big ass chapter. haha.
sry. im so tired
"How are we feelin' tonight?!"
Rock was sitting on a stool placed upon the low stage. His hands were clammy and damp with sweat, and he felt the guitar slipping in his grasp. There was a bright ceiling light shining directly in his eyes, and his heart was beating in throat. The room seemed extraordinarily humid and his breath stuck in his throat.
Okay… okay, calm down Rocky. Breathe. Deep breaths…
Iori was at the front of the stage chatting up the crowd. He didn't seem nervous or embarrassed in the least, especially considering his wardrobe. During rehearsals, he has dressed relatively tamely, but once he got on stage he felt the need to procure a set of cheap heart-shaped sunglasses and remove his shirt. He looked incredibly trashy, especially with that bruise on his face.
Does he think it looks cool? Ugh… man.
Well, the crowd seemed to find Iori's antics amusing, and cheered. The red-haired man was drinking up the attention and didn't seem to know (or care) that half of his audience thought he had brain damage.
Rock wished he had that sort of confidence… or ignorance. At this point, he was about ready to start hyperventilating. About twenty minutes ago, right when Rock was finishing up his giant jambalaya, Iori had squeezed through the crowd and smacked a sheaf of papers down on the table. He had listened - almost incredulously - as Iori explained that they'd be performing 'Right now. You've eaten enough anyways, lets go.'
Rock had gotten angry and frustrated with these plans which were sprung suddenly upon him. After all, he'd been practicing all day, and was looking forward to taking a break. However, as usual, Rock didn't even have time form a coherent protest before he was prodded to his feet and hearded upstage. He swore there was still rice on his shirt when Iori sat him down and dropped the guitar on him.
Deep breaths… phwooo… okay…. You're okay… you're cool Rocky…
Nevertheless, the anger was soon swallowed by apprehension. Rock knew the day would come where he would need to perform before an audience, but he'd procrastinated in his mental preparation. He was so scared of the concept that he did his best to ignore that glaring reality entirely. Now, Iori had metaphorically slapped him in the face with what he dreaded the most.
It's gonna be okay… it'll be okay…
Rock exhaled a long breath and tried to suppress the feeling of nausea that began churning in his stomach. His vision swam and the notes on his sheet music started to float off the paper. Rock felt the eyes of the crowd boring into him, judging his every move and probably thinking he was inadequate and-
"-ock Howard. He looks harmless, right? Like you'd let him babysit your kids. Anyways, he's actually crazy violent."
Rock snapped to attention as Iori introduced him. He cringed beneath the curious stares of the crowd. Did he just say I'm violent?
Iori cackled and spoke while tangling himself in the microphone's cord.
"He tried to fight me within ten minutes of introducing himself. After I convinced him to play basketball instead, he broke my arm. He also punched me a couple of hours ago." Iori tapped the bruise on his face. "He's a real sweetheart."
Iori glanced back at him as the crowd laughed appreciatively. The man observed him from behind his stupid glasses, and his expression became serious. He mouthed 'are you ready?'
Ready?... Hah, like hell… I'm going to die…
He nodded, but apparently it wasn't convincing. Iori turned back to the audience.
"So, guys, do me a favor won't you? Karma bit him in the ass, and he's got a serious case of allergies. So if he starts crying, cheer for him, alright? He's a good kid."
The crowd gave another whoop and Iori looked back to him. Rock gulped and blinked until the notes stopped moving. As much as he'd like to be back at the hotel, Iori was counting on him, and he wasn't about to disappoint. Hell, Iori had done a lot for him, so the least he could do was try his best. He nodded - with more conviction this time - and strummed the intro.
Alright…. I got this… phew… just focus on the sheets…
Rock stared down at the music and tried his best not to look at the audience. Iori grinned and turned back around. He caught his cue and they were off.
Two hours flew by without serious incident. Rock had played the songs before, so repeating them wasn't the issue, the issue was just sitting on-stage. The music was obviously hesitant - as Rock's hands were quite literally shaking - but passable. Iori probably noticed, but he made no complaints and simply matched his rhythm.
Iori seemed more involved here than in his televised concerts, probably to cover for his utter lack of stage manner. He was parading about the stage with the microphone stand and singing like there was no tomorrow. During rehearsals, Iori and Athena had practiced quietly in order to preserve their voices, but here, Iori wasn't holding back. It didn't seem like he needed to, anyways. The sound came from deep in his chest and his voice lacked the telltale sound of strain. It gave him an operatic quality which clashed horribly with his image. Perhaps that was what he was aiming for, because he strutted about the stage like he was trying to piss someone off.
