October 29, 2015

Tim's Bedroom

8:48 P.M.

With his homework complete and his parents occupied caring for his younger sister, Tim was enjoying his favorite part of the day. Once all his responsibilities were complete and he had nowhere he needed to be, he could at last sit back, strum on the strings of his old acoustic guitar, and soothe his stresses with a few chords of his favorite tunes. The warm, golden light that shone from the fairy lights above his bed created an ambience of tranquility and comfort that the boy wouldn't trade away for the world.

But tonight, the melodic strumming wasn't as comforting as usual. As Tim tried to focus on the chords as his fingers danced along the frets, a voice in the back of his mind continued to echo: not good enough. Not good enough. The words were impossible to ignore.

With a sigh, Tim lay his guitar beside him on the edge of his bed. He was no stranger to the insecurities of adolescence, of course; what 17-year old didn't feel unsure of themselves from time to time? But nevertheless, this one proved to be unrelenting, and it was beginning to dampen his enthusiasm for his music.

Over the past year, Tim and his band (who still had yet to settle on a name) had continued to build a name for themselves around Walkerville. They performed at several of the major school dances, in no small part thanks to his friends on the student council and had even attended a few gigs around the small town. Walkerville was only so big though, and since their last show over the summer, Tim felt the group was beginning to plateau.

It was only a matter of time before it happened, he supposed. If the road to stardom was simple, everyone would pursue it. But Tim just wasn't sure how to take the next step from small town starlet to a nationwide, maybe even just a statewide, celebrity.

Perhaps there was no next step. Perhaps they simply weren't good enough to attract a larger audience. Tim tended to fade into the background – how could he hope to stand out as a musician? Perhaps it was time to abandon his music for good.

Tim ran his fingers along the neck of the guitar once more. He still loved making music. Through his songs, he found himself able to express thoughts he never dared to say in real life. All his fears and doubts and passions and dreams had an outlet, and Tim didn't want to give that up. But if the universe didn't care about his music, then it made sense to focus his attention on something more productive.

So, maybe music would become a hobby rather than a genuine pursuit. It wasn't the end of the world, or so he told himself.

Tim was pulled away from his thoughts by the incessant buzzing of his cell phone, discarded lazily on the wardrobe opposite him. Groaning, Tim pushed himself off the bed and answered the call, desperate for the annoying noise to end.

Little did he know just how important that one phone call would be…

October 30, 2015

Walkerville High Cafeteria

11:57 A.M.

"Okay, we're all here," Wanda prodded impatiently as Carlos and Keesha returned to the table with their red plastic trays of food. "What's this big news that you've been dangling in front of us all day?"

Tim took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself before he shared. He didn't know how his friends would react, or even if they would care, but he couldn't deny his own excitement about the situation. "You guys remember Travis, right?"

"Drummer guy? Tall, greasy hair, only an alright kisser?"

"Yeah, exactly." Tim paused. "I mean, I guess so. I don't know about the kissing thing, but… Whatever. Anyway, he's been trying to book the band some shows outside of Walkerville, right? Well, last night he called me and apparently, this place in San Francisco, the Brick & Mortar Music Hall, their main act for Halloween needs a new last-minute opening number. Travis sent over a few tracks and they were really into it, and… We got the gig!"

To his surprise, Tim found himself instantly showered in excitement from his friends. "That's awesome!" DA crooned, patting him lightly on the arm.

"Seriously, that's major," Keesha added, beaming proudly.

Tim blushed and cast his eyes down at his lunch. "Yeah, it's actually pretty cool. And I… I just feel like we've been waiting for this for so long."

Carlos offered a wide grin. "Well then, it's decided – we're going to watch you preform!"

"Hey, don't worry about it," Tim quickly replied. "It's kinda far, and I know how last minute this is-"

"Tim, this is huge," DA cut in immediately. "Of course we're going."

Wanda's eyes lit up. "I could drive!"

Tim still seemed unsure. "Your car's not big enough for all of us, Wanda."

