Chapter 4: The Demon's Song

Disclaimer: The song is not mine. I heard it on America's Got Talent and the movie Shrek and I thought it was amazing.

As soon as the shows over, I put my bags in my car and head to my hotel. I want to get to my room and change into something nice for the bar. I hope Chris shows up because I want to talk to him. I made a bad impression but I won't let it affect what little friendship we may have. Deciding on my black tank top, black mini skirt, and pink converse I change into it. I just want to look cute but still look tough. I lock my door and head to the bar.

The first thing I notice when I enter the bar is a stage set up with a stool and a microphone stand. The second thing I notice is the large group up front. Kofi, Mickie, Mark, Evan, Kelly, and Primo are sitting at two tables pushed together and talking rather loudly. I get to the front and pull up a chair next to Evan. "Meghan," Evan smiles.

"Hey, what I miss?"

"Not much. Primo beat Kofi in an arm wrestling match and Mark beat them both," he laughs, "Want me to buy you something to drink. They have beer, whiskey, daq-"

"Diet Pepsi." I interject.

He looks at me, "Don't you drink? Or are you straight-edged to?'

"I'm 19." I softly say. I didn't want people to know my age for the reason of whats about to happen next. The entire group turns to look at me like I'm an animal in their own personal menagerie.

"Wow, I knew you were young but I didn't think that you were that young." Kelly smiles.

"Look can we-"

"I mean, I just turned 21 and Evan turned 20 a few months ago." Kelly smiles again.

I instantly perk up and smile, "Really?"

Evan nods, "Yeah. I was 18 when I started on Raw."

I smile, "Why'd you get into it so young?"

He looks away from me and gets suspiciously quiet. I suddenly make a sort of connection. Whatever's making Evan so quiet right now is what he's hiding underneath his childish and shy shell. Breaking the quiet, Mark says, "Who's singing tonight? I mean the stage is obviously set up for a musician."

I look away from Evan and at Mark, "No idea. Just as long as it's not country."

Mickie gasps and puts a hand to her chest, "You don't like country?"

"Not really. I'm more of a punk rock type of girl though my guilty pleasure is definitely jazz and blues."

"This is my type of girl!" Mark laughs.

The single spot light on the stage goes up and I'm shocked by what I see. Walking onto the stage, holding an acoustic guitar, is Chris Jericho. He sits down on the stool and looks out over the audience. "What's he doing up there?" I ask, leaning over to Evan.

"Chris had his own band for a while and after Raw when we went out his band would sometimes play. You've heard of the band Fozzy right?"

I nod my head. I love Fozzy, especially the song Big City Nights. I didn't know Chris was the lead singer. "I like Fozzy."

"Well, he wants a solo career."

I turn my attention to the stage. Chris is wearing a black rocker tee under a leather jacket with light blue jeans. After a few warm-ups, Chris wets his lips and leans in to sing:

I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Right there, my heart melts in my chest. As good as he is at hard rock, he's even better at this. His voice is soft, pure even. He's interesting to listen to.

Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty
in the moonlight
overthrew you
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne,
she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

For some reason, I feel something from him. A radiating kindness that starts in the plucking of the guitar strings and ends in his soul. I smile and take sip of my Diet Pepsi.

Maybe I've been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Then I see it. A few tears are running down his face. This song is coming from his hear t and he's singing about the wife he lost. I want to hold Chris in my arms. To tell him it's okay and I'm here for him. I shake my head. No, I can't think like that. Chris doesn't like me. I couldn't like him.

There was a time you'd let me know
What's real and going on below
But now you never show it to me do you?
Remember when I moved in you?
The holy dark was moving too
And every breath we drew was hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

I look over at Evan. He's smiling and tears are also moving down his face. I'm beginning to think that what he's hiding underneath his friendly demeanor also has to do with a woman. But I'm almost certain it doesn't have to do with a wife. He's to young to have been married and divorced. It's something though.

Maybe there's a God above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
It's not a cry you can hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

As he finishes his song I realize there are tears stinging my eyes. His song was so emotional. I wipe my eyes as Chris leaves the stage. Maybe there's a chance of appealing to the tortured soul in him.