I want to be on TV / the fabulous fantasy life of Hesta, chapter 8
I took my guitar out of its case and opened my songbook. We had hours yet so I decided I'd play them an extract from every complete song I'd written so far. After each song I asked their opinions on it. My strumming was lazy and I hadn't warmed my voice up, but the results seemed to please them enough.
They commented that 'Echoing coldly' sounded a tad too girly and that 'Moving to Dubai' was immature and could use a middle eight, but other than that they couldn't make a criticism.
"That was class, how long did all of this take you?"
"Um, well I've been writing songs since primary school, but all theses ones I've wrote in the last six months"
"Wow, you're much better than Sam"
Stokell flinched at the mention of him he missed his best friend. I glanced at him sympathetically; him and Sam had wanted to be a successful band so much that they had gone their separate ways about it. That moment there was when I started to hate Sam. I wanted to wrap Stokell up in bubble wrap. And I wanted Sam to have an awful time without him. He could piss off with Kendra and his new Goth band all he wanted, but if he tried to crawl back to Stokell I was going to get in there first.
By the end of the afternoon we'd agreed on new set lists, and to stick with 'the enzymes' for the moment. And there wasn't a cover in sight. Stokell wanted to put 'shut-eyed vision' into every set, just so that he could be sure that him and Harry weren't 'Hesta's backing band'. We rehearsed a few things, and then decided that that would do and we'd meet at the forum on Sunday.
Harry got picked up and Stokell and me were left alone until my lift turned up. His eyes were gazing at me deep in thought.
"What?" I asked
"... What went wrong?"
"Vicki"
"But you didn't end it"
"... " Was he trying to make me feel uncomfortable?
"You're brilliant"
"... I'm glad you think so"
"No, really"
I didn't understand. Guys say stupid things and always mean something else. If he'd said 'you're beautiful' or 'I love you' then I would have understood.
He reached over and kissed my cheek as the doorbell rang.
They commented that 'Echoing coldly' sounded a tad too girly and that 'Moving to Dubai' was immature and could use a middle eight, but other than that they couldn't make a criticism.
"That was class, how long did all of this take you?"
"Um, well I've been writing songs since primary school, but all theses ones I've wrote in the last six months"
"Wow, you're much better than Sam"
Stokell flinched at the mention of him he missed his best friend. I glanced at him sympathetically; him and Sam had wanted to be a successful band so much that they had gone their separate ways about it. That moment there was when I started to hate Sam. I wanted to wrap Stokell up in bubble wrap. And I wanted Sam to have an awful time without him. He could piss off with Kendra and his new Goth band all he wanted, but if he tried to crawl back to Stokell I was going to get in there first.
By the end of the afternoon we'd agreed on new set lists, and to stick with 'the enzymes' for the moment. And there wasn't a cover in sight. Stokell wanted to put 'shut-eyed vision' into every set, just so that he could be sure that him and Harry weren't 'Hesta's backing band'. We rehearsed a few things, and then decided that that would do and we'd meet at the forum on Sunday.
Harry got picked up and Stokell and me were left alone until my lift turned up. His eyes were gazing at me deep in thought.
"What?" I asked
"... What went wrong?"
"Vicki"
"But you didn't end it"
"... " Was he trying to make me feel uncomfortable?
"You're brilliant"
"... I'm glad you think so"
"No, really"
I didn't understand. Guys say stupid things and always mean something else. If he'd said 'you're beautiful' or 'I love you' then I would have understood.
He reached over and kissed my cheek as the doorbell rang.