"So? It'll be fun!" Wanda leaned over to Ralphie. "It'll be like a real Ferris Bueller day thing-a-ma-jig…"

"A real Ferris Bueller day off?" Ralphie cried enthusiastically. He slammed his fists on the table, making everyone's lunch shake and knocking over Wanda's water bottle. "We're definitely doing this, guys!"

Wanda glared at the water stain growing on the front of her shirt. "Great…" she deadpanned, her excitement gone in an instant. "Just great."

"Well, if you're sure, it'd be nice to have the support," Tim added after a bit more consideration. "At least we know someone in the crowd will like us, right? And you could bring some energy to the gig."

Wanda smirked, forgetting the water in an instant. "I wouldn't count on it!"

But Tim knew that the girl was joking. Playfully, he shoved her away, grinning as he did so. "Yeah, yeah." God, he was lucky to have friends like these.

October 31, 2015

Li House

12:04 P.M.

Unsurely, Tim cocked his head at sight of the old sedan parked in front of the Li's comfortable 2-story home. "I really don't see how we're all going to fit in there."

"Magic," Wanda suggested, her brow lifting mischievously.

Keesha narrowed her eyes. "Except not magic. More like a lot of uncomfortable squishing."

Wanda shrugged. "Not my problem. And not Tim's." She pat the boy on the back. "You get shotgun since this is your special day or whatever. I'm still in charge of the music, though. Sorry, I don't make the rules."

"It's your car, you make all of the rules."

"I know, isn't it great?" Wanda dashed over to the driver's side and leapt into her spot at the front of the car. "Now, get in, losers! We're going road tripping!"

Keesha was still unimpressed with the driving situation, but everyone else piled into the car without complaint. In the end, everyone managed to squeeze into the vehicle, with Ralphie and Carlos curled up on the floor in the back and Phoebe perched precariously on Arnold's lap. It wasn't an ideal situation but given that Wanda was the only one of the gang with a car to call her own, they hardly had the luxury of being choosy.

Wanda glimpsed her friend's squished into the backseat and laughed. "Hey, if you see any cops, act casual. Got it?"

"Oh yes, I'm sure no one will suspect a thing," DA remarked, struggling to get comfortable with Carlos leaning against her shins. Still, at least she got a real seat, right? She was hardly going to complain.

Wanda ignored the sarcasm and turned her attention to the road ahead. "Alright… San Francisco, here we come!"

October 31, 2015

Back Road

2:39 P.M.

"San Francisco has changed," Keesha retorted, peering out the window at the row of dismal, dilapidated store fronts lining the cracked back road Wanda had found the group on.

Wanda cursed under her breath. "It's a long drive, okay? This is just a… A scenic detour."

DA rolled her eyes. "I told you to take the last exit."

"You mentioned," Wanda muttered, searching for any sign out of the confusing labyrinth of depressing 2-lane roads she was currently trapped on. "Along with pointing out every damn road sign, car on the road, and 'suggestion' for how you would drive."

"Can you blame me? You're not a good driver."

"At least I have a car!"

As Wanda and DA continued to bicker back and forth, Ralphie leaned his head on Arnold's knee and groaned. "I forgot how much I hate long car trips…"

Arnold grimaced, peeking around Phoebe to look down at the boy. "Don't tell me your feeling motion sick now, Ralphie."

"Ugh…"

Wanda glared in the rearview mirror. "No throwing up in the sedan!"

"Could you try making the drive less bumpy?" Ralphie murmured, shutting his eyes weakly.

"Between these frickin' potholes and all the random stop signs that DA keeps pointing out… Not really."

DA was unimpressed with the response. "I wouldn't keep pointing them out if you actually noticed them on your own."

"There's no cops around, who cares?"

Carlos fidgeted stiffly. "That's reassuring…" he remarked dismally, becoming acutely aware of his lack of a seatbelt.

Wanda swatted lazily in the boy's direction, unable to look away from the unfamiliar road ahead. Though she missed his head by a long shot, the action got her message across, nevertheless. "Shush! Let me focus!"

October 31, 2015

Freeway

3:48 P.M.

Carlos sat up straight to peer out of the window behind him. He sighed. "Who knew California had so many big, empty fields?"

"And so few San Francisco's," DA added shortly, making the boy grin.