Maybe if I start smoking I can sing like that too… I mean… wow, he hit that note… haha…
The show lasted 2 hours, and for the first, Rock felt sick to his stomach. He only really eased up when he realized nobody was watching him. For once, Iori's shitty attention-seeking outfits were working toward Rock's peace of mind - rather than being a source of second-hand embarrassment.
Nevertheless, during the second hour Rock had gathered the courage to lift his head and attempt participation. People seemed to know he was nervous and smiled encouragement at him. He grinned sheepishly back and tried to enjoy himself. He had memorized the songs long ago, and was rather proud of the accuracy during the second hour. By the end of the mini-concert he had gained enough confidence to sit comfortably onstage and even add some improvision into his music.
They closed out at seven thirty to cheers, and waded out of the bar, into the street. Iori was all pissed off because someone had stolen his heart glasses, and didn't address the performance at all. Instead, he insisted they stop by the dollar shop and purchase new ones before they returned to the concert venue. He was deciding between 'too small' and 'polka-dots' when he spoke to Rock.
"So? How was it, kiddo?"
Rock was spacing out. He snapped to attention and turn to look at the red-haired man. The glasses didn't even fit Iori's head. He had produced a set of bobby pins to keep his hair back as he observed himself in the mirror.
Holy crap man… well, at least he put his shirt back on…
"Huh?... Oh... honestly… you look kinda… They look really bad. Both sets."
Iori didn't miss a beat.
"Are you questioning my fashion sense, Howard?"
He was feigning anger, but there was the curl of amusement on his lip. Rock rolled his eyes and decided his boss deserved some backlash for throwing him on stage so suddenly. He grumbled a tentative insult.
"You look like you decided to be a drag queen, but forgot about it halfway through. Just buy the normal glasses…"
Iori laughed, picked the polka-dotted glasses, grabbed three packs of beef jerky, and queued up. Rock fell in line behind him. Iori didn't look at him when he spoke, instead opting to tap quarter inch deep holes into the checkout conveyor belt's surface. The cashier's face was the very image of confusion.
When he spoke again, his voice was low and serious. There was a note of apprehension in his speech, so subtle that Rock almost missed it.
"I asked, how was it. How do you feel about playing onstage? I mean, the small crowds are generally friendly."
"... um, well."
Iori didn't say a word. Rock decided to use this opportunity to test his bosses reactions. He watched the man's body language carefully and spoke coldly.
"It was pretty nervewracking, and I wish you gave me prior notice."
A moment of silence. Iori was obviously waiting for him to elaborate, and when he didn't, the man seemed to deflate. Rock couldn't see his face, but Iori was never good at hiding his emotions. It was quite obvious that whatever Rock had said upset Iori immensely and he stopped tapping the conveyer belt. Instead, he just let his hand down and began to carve the plastic into long ribbons as it ran under his fingertips. That had caught the attention of not only the cashier, but also the rest of the customers in line.
After a moment, Iori let out a long sigh and responded in an almost-whisper.
"Ah… I see… that's it, then."
Rock couldn't help but feel bad. His intention was to exact petty revenge on his boss for throwing him onstage without consulting him. Whatever he did seemed to have worked too well, and Rock could almost smell the disappointment wafting off Iori. The teenager immediately began feeling guilty. He waved his hands and spoke too quickly in attempt to reverse whatever had just happened.
Oh damn… I've never seen him sad before…
"Wait! Uh, I mean, It was good though. In the beginning I was really nervous, but… you know. It was okay. I mean, just... just tell me a little earlier and that'd be great."
"..."
Iori turned to look at him, his brow was furrowed over his heart glasses.
"You're messing with me, aren't you… you did that on purpose."
… oh shit… he's onto me…
"N-no! I mean… uh, No. I seriously didn't! I promise I wasn't messing around… um. I-"
Rock began picking his brain for a good explanation for his behavior. He was coming up blank. Iori remained suspicious.
"You're sure about that?"
