March 29th, 2007
I don't remember how, but fifteen year old me ended up in St. Louis. The city was better than I'd heard. All I'd known about the place was the crime rates and the Arch. At night I could hear the blues playing. Each note wrapping its way around my head, going through my ears. Capturing me. I remember hearing about a hockey team called the Blues losing that night, leaving bitter fans heading home that night. I found myself in a club having a music competition. Just my luck.
Some band named 'Billy and the Boys' was playing, they were alright.
Being the hungry kid I was, I sat down and got something cheap to eat. Sitting alone and solemnly watching people playing their hearts out made me shed a tear. I was about ready to pawn off my guitar for more money. But then a an older african american man sat down at my table.
"You're a little young to be sitting alone here at this hour, miss." His unique voice rang in my ears. Before I could respond. "You play guitar?" I looked down at my guitar.
"I used to. I don't really anymore."
"Used to? Well that's a shame, because my gut tells me you're very good at it, and that you should get up there."
"I dunno…"
"Come on, kid, playing always makes me feel better… And well, younger."
"Heh… Well it's just-"
"Kid, whatever's bothering you, I guarantee will go away for a moment when you play. Doing something you enjoy is the only way you'll move past it."
I paused. Did I really deserve forgiveness? "You really think so? I mean, those guys up there aren't bad."
"I know so. Now get up there and show everyone what you've got, because those assholes ain't shit."
I looked down at my guitar case. I picked it up and open it on the table.
"Nice kid, a little different than my style, but still a good one." The man studied my axe.
Its shined in the light, its purple color going along with not just me, but complemented the mainly blue club I was in. The feeling of playing the guitar rushed back to me. The want, the urge, the need to play consumed every fiber of my body. Without saying a word I picked it up and walked towards the stage.
"Are there anymore contenders? Anybody? Alright, Bi-"
"I'll play." I raised my hand, standing right in front of the stage.
"You sure, kid? This is a pretty stiff competition here." He looked at right at me, causing everyone else to do the same.
"I'm sure of it." The announcer nodded and walked off stage, allowing me to take his spot. I looked out into the crowd, taking in my surroundings and the atmosphere.
"Just get off the stage, kid! You're way out of your league!" I heard a smug laughter from the audience. Billy and the Boys. Suddenly my confidence was fading. I thought he was right. I was only fifteen. I didn't have nearly the amount of experience these guys do, and I had nothing to play! I was about to walk off stage when I locked eyes with the man. His interest in my performance obvious as he nodded, as if to tell me 'you can do it'. I cleared my thoughts and looked down at the microphone. Thoughts and memories of home filled my mind. My parents, my sisters, my friends… Sam… and my brother… I knew what to play.
I strummed a note. I leaned into the microphone.
"Hey Jude," I began strumming again. "Don't make it bad… Take a sad song and make it better... "
The next seven minutes went by fast, including a guitar-only rendition of Hey Jude by The Beatles with an emotion filled guitar solo in there, a round of applause and a the first smile on my face since the night before… that happened.
The announcer came back on stage, clapping along with the crowd.
"Well, ladies and gentlemen, do we have ourselves a winner?" A roaring cheer came from the crowd. "Well I guess that answers that question.!" He laughed a bit. "Tell us ma'am, what is your name?"
"M-my name?" I froze. I didn't know what to say. Luna Loud? No, I was stripped of that surname when he died.
"L-..." What's my name, what's my name!? I internally panicked. Thoughts of home rushed back. I began internally panicking even more, but what seemed like a nightmare, became a blessing in disguise.
I came back to reality, with the crowd watching in anticipation.
"Linka Moon." I awkwardly smiled.
"Well Linka, you look pretty young, how old are you, little lady?"
Another freeze. "Sixteen! I spat out." It wasn't a total lie, I was almost sixteen at the time.
"Marvelous! Such talent at that age!"
The next few minutes had me lying and telling half truths to a large crowd of people. My eyelids were getting pretty heavy by the time I got back to my table and the man.
"I told you you could do it." The man told me as I placed my guitar back in its case and looked back at the man.
"Yeah, I guess I could… Thanks for the courage, I couldn't have done it without you, sir."