Wanda, meanwhile, was far less amused. "At least we're going the right way now," she retorted.

DA peeked at her watch. "Yeah… After an hour of aimless meandering in creepy old towns."

"Why don't we stop somewhere for a short break?" Phoebe cut in. The long drive had everyone on edge; she hoped a few minutes to stretch their legs might do some good for the growing tension in the stuffy car. It would certainly help Ralphie, who was looking increasingly green as the ride continued.

The rest of the car was quick to agree with the suggestion, and Wanda gave in. "Fine, where do you want to stop?"

"Anywhere I can get a coffee," Keesha commented, rubbing her temples. Her nerves were beyond frayed at this point – a caffeine kick was more than overdue.

"And with a bathroom," Ralphie added meekly.

Wanda frowned. "So... Literally any store ever? Helpful."

"Just find a gas station somewhere," DA ordered, searching for a road sign for direction. "You can fill up the tank while we're there."

"I have half a tank left!"

"The fuel gauge is broken! You've had half a tank for the last 3 hours!"

Arnold cleared his throat. "I think there's a McDonald's coming up. Why not just go there?"

Wanda began to steer towards the right lane, but Ralphie was quick to shake his head. "Anywhere but McDonald's. Their ice cream machine never works." Annoyed, Wanda jerked the car back to the original lane she'd been travelling along.

Arnold frowned. "Honestly, you don't look like you need any ice cream right now."

"Yeah, but…" Ralphie furrowed his brow, fighting back another wave of nausea. Once it passed, he turned back to his friend. "Ice cream makes everything better."

"Not really…"

Tim twisted to face his friends in the backseat. "I mean… I could go for some ice cream."

"I'm about to scream," Carlos chimed in, still playful despite the uncomfortable ride. Lightly, DA kicked him in the back.

"It doesn't matter," Wanda cut in impatiently. "I just passed the exit for McDonald's."

Crossing her arms, DA peered out the window. "You should've just taken it. I'm sure we could've found everything we needed around there."

A look of angry determination crossed Wanda's face, and she immediately jerked the steering wheel as far to the right as she possibly could.

October 31, 2015

Freeway

4:13 P.M.

"How are we doing with time?" Keesha asked, taking a sip of her piping hot McDonald's coffee.

Tim checked the digital clock blinking on the car's display. "According to this, it's… 12:00… 12:00… 12:00… Wait, no, 12:01."

Wanda shoved Tim's face away from the display. "Okay, so I haven't set the clock, so sue me. It's too confusing."

"Do you want me to figure it out?" he offered. "It's not like I have anything better to do."

"Nah. I like it like this. My mom freaks out and thinks we're running late every time I drive her somewhere." Wanda laughed to herself. "I mean, we usually are late. But she never knows if we're a little late or, like, super late. Which is fun."

Blowing past the comment, DA checked her watch once again. "We've got time," she told the girl beside her. "Not a ton, but we should still make it the show by 6:00."

Ralphie looked away from his ice cream cone for a moment, a goofy grin on his face. "I forgot all about Tim's thing," he remarked. He took another lick of the sweet ice cream. "You must be starting to freak out, dude."

"Oh, definitely," Tim replied, voice remarkably calm. "Part of me wants to start crying right here."

"And the other part?"

"The other part just wishes it'd got some of that ice cream."

Ralphie nodded sympathetically. "Never say no to ice cream, dude. Lesson number 1 to life."

"Profound," Keesha muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. How is this the way she chose to spend her Saturday? Tiredly, she took another sip of her bitter, black coffee.

October 31, 2015

San Francisco Suburbs

5:22 P.M.

"Okay, so maybe we don't have so much time now," Wanda conceded, scanning the endless rows of identical houses with a bewildered expression. "But can you really blame me? This is some Stepford-level crap!"

Hissing to herself, DA wedged herself forward, doing her best to peer out of the front window in the crowded vehicle. "Why would you even enter some random neighborhood? Did you really think this was the city?"

"It was a shortcut! Google promised!"

"It's only a shortcut if you know the right route! Otherwise, you just get lost – again!"

