Crossroads
If I Was Perfect, Then This Would Be Easy
1999.
Huntington Beach, California
The scorching California sun beat down on my neck as I glanced down at the crinkled piece of paper in my hand. In messy, black handwriting; an address had been scribbled. I examined the map of my area, smoothing the paper out across the empty passenger seat of my father's car, tracing each road with my finger as I figured out how to get there.
All I had ever wanted was to be a successful musician. I had watched my father and learned everything I knew from him. I was typically more classically-trained, but as I grew, I found myself drawn to Rock and Metal; Guns N' Roses, Metallica, Megadeth, Slayer, Pantera, Black Sabbath - just to name a few.
Slash and Dimebag Darrell were my Heroes, and I would lock myself up in my room for hours learning their solos, studying closely from VHS tapes of Guns N' Roses and Pantera concerts I'd picked up from my local video store. Where video wouldn't suffice, I had an acutely trained ear that carefully listened to each and every record my father had bought me.
Opportunity had finally arisen when my best friend; James - or Jimmy, as I called him - had been approached by another guy in our class who was looking for a Drummer. Matt's Punk band; Successful Failure, had ironically enough, failed, and set him back to square one. Luckily for me, they also needed a Lead Guitarist, and Jimmy had instantly thought of me. I'd been given the task of learning Raining Blood by Slayer and was determined to prove my worth.
I pulled into the driveway and switched off the car radio, climbing out and retrieving my white Gibson Les Paul (A gift from my Father for my Eighteenth birthday) from the trunk of my car. I could already hear Matt's band playing, they were so loud you could probably hear it from three streets away. They actually sounded pretty decent.
I knocked loudly on the garage door, and the noise suddenly stopped. The door was pulled up, and Matt's face stared out at me.
"Hey man, glad you could make it!" He grinned. "You been practicing that song?"
"Every day." I nodded.
"Well, plug in and show us what you've got." Matt said, gesturing toward a nearby guitar amp.
I unzipped my bag, pulling my guitar out, along with my lead.
"Hey." Spoke Zack; another guy I knew from school but hadn't spoken to before. "Nice guitar."
"Thanks man." I smiled, plugging in and tuning.
"Jimmy's told us you can shred, hopefully you can live up to his words." He laughed.
"I'll try my best."
"All good?" Matt asked a few moments later.
"Set." I nodded.
"You got this, man!!" Jimmy grinned at me, counting us in.
All seemed to go well, until a minute or two into the song, when things were supposed to get really crazy. My fingers darted over the fret board, trying to keep up with Jimmy's insane drumming, and stay in time with Zack. After a few moments of absolute chaos, Matt made everyone stop.
"Brian?" He said. "You okay?"
"Yeah." I lied. "Just having an off day, I guess."
"Just relax, dude." Zack smiled, nudging me. "Follow along with me."
With Zack's words of encouragement, we tried again. Sure enough, I found myself struggling again. It made no sense; I'd been able to nail this in my spare time practicing in my room, but now that it had come to the crunch, I was totally choking. I tried harder, moved my fingers faster, but it only resulted in a sloppy mess, completely out of time with the rest of the guys.
"Stop!" Matt snapped, seeming annoyed. "Brian, you did practice, right?"
"Every day, for several hours." I sighed. "I don't know what's going on, I was so sure I had it down."
"Everyone has off days." Zack shrugged.
"I'm not entirely sure you're what we're looking for..." Matt frowned.
"Dude, don't be so harsh." Jimmy came to my rescue. "He's an excellent guitarist, best I know, I'm sure he just needs more time."
Matt didn't seem convinced. "If he can't even play this, how the hell is he gonna keep up with the shit we've written?"
"He'll learn." Jimmy pressed.
"Give the kid another shot." Zack chimed in.
Matt remained silent for a few moments, and then spoke again. "Go home. Practice." His tone was stern. "Next Saturday. Last chance."
"Noted." I nodded...
***
"What happened back there?" Jimmy asked, sitting in the passenger's seat of my father's car after practice.
"I don't even know, man." I frowned, watching the road ahead. "I swear to god, I've been practicing night and day."
"I've no doubt about that." he said "You live, breathe, eat and shit guitar." he giggled.
"Maybe it's the pressure." I shrugged. "Maybe I'm not cut out for this."
"Don't talk like that." Jimmy growled. "You've got potential, you can do this."
"At least you have faith in me." I sighed, pulling into his driveway.
"Zacky seemed to take a liking to you?" Jimmy stated, trying to cheer me up. "You just gotta convince Matt, he's a stubborn little fuck."
"I guess so."
"Go home, do the grind, come back next week and kick ass." Jimmy smiled, hugging me tightly and kissing my cheek. "I have faith in you."
I forced a smile, showing my appreciation.
He got out of the car and bounded off toward his front door. I watched as he knocked twice, then flattened himself against the wall beside it. The door opened, revealing his Mother, and he jumped out, raising his arms and curling his fingers into claws. His mother gasped and her hand flew to her heart and her eyes grew wide. I chuckled as she slapped him with the oven mitt she was holding, and ushered him inside.
"You crazy bastard." I sniggered, shaking my head...
Huntington Beach, California
The scorching California sun beat down on my neck as I glanced down at the crinkled piece of paper in my hand. In messy, black handwriting; an address had been scribbled. I examined the map of my area, smoothing the paper out across the empty passenger seat of my father's car, tracing each road with my finger as I figured out how to get there.