"It was my pleasure, young lady." He laughed a bit. "I remember when those boys were big."
"The Beatles?"
"Remember it like it was yesterday. So much talent, a real shame what happened to John." He sighed in bitter nostalgia.
"Oh yeah, he got shot, didn't he?"
"Yeah, I remember that like it was yesterday, too…"
The two of us stayed silent for a moment before he looked back at me. "Linka Moon, huh?"
I was shocked, he figured out immediately that I had lied.
"Uhh..."
"Look kid, you get to be as old as I am, you know when people are lying. And you, miss, are lying."
"Well, I, uh-"
"Listen, your business is your business, but just know, people can see through lies."
I looked down, ashamed that I had lied to this kind man. "Sorry, sir."
He sighed. Then he opened his mouth again.
"How much money did you win?"
How much money did I win? I took the envelope out and looked at the check.
"Two thousand dollars" Too bad I couldn't cash it in.
"Check?"
"Yeah..." I replied as I continued peering into the envelope.
The man then did the one thing I still don't understand: He whipped out a few stacks of money wrapped with a rubber band.
"Here's twenty thousand dollars, do something smart with it, kid."
"Wh- what?" I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw that much cash- and he was giving ti to me. I looked back at them man as he smiled and began walking away. I picked up the money and caught up to him. "Who are you?" I asked.
He smiled again, patted me on the head, and began walking away again. "Name's Chuck, kid." I then noticed the guitar case in his hand. "I own this club. He said as he walked out the front door. I jogged out front and looked at the sign. It read: Blueberry Hill in bright neon blue letters.
At the time, I'd heard the name Blueberry Hill before, I just couldn't remember where. I did, however, get a hotel room. The next morning I remembered. Giving me the realization that the legendary musician: Chuck Berry, just gave me twenty grand last night because I had good potential.
I wondered if I should stay in St. Louis, that wondering went on for a day, then a few
days, a few weeks, a few weeks tuned into a months, then before I knew it, I owned an apartment under the name 'Linka Moon' and became a regular performer at Blueberry Hill, earning pretty good pay.
I was flying solo for a few years until 2011, when St. Louis' baseball team won the World Series in very dramatic fashion, which is where I wound up meeting a guy named Zack, who was at Blueberry Hill, drinking his disappointment away due to his favorite team, the Texas Rangers, getting beat by the St. Louis Cardinals in the World Series, followed by being kicked out of his band mid-tour.
We became acquainted and became friends, he wound up becoming my roommate when we both started a band. I was the lead guitarist and back-up singer, he was the drummer, and we met another two guys, one was a stoner named Pete, and he played the bass, while our role of frontman was filled by a guy named Kyle.
We called ourselves The Blueberries, as a reference to Chuck Berry (who manages us) and the club we played at and the Irish band that Zack was a fan of; The Cranberries. We got bigger and started gaining traction around 2013 and began touring. Life is pretty great, now.
I never stopped thinking about home, though. I still miss Royal Woods, my family, my friends, Lincoln… Sam. Not a day goes by when I don't think about her. It's 2017, I'm 25, and I'm still thinking about the one that got away. I've been with countless girls since I started living in St. Louis but none of them even compared to Sam. I'm still living with the eternal shame of what I've done. And I will never forgive myself.
For those wondering, a bit of research and double checking went into this chapter. I had to make sure the Blues lost around the time Luna would've made it to St. Louis and I had to make sure Chuck Berry's bar/club had a stage. A lot of the stuff in this chapter is actually based on true facts.
Chuck Berry actually owned (he died in 2017) a bar in St. Louis named Blueberry Hill that has a rather blue interior.
St. Louis has some bad crime rates.
The St. Louis Cardinals did in fact beat the Texas Rangers in the 2011 World Series and it will forever live on as one of my best childhood memories.
The St. Louis Blues were indeed mediocre in the 2006-2007 hockey season.
...
"Why St. Louis?" One might ask, to answer that question, I grew up in a small town outside of St. Louis, so I see it as my home and have always wanted a story of mine to take place there.
I hope to have the next chapter out as soon as possible. until then, have fun reviewing and predicting, folks!