"Yeah, apparently!"

Uncomfortably, Arnold squirmed in his seat as much as he could. "Hey, not to add fuel to the fire or anything, but I don't suppose we could take a bathroom break sometime soon?"

DA and Wanda shot daggers in the boy's direction, and immediately Arnold regretted having asked. "Why didn't you go at McDonald's?"

"I didn't need to then…"

DA shook her head sternly. "We don't have time to stop, Arn! Not unless you know the way out of here."

"No…" Arnold murmured dismally. He leaned back stiffly. "I'll wait."

"Good!"

Another painful silence descended upon the stuffy sedan, lasting for seemingly hours until Carlos at last cut in with a loud, impatient sigh. "Let's play a game," he proposed, to little reception. Regardless, he quickly searched about the vehicle. "I spy with my little eye… Something beginning with DA."

While DA merely rolled her eyes at the childish game, Ralphie pursed his lips as he considered the clue. "Is it… DA?"

"Yeah!" His shoulders fell. "I can't see much from down here," he confessed.

"Oh well, my turn!" Ralphie enthusiastically glanced about despite the fact that his own view was as obstructed as his friend's. "I spy something cold and vanilla flavored."

"Your ice cream?"

"Uh-huh!"

Wanda's eyes flickered towards the rear-view mirror. "What do you mean you still see ice cream? You said you finished ages ago!" Her expression hardened. "You didn't drop any in the car, right?"

Ralphie peered at the large, sticky stain beside him on the back of the driver's seat. "Um… No?" He cleared his throat. "So… Maybe a different game, then?"

"Would you call me racist if I suggested a Chinese Fire Drill?" Carlos asked, leaning forward to peer towards Wanda.

Wanda shoved his face away as best she could. "Yes."

"How about we just play the quiet game?" DA interrupted sternly, sensing a migraine rapidly forming amid the pointless jabber and uncomfortable heat.

Ralphie groaned. His friends frequently suggested playing the quiet game, but he never saw the appeal himself. Still, he was never one to back down from a challenge. His competitive nature now sparking its head, Ralphie gestured zipping his lips closed, and the rest of the vehicle breathed a subtle breath of relief.

October 31, 2015

San Francisco

5:57 P.M.

Anxiously, Tim peered at his phone to check the time. "You're really cutting this close, huh?"

Wanda shrugged. "I'm doing you a favor. You don't want to look too eager, right?"

With a furrowed brow, Keesha shook her head slowly. "No, why would he want to look interested? People might think he cares about his music or something. The horror."

"Precisely."

Wanda swerved around another corner, causing her passengers to slide violently to the left. Rubbing his arm, Arnold glared towards the front seat. "How the hell did you get your license, Wanda?"

"I cheated." Wanda slammed on her breaks, and the car halted to a stop. After the final jerk that left Carlos and Ralphie painfully rubbing their heads, she gestured out the window. "We've arrived!"

DA followed her gaze. "Holy crap, we are. And we're on time and everything! How did you-"

"Lotta speeding, lotta broken traffic laws – who cares?" Wanda shoved Tim towards the passenger side door. "Go get set up already! I'll find a place I'm actually allowed to park and we'll meet you inside."

Tim wanted to say something heartfelt in that moment. He wanted to sing his praises for his friends for offering to come to San Francisco with him, or thank Wanda for making the long drive without having any idea of where she was going, or to at least say anything at all. But Wanda was right – there was no time. He had a show to put on.

He pressed his lips together and nodded. "Wish me luck," he commented briefly as he opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle. He would have time to show his appreciation. For now, he simply allowed himself to appreciate to significance of this moment. At long last, he had arrived.

The moment he slammed the door behind him, the sound of skidding tires filled the street. The sedan went flying down the street, reaching frightening speeds far quicker than such an old car had any right to travel, causing Tim to chuckle to himself. Wanda was enthusiastic, he had to give her that much.

As he walked through the front doors to the Brick & Mortar, it dawned on Tim just how lucky he was to have such loyal friends. The 8 of them jammed into a small space for such a long period was a clusterfuck to say the least, but never had any of them even considered missing this trip. As sick as Ralphie felt, and painfully full as Arnold's poor bladder got, as frustrated as DA became with Wanda's horrific driving skills, not once had they suggested turning back or staying behind.

