Forty-Six

It was officially winter break. Finals went by smoothly, and that was mostly thanks to Devon. He had Darcy, Buddy, and I come over for a study group, and he helped us with the parts we found the most difficult. I was sure I passed.

Christmas passed, and Jeanie was coming back tonight from another LA gaming conference with her new team. I was proud of her and kept her live steam playing in the house as I got ready for last night's concert. After tonight, we had one more concert for New Year, and then we'd be on our mini vacation.

As much as I hated the idea of taking time off from performing, I was looking forward to it. I'd have more time to spend with Devon, and I even made plans to hang out with Buddy like the old days. This time, I was prepared to kick his ass in Mario Maker 2.

Most importantly, I'd been exhausted. I never realized how much I was relying on those energy drinks. Throughout the show, I could feel myself slipping, like I was about to fall asleep. I did my best to keep my eyes open and focus, but I was on autopilot. I knew I was playing everything correctly, because no one had stopped to boo, and no one from the band had come over to check on me and scold me for messing up. But I'd snap myself back into reality and needing to refocus. It wasn't good. I was going to need to find some ice to slide down my back during our break.

Nate was in the middle of his solo, and James and Lucy stepped off stage. He motioned for me to follow him, and I quickly followed behind.

"Is everything okay?"

They both looked at each other. "You tell us," he said. "I can hear you're not in it."

"Are you feeling alright?" Lucy questioned. She leaned down to feel my forehead and frowned. "You're really warm."

"Oh, I'll be fine," I promised.

James shook his head. "I'm getting the manager. We're cutting the show short tonight."

"What? James, don't do that."

"You. Are. Sick!" he snapped. "Stop lying to me, and admit it. You are not feeling good. You need to take a break. You need to rest and take some time off. I am going to explain that you are not feeling good, and then I am taking you home."

"You can't do that," I protested. "Think of the band-"

"I am."

"We don't care, Mel," Lucy sighed. "We just want you to be okay, and you're not."

"Who gives a shit about me?" I snapped. They were both taken aback. "We are in a band. We had fans come all the way out here to see us tonight, and we're going to cut the show short just because I'm a little tired? I've been playing fine all night, right?"

"You're not fully here."

"We have, what, half an hour left? I'll be fine until then. Just get me some ice to shove down my back," I demanded.

Nate's solo ended, and he walked off stage. He quirked an eyebrow when he noticed all of us huddled together. "Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," I stated. Turning back to James, I said, "I'm going to the bathroom. Don't even think about cancelling the rest of the show."

Storming away from him, I pushed my way into the bathroom. Sitting in one of the stalls, what I did sunk in. I'd never snapped at any of my bandmates before, and I didn't think I would feel the need to. But the idea of cancelling the second half of the show just because I was tired didn't seem like big enough of a reason to cancel. There was an hour left. I could make it through the rest of the night.

I knew I would need to apologize once I made it back, but there was no way I was going to be the reason the show got cancelled. I cared about my health, but I refused to let the show end just because of a little tiredness. I was still the new guy. I was still trying to prove myself to this band that I was worth being in the band and staying in the band. I didn't need them trying to find a replacement behind my back. If I was going to leave, it would not be because I couldn't handle a lot on my plate.

Exiting the bathroom, I spotted a man leaning against the men's bathroom door. He stared at me, his smile softening when he noticed I was staring back. "Melanie Snider, right?"

My heart stopped and I froze. Who the fuck was this guy?

He took a step closer to me, and I took a step back. He held out his hand to me. "My name is Mark Davis. I own this club."

I didn't shake his hand. Instead, I glared at him. "Did James tell you to cancel the show?"

Mark seemed taken aback. "Why does he want to cancel?"

Groaning, I leaned against the wall by the women's bathroom door. "I've been having sleep issues, and he thinks I'm off today. He wants to cancel the show because he wants to make sure I'm okay."

"Sounds like a loving friend you've got there."

I crossed my arms and stared at my feet. "That may be true... but I refuse to cancel."

"You really care about your fans then, huh?"

I nodded. "I've been playing drums for years and have always wanted to be part of a band. Now that I'm part of one, I feel like I have to prove to them that I'm worthy of being part of this band. I'm technically the replacement drummer, so I have to work hard to prove that I deserve my place and that they didn't make a mistake by choosing me. I've never wanted anything more in my life. I don't want a little tiredness to be the reason it all goes away."

"I understand that, but you have to take care of yourself, too. You won't be able to perform long if you pass out and injure yourself. It could prevent you from ever playing again. Be sure you're able to take on the band and everything thrown at you. That means you can't keep forcing yourself to play when you're not equipped to. Hate to say it, but maybe you should cancel tonight."

"I refuse," I stated. "Everyone came out to hear us tonight. They're expecting a second half. What kind of band would we be if we stopped while I'm still perfectly capable of being able to play? I've been doing fine this first half. I'll be fine for the second."

"Does your band think you will be?"

"No, but I know myself, and I know my limits. I will not let this band or this audience down tonight."

"No matter what, you'll be letting one of them down." Pushing himself off the wall, he walked back towards the crowd. "If you feel yourself slipping, tell your band, and we'll cut it short. Take care of yourself."

"Thank you," I said, waving him off. So what if my band was disappointed in me for playing? I knew what my limits were, and I was in the zone. I would be fine tonight. I knew I could play. I would not let them down, and I would not let the audience down. Many musicians still played even when they weren't fully there, and most of them did great. I could be just like them.

Walking back to the curtains, everyone quickly looked at me. I hated to see how worried they looked. As reluctant as I was, I said, "If I feel like I'm reaching my limit, I will play the punchline rimshot, and that will be my cue that I need to stop playing."

James and Lucy stared worriedly at each other.

"You know you can play?" Nate questioned.

"Yes."

"You're not lying or pushing yourself?"

"No."

He turned to the two. "Let her play. She's determined to play. She may resent us if we don't." Winking at me, he walked back on stage, and I quickly followed him.

James and Lucy walked on, and he glanced back at me. I nodded, and, though he sighed, he sang the opening lines to our cover of The Gutter by Coheed and Cambria.

As the show went on, I felt proud of myself. I was proving James wrong, that I could play. I was having fun, and my determination to play fueled me to play even better. James noticed the change by the third song, and he was smiling back at me with the others. Really, it was nothing but an off night.

At least it was until he sang his song dedicated to Petula Hold On Tight. I didn't come in until the bridge with everyone else. As James sang, I could feel myself slipping. Like the weight of my exhaustion bitch slapped me across the face, I could hardly hold my head up.

Nate noticed me and he walked over to the drums. He didn't whisper anything, but I knew he was asking if I was okay. Shaking my head to him, I motioned for him to walk away. I wouldn't play for this song. Lucy and Nate could take over for me and make it a more acoustic version of the song. I'd play the rimshot, and then we'd end the show. I'd be home in the hour.

However, I could recall playing the drums during James's song. It just wound up being with my head as I fell off the drum stool.