InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "do the noodle dance!"

Sophocles Jones (felonious_punk) wrote in haunted_roads,
@ 2008-03-09 04:26:00

Entry tags:

bastian, sophie

Week Three: Sunday
Who: Sophie and Bas
Where: Studio7
When: Sometime between 9:30 and 10:30
What: Ummm... Hi Daddy!

The Stepford Wives. First night at Studio Seven, though not their first night anywhere. This was, by far, their biggest gig yet, even if Studio Seven specialized in local acts. Still, how they did here would make all the difference in theith immediate futures. It was a foot in the door kind of venue and whether you did well here or sucked, it would enfluence whether others hired you. Not to mention the exposure was the absolute best they could hope to have at this juncture.

Like their audience and even the club employees, most of The Stepford wives had something in their system. But they weren’t complete idiots and none wanted to be wasted tonight. At least not yet. After the show would be a great time for that. They’d all done a few lines, shared an eight ball just before they took the stage. Gave them great energy, though Sophie had balance it, took a little of the edge off, by smoking a bowl. She wanted energy, not anxiety.

Needless to say, she was beyond happy with her feeling, and just as happy with the sound of their set. Even better, the feedback they were getting from the audience. That was a greater high then any of the other shit any of them put in their bodies.

The set began with an intense energy with Burn ‘em Down and continued when Sophie took ver the lead vocals on the lewd Cumming into My Own. With the audience reeling she carried them straight into a caustic cover of the Distillers’ Hate Me. Finally, after Psycho Bitches out of Hell Sophie relinquished the vocals once more to concentrate her energy on guitar, and a nice glass of water. That Distillers song was hell on her throat.

God this was fun. Too bad Maggie would never appreciate it the way Sophie did. Not to mention she really would freak on some of the shit coming out of her little girl’s mouth.

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better_days
2008-03-10 04:23 am UTC (link)

The days went on. One after another with no real progress made. Constantly he made stops by the bar with no luck, that sinking dread that the place just wasn't open anymore was starting to take hold. Maybe they had all moved on, left this city behind them and went off to find better things. It was a nicer thought then the one of them simply not being around anymore. He'd done what he could to try to assure himself that they were still alive but only so much could be done when you had so little to work with. He'd gone to the library, flipped through newspapers and files seeking to find some sort of answers. Deeds of sale for the bar, something really. But his time was limited with only the night on his side...

Time was limited when you knew you were being hunted from the shadows. He had no doubt that she was somewhere in the city...and if she wasn't those that worked with her were. The man at the hotel already told Bastian that a few had come looking for him there...but none were the ones he was hoping for. He closed the messaging service, thanked the guy and went on his way.

A new hotel every night. sometimes just shelters, sometimes the streets themselves. It wasn't the first time he'd slept on them...and times felt nearly like they did back then. When it felt like the bottom had given out and you just couldn't stop falling.

Bars had become his frequent home even though the cash was running out. There were a few that let him serve drinks or wipe down tables to pay off his tab. There had even been an old man at one bar that recognized him and told Bastian he could perform for his drinks...but Bastian declined. He hadn't touched a guitar in over eight years...he didn't think he had any music left in him. Had to have some life to play and life was bleeding out of him.

He knew he needed to get out of the city. Hit the road again, keep moving to avoid being found again. He knew lingering just ensured she'd get him again and he knew once she did that she was not going to be happy. Bastian had pissed her off more then once and it was never pretty. He had the scars to prove it. Everything logical in his brain said just move on already....leave the town, give up. They were better off without him now....

But the heart...it wouldn't let him go. Clinging to something that could very well be gone and only get them into trouble. He needed to think of them first, needed to leave so they didn't get caught up in all of this. But weren't they already? He didn't know what to really do. Nothing was right and every path felt to be running him into a dead end.

Tonight he didn't even really know how he ended up here. A group in a bar had started up about some bands playing tonight and in their eagerness they'd gone and tried to drag the entire bar over to Studio Seven. It was a woman offering to buy him some drinks that got him up and moving. Older woman that seemed to get that he really wasn't looking for anything at all except the bottom of a bottle to numb out the pain for a bit. Just for a few minutes. Just an hour maybe. Then he'd be up again. Then he'd go by the bar with that hope there only to drop back down to his feet in a striking blow.

To the top floor where the bar was located was Bastian. He couldn't see the stage, he wasn't really focused on the music. He didn't let himself much anymore...was just something else lost to him. The woman had set him up with a bottle on her tab and gave a squeeze to his arm before going off with her friends.

Bastian gave a thanks before she went...and started the process of finishing the thing off. But try as he might to just ignore everything around him, something about a few of the songs had drawn his attention. Not the songs so much but the voice. It wasn't one he recognized, eight years gone and times had changed. But still more then once it had drawn his eyes up, peering across the way as though he could see the stage.

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felonious_punk
2008-03-10 06:13 am UTC (link)

The heart made people do stupid things. Like Maggie especially. Sophie heard her still, sometimes, crying in her room all alone, when she thought Sophie was asleep and would hear her. Sophie knew. Hell, she’d spent her own share of nights crying. But for her it had been different, now hadn’t it? Of course, she knew the old man cried sometimes too. Sophie went by to see him every single day without fail. Sometimes it was obvious what he’d been doing. Red eyes and all. Sophie didn’t make it obvious she noticed. Kind of hard not to with pictures of all of his lost family around. All of them gone. Just… gone. Shit had to fucking hurt.

Yeah, the heart made everything really fucking painful sometimes.

But Sophie’s heart, at the time being, was on the stage. Here she poured her heart into each and every song. She played and sang like it was her first time and her last time. She loved it. Always had. She played like one who knew the instrument intimately, and in a way Sophie did. It was a guitar that had meant a lot to her.

A guitar that belonged to her old man.

Maggie had put up a fight actually, not wanting Sophie to take the guitar out of the house, but Sophie generally ended up sneaking it out. When she was caught, she just dealt with the consequences. The way she figured, he wasn’t coming back… it as hers by way of heredity. And she respected it all the more because of it. It had been his, his fingers had once stroked the chords the same as hers now did. In fact… it had been on this guitar, and on the other, the accoustic, that Bastian had taught his little girl to play those chords.

Their set lasted an hour and when it was done they broke down their set, stored their gear, and made their way back in to the club to mingle. Sophie’s ID said she was of age, and the management wasn’t arguing. She and a few other’s set up at a table near the back to listen to the next band. Not that there was enough room. Old dude at the table next to their’s was all alone though, maybe they could get him to share. The drummer leaned in to ask him and Sophie nearly leaped out of her skin.

She sat transfixed, staring, gone cold it seemed, so others were shaking her asking if she was okay.

All Sophie could do was stare. “Yo man, Sophie snap the fuck out of it. What the fuck?”