They were eccentric and dramatic and dangerous to all that they encountered, but at the end of the day, they were the most supportive group of psychopaths that he could have ever hoped to call his friends. No matter what happened after tonight – whether he continued with music or gave up on the dream forever – he knew he would never have a moment of sadness or regret around it.

Tim was living the dream already. And as it turned out, the dream was nothing to do with his art at all.

October 31, 2015

The Brick & Mortar

7:16 P.M.

After he and his band performed their opening set – a range of their most well-received, well-practiced original songs from over the past year – Tim slipped into the crowd and sat down at the table his friends had laid claimed to. The moment he did, he was the center of attention.

"Why did you guys play that last song? It's such a bummer after that major dance number!" Wanda swayed to the music still playing in her head, a wide grin stretching from ear to ear.

Keesha rolled her eyes. "The fact that the depth of your song went over her head is a compliment," she assured Tim, shooting a dirty look at Wanda. Wanda remained oblivious.

Tim chuckled at the comment. "Everyone has different tastes," he shrugged, taking a sip from his water bottle. "I'm just impressed I still had her attention at the last song."

"Well- I- Yeah…" Wanda stammered defensively, face growing red. "I mean… Your music's okay, and… What else am I going to listen to?"

"You can just say that you liked his performance, Wanda," Phoebe assured gently. "It's okay to compliment people."

Wanda crossed her arms and averted her eyes. "Fine… It was good."

Tim waited for a sarcastic follow-up to the comment, but none came. Wanda didn't have a bad word to offer him. Tim rested his hand over his heart. "That's the kindest thing anyone's ever said to me," he joked, causing the girl to sink lower in her seat. "I'll remember you when I'm famous."

"Yeah, yeah, Wanda's a sap, very funny." Wanda sipped her drink, fuming, while the rest of the table simply laughed. For as much trouble as she caused them, it was a welcome relief to have her on the other end of the teasing for a change.

Their playful banter was cut short when a tall, well-dressed man approached their table, his warm eyes and calm smile an unusual addition to the group. He stood beside Tim and pulled out a crisp, white business card. "I enjoyed your music," he complimented, passing the card to him.

Tim took the card unsurely. The words Alan Mills, Talent Agent stared up at him. "Oh… Um, thanks."

"Sorry to startle you," the man laughed, seeing how tense Tim had become. "I like to come to these shows to find the latest talent. I was quite impressed with your work – original music isn't easy to write."

"I like to think of myself as the brains-" Carlos joked, earning him a sharp jab in the gut courtesy of DA's elbow. He doubled over instantly.

Tim ignored the scene across the table from him, though the agent did raise a brow. "My band and I have been working on them for a while," Tim replied coolly. "We've been playing together for a couple years now, so we've had plenty of time to workshop."

The agent nodded. "Sure, sure. Your hard work shows, it really does. You guys still in school?"

"We're seniors this year."

Another nod. "Okay. Well, school comes first, kid, but if you and your band are still playing together after graduation, give me a call, okay? I know a studio that's always hunting for new bands, and I'm sure they'd be more than happy to sort out a contract with you guys."

Shellshocked, Tim found himself at a loss for words. Sensing his surprise, DA quickly jumped in. "He'll be sure to do that," she replied, putting on her most professional voice.

"See that he does," the man laughed. "Alan Mills will be waiting."

The man walked back to his table on the far side of the hall, leaving the group to gather their thoughts. With mouth agape, Tim looked over to the more-composed DA. "What just happened?"

DA peered at the business card in his hands. "I'd say you just made a very important new friend, Tim."

"A friend with money! Look at that suit!" Wanda whistled at the thought. "Maybe I should get into music."

Tim looked back at the card one last time. As he reread the few words over and over, his shocked expression melted away, leaving a content grin in its place. Finally, after so many shows at the same few Walkerville locales, he finally felt like his music might be going somewhere.

Finally, he had the opportunity he always dreamt of.