chuckled. “Unfortunately, it isn’t like that here. You see, everyone’s friend plays guitar, and with so many guitarists, a lot of them switch to bass just to get a spot in a band. Just ask your sister. Emily is one of the most talented bassists I know, and she struggles to find people to play with. Most guys just offer her a spot so they can try to get in her pants.”
“I do remember her mentioning something about this,” I said softly.
“I feel sorry for her. She is a good kid and deserves a real shot at what she loves. Unfortunately, most of the guys in the band scene are just assholes with instruments,” Daniel said, then nodded over his shoulder to Paul, who was struggling to loosen a piece of his kit. “Case in point.”
We laughed softly but cut it off when Amanda came over. Paul was a dick, but he was also Craig’s brother, and as unhappy as she seemed to be with the Fabio clone, he was her boyfriend.
“I’ll give you a hand packing up, and then we gotta go,” Amanda said.
“No problem. You all good, man?” I asked Daniel.
“I got this,” Daniel nodded. “It was a pleasure jamming with you, man. You sounded great.”
“Thanks,” I said, giving Daniel a bro-like fist bump.
“You two seemed to be getting along,” Amanda said when I wheeled the heavy cab over to her car.
“Yeah. But something doesn’t sit right with me,” I said.
“What’s that?” Amanda asked with a concerned look.
“How the hell did you end up with Craig with Daniel around,” I laughed. “He is such a nice guy and actually looks whoever he is speaking to.”
“Don’t you start too,” Amanda sighed. “I get enough shit from the others at home. I don’t need it from you too.”
“I was only playing,” I grinned. “Consider me officially on your side when it comes to this topic, and I’ll even tell the others to back off.”
“I guess you’d have a better chance of making them listen to you than I would these days,” Amanda smirked, lifting the guitar case to slide into the back of her car.
“I can be very persuasive,” I said, resting my hand on the small of her back softly as she straightened. Amanda’s body stiffened, but then I felt her lean into my touch.
“What are you doing,” Amanda asked, her voice so soft I almost didn’t hear her.
“Nothing at all,” I said, sliding my thumb back and forth just a touch. Her butt was right there. All I needed to do was lower my hand a few inches, and I would finally get to feel the glory that was Amanda’s ass. But I held my ground. I had a feeling Amanda had the same idea when her hips gyrated just a touch.