"Of course I'm sure! Why wouldn't I be sure of what I just said! Haha… uh… yeah… "
Dammit Rocky, why are you so awkward…
Iori studied him for a moment longer, ignored his obviously suspicious behavior, and took him at his word. He shook off the vestiges of apprehension and sadness, and stood up straight. It took only a mere moment for him to return to his normal, bossy self.
"That's good to hear, Howard. Glad you liked your first onstage performance. We'll be doing it until you hate it. Now-" He grinned, then stated theatrically, "Onward with the rehearsals."
Rock immediately stopped feeling bad for the crazy slavedriver.
*Iori Yagami and Athena Asimaya, huh? Yeah I heard about it in the news this morning. It's supposed to be a huge event! Are you excited, Rocky?*
"... Excited?"
Rock Howard had cocooned himself up in his blankets, and had pushed his face into a pillow. He had drawn the curtains and the city lights blinked calmly at him from the distance. He imagined that it'd be soothing, but all he could think about was the hundreds upon thousands of eyes that would be watching him. The apprehension was driving him nuts. He had vomited twice already, his head hurt something awful and he could hear his pulse pounding in his temple. He had tried to distract himself with mobile games, but they did nothing to help him.
As a last resort, he had called his father. He lay in bed and listened to Terry's voice emit from the phone. His father had always been a source of steadfast strength for him. It was the only thing so far that helped him to calm down. He raised his head out his cocoon to answer.
"I'm not excited... It's three in the morning and I haven't gotten a wink of sleep. The concert starts at 11 in the morning, but I have to be there at nine. That's six hours away... I'm so nervous I could die. Dad, I'm gonna die! W-what do I do?!"
He buried his face back into the pillow. He gazed over the city lights and he felt his stomach turn within him.
*... Rock. it's fine. I know you, and I know you can do this. You're working yourself up again. You need to calm down and get some sleep. Just think of it like it's an exam. Do you have Nyquil?*
"An Exam?! Dad! this is like a hundred times worse than any exam! There's going to be fifty-thousand people coming to see us... and it's gonna be on TV too! That's like a million people! What am I supposed to do!"
His breathing was unsteady and caught raggedly in his throat. His hands were cold and clammy with sweat.
"And I don't have Nyquil..."
*Can you call room service and get them to buy some for you? And don't take it on an empty stomach. Did Iori feed you?*
"I threw up... and room service doesn't run at 3 AM. Dad, I wanna go home. I can't take this... The small crowd was okay, but not this. It's too much."
*I don't want you to think about the concert, okay. Can we focus? Let's think about how to get some sleep. One step at a time, okay? Rock, are you with me?*
Rock exhaled and squeezed his eyes shut in a grimace. It felt like there were insects crawling up and down his spine. He shivered.
"I'm with you."
*Here's what's gonna happen. In a moment, I'm gonna put on you hold. You have water right?*
"Yeah."
*I want you to drink at least a full bottle by the time I get back. Can you do that? I don't want you to get dehydrated.*
"Yeah."
*Promise me.*
"I'm drinking, I'm drinking..."
*BRRR*
*BRRR*
*BRR-*
"... who the... Terry Boga-... Damn this piece of shit!"
Iori snatched his cellphone up from his bedstand, took once glance at the caller ID, and answered, only to immediately shout as many profanities as he could into the receiver.
"-ou piece of fuck! Just because I haven't come over and killed you yet, doesn't mean we're all buddy-buddy. What makes you think you can call me in the middle of the night and-"
*...*
"What?"
*...*
"Wait, how the hell do you know. Are you stalking my guitarist? Fuckin' creep!"
*...*
"Stop talking shit! You think I don't know Geese Howard? I fought a fucking gang war against him! Now leave me alone."
*...*
"Adopted?! What!?"
*...*
"I don't believe you."
*...*
"Fine. But if you're lying, I'm gonna blow up your house."
*...*
"Nyquil?... uh, no, but I've got melatonin. I'll go knock down his door or something."
*...*
"... ha! What are you talking about? You're going senile, old man. Howard was the one who broke my arm, not you. Keep your facts straight. But if you really wanna fight, then I'm happy to oblige, or at least Riot is. Wanna go?"
Some ref to ch10 of CashCow,(Rock claims to have broken Yag's arm) and also ch1 of MasterMind (Mary discovers Yag cut the thumbs off a ton of Geese henchman because they messed with his landlady.)
Sorry for long and, frankly boring chapter. I have some stuff planned for right after the concert.