All I had ever wanted was to be a successful musician. I had watched my father and learned everything I knew from him. I was typically more classically-trained, but as I grew, I found myself drawn to Rock and Metal; Guns N' Roses, Metallica, Megadeth, Slayer, Pantera, Black Sabbath - just to name a few.
Slash and Dimebag Darrell were my Heroes, and I would lock myself up in my room for hours learning their solos, studying closely from VHS tapes of Guns N' Roses and Pantera concerts I'd picked up from my local video store. Where video wouldn't suffice, I had an acutely trained ear that carefully listened to each and every record my father had bought me.
Opportunity had finally arisen when my best friend; James - or Jimmy, as I called him - had been approached by another guy in our class who was looking for a Drummer. Matt's Punk band; Successful Failure, had ironically enough, failed, and set him back to square one. Luckily for me, they also needed a Lead Guitarist, and Jimmy had instantly thought of me. I'd been given the task of learning Raining Blood by Slayer and was determined to prove my worth.
I pulled into the driveway and switched off the car radio, climbing out and retrieving my white Gibson Les Paul (A gift from my Father for my Eighteenth birthday) from the trunk of my car. I could already hear Matt's band playing, they were so loud you could probably hear it from three streets away. They actually sounded pretty decent.
I knocked loudly on the garage door, and the noise suddenly stopped. The door was pulled up, and Matt's face stared out at me.
"Hey man, glad you could make it!" He grinned. "You been practicing that song?"
"Every day." I nodded.
"Well, plug in and show us what you've got." Matt said, gesturing toward a nearby guitar amp.
I unzipped my bag, pulling my guitar out, along with my lead.
"Hey." Spoke Zack; another guy I knew from school but hadn't spoken to before. "Nice guitar."
"Thanks man." I smiled, plugging in and tuning.
"Jimmy's told us you can shred, hopefully you can live up to his words." He laughed.
"I'll try my best."
"All good?" Matt asked a few moments later.
"Set." I nodded.
"You got this, man!!" Jimmy grinned at me, counting us in.
All seemed to go well, until a minute or two into the song, when things were supposed to get really crazy. My fingers darted over the fret board, trying to keep up with Jimmy's insane drumming, and stay in time with Zack. After a few moments of absolute chaos, Matt made everyone stop.
"Brian?" He said. "You okay?"
"Yeah." I lied. "Just having an off day, I guess."
"Just relax, dude." Zack smiled, nudging me. "Follow along with me."
With Zack's words of encouragement, we tried again. Sure enough, I found myself struggling again. It made no sense; I'd been able to nail this in my spare time practicing in my room, but now that it had come to the crunch, I was totally choking. I tried harder, moved my fingers faster, but it only resulted in a sloppy mess, completely out of time with the rest of the guys.
"Stop!" Matt snapped, seeming annoyed. "Brian, you did practice, right?"
"Every day, for several hours." I sighed. "I don't know what's going on, I was so sure I had it down."
"Everyone has off days." Zack shrugged.
"I'm not entirely sure you're what we're looking for..." Matt frowned.
"Dude, don't be so harsh." Jimmy came to my rescue. "He's an excellent guitarist, best I know, I'm sure he just needs more time."
Matt didn't seem convinced. "If he can't even play this, how the hell is he gonna keep up with the shit we've written?"
"He'll learn." Jimmy pressed.
"Give the kid another shot." Zack chimed in.
Matt remained silent for a few moments, and then spoke again. "Go home. Practice." His tone was stern. "Next Saturday. Last chance."
"Noted." I nodded...
***
"What happened back there?" Jimmy asked, sitting in the passenger's seat of my father's car after practice.
"I don't even know, man." I frowned, watching the road ahead. "I swear to god, I've been practicing night and day."
"I've no doubt about that." he said "You live, breathe, eat and shit guitar." he giggled.
"Maybe it's the pressure." I shrugged. "Maybe I'm not cut out for this."
"Don't talk like that." Jimmy growled. "You've got potential, you can do this."
"At least you have faith in me." I sighed, pulling into his driveway.
"Zacky seemed to take a liking to you?" Jimmy stated, trying to cheer me up. "You just gotta convince Matt, he's a stubborn little fuck."
"I guess so."
"Go home, do the grind, come back next week and kick ass." Jimmy smiled, hugging me tightly and kissing my cheek. "I have faith in you."
I forced a smile, showing my appreciation.
He got out of the car and bounded off toward his front door. I watched as he knocked twice, then flattened himself against the wall beside it. The door opened, revealing his Mother, and he jumped out, raising his arms and curling his fingers into claws. His mother gasped and her hand flew to her heart and her eyes grew wide. I chuckled as she slapped him with the oven mitt she was holding, and ushered him inside.
"You crazy bastard." I sniggered, shaking my head...
Notes
Off to a little bit of a slow start, but this is all backstory, the real tale will begin soon enough!!
This is an idea I have had floating around in my mind since about 2009. It started off as basically a clone of the movie Constantine, under the title Hellspawn, on Mibba. I scrapped it, not wanting to be lazy and clone the story, and spent several years thinking, planning and re-tweaking it into something a little more original, and a little more interesting. Mind, all this planning has gone on in my head, so I'm still kinda making it up as I go along, but I have the basic idea down.
Supernatural. Avenged Sevenfold. Hints of Constantine/Hellblazer.
What more could you ask for?
Until next time xx
@shortygirl
I'm going to my 2nd one in June, gonna meet Misha, Richard Speight and Matt Cohen
And maybe get my Hunter's Journal signed by Jim Beaver ^_^
2/9/18