Ben glares at me as he pulls his guitar strap over his head. No doubt I’ll get a lecture later about being a team player. I don’t start the set. He does. It’s a lecture I’ve heard like a gazillion times. At this point, I can recite it. In fact, I know the teamwork speech better than the lyrics to some of our newer songs. Maybe we should put it to music.
Anyway, Lola is itching to go by the time Nic kicks in the bass, and we roll into our first song. It’s a cover for an old rock band who was famous and gone before any of my bandmates were even born. We finish and play five more before ending with one of our originals.
The original is the song Ben wrote. He calls it “Midnight” or “Twilight” or “Nightlight” or something equally overused and unremarkable. They always have to name it. Who cares? The name doesn’t matter. The music does.
This particular melody starts out slow, winding its way around your head before it builds and blows the doors off the place. Ben says it will make us filthy rich if we can just get the right person to hear it. And maybe that’s true. All I know is that it makes me happy, so I’ll play it as long as they let me.
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