The Band's Called

Disclaimer: Same.

They opened the band room to a drum kit. Tailgate screamed and hugged it. It was taller than him.

A quick call to Rodimus got him a booster chair and pedal extenders for small legs. Swerve and Tailgate both hugged it.

Skids noticed that the cymbals were Rodimus Stars.

Everybody took turns crashing the cymbals, Cyclonus included, until Rodimus showed up an hour late with an energon toddy. "Good morning, everybody!"

Tailgate mumbled, "It's past noon."

"Who's ready to live audition?"

At that, Tailgate bounced. "OH! Yes, me! I've been looking forward to it all day! I practiced!"

"How do you practice?" Rodimus grabbed the closest chair, moving Swerve's drink out of it to sit down. "I'm pretty sure that's the only drum kit on the ship."

"I played Swerve's night stand!" Tailgate bragged. "And before that, it was a table in the bar!"

"How wonderfully low-tech!" Rodimus took a swig. "Any luck finding a band name?"

Skids was about to admit that he hadn't thought about it much, and the silence around him meant no one else had either, but Swerve was already jumping forward. "The band's called 'Tailgate Bangs the Table'!"

"What?!" Tailgate cried. "No it isn't!"

Rewind checked off an invisible list, making Chromedome giggle. "Failed attempt to name the band number two."

"Cameramen aren't supposed to crack wise!" Swerve commanded. "Everybody, places! People are gonna start arriving any minute now, and we have to be tuned up! Cyclonus, you wanna help put up the amps?"

Cyclonus pulled away from his drink. "No."

"Got it! Doin' it myself then."

"This is going to be a treat." Rodimus kicked his feet up onto the stage. "Let the free entertainment begin!"

It was slow, at first. Audition times rolled around, and their first and only entrant was Rung. He smiled and greeted everyone, made some small talk, and complimented Trailcutter on connecting with his crewmates through his love of music. He hadn't come to audition, even, he only agreed to a "live kareoke" after Swerve put the offer on the table. Skids had them cheat a way through "Sweet Dreams Are Made of This" and a rather threadbare "Night Fever" before Chromedome stopped them.

"You're sounding a little hollow now that we're not in Swerve's room."

"Oh gee," Skids said, deadpan. "I never would have guessed we lacked a full wall of sound from one guitar and a stand-up bass and a minibot banging on a night stand."

"I'm just saying, it sounded better when you could feel it, you know?" Chromedome stood up and hurried away. "I'll be right back, love, I need to get something out of the room!"

Trailcutter politely pulled his bulk out of the way of an outgoing Chromedome. "I-I don't quite understand what he's talking about?"

Rewind thought a minute on it. "I think he's more used to listening to all your tracks put together on the editing board than he is to hearing it live."

"We have a band room, a real drum set, a sponsor, AND a sound mixer!" Swerve made a primal pleased noise deep in his throat. "This is amazing! And I didn't even know!"

"Is Chromedome in the habit of editing music without the musician's permission?" Swerve asked.

Rewind shyly tucked a hand behind his head. "I didn't really think about it at the time. He was just so excited to have a project, and frankly, he was in kind of a slump... This really pulled him out of it."

"I uh." Trailcutter's fingers wrung the neck of his base. "I can relate to that. Having something to do at night instead of go to Swerve's- no offense Swerve."

"Hey, it's okay," soothed Swerve. "The bar's my job, but having you guys there after is something to look forward to, y'know? I haven't had this much fun in- in... wow."

Skids fingers twitched against the strings. Rung was still there, watching them all with intense optics. Even Cyclonus seemed strangely invested in the words, not letting his gaze fall from their little group. It was theirs, wasn't it? This little band they'd made their own, and all because he'd decided to shoot down one of Swerve's ideas with style. Who knew something this neat could come out of playful spite?

Chromedome came back with an editing board about as big as Tailgate, both width and height-wise. He spread it out on a stand just behind Trailcutter and hooked it into an amplifier.

"All right, play me the jangly part of 'Dry County', then you play the 'booow papa-papoow' part-"

With a sampling board, they were ready. Chromedome had parts recorded from every session Rewind was present for, and with a little tweaking and a minute to prepare, he had them on a playback loop in time with Tailgate's drumming and in the same key as whatever they needed to play.

Auditioners came in bot by bot, ready for their shot at very very small-time stardom. Some of them had ideas. Inferno nearly broke out into Crazy World of Arthur Brown-style "Fire", fire and all, before Red Alert rushed him off the stage with a fire extinguisher. Mirage sang "Mr. Cellophane" so quietly the band basically played over him. Whirl sang "Bat Out of Hell" with a fervor that rivaled Unicron and finished off his audition by jumping on Rodimus's head. The band would have hired him on the spot if Rodimus hadn't wrestled him out of the band room. Ambulon was maybe the best shoe-in for the position with his soulful "Sexual Healing" before admitting he'd only done it on a dare. He walked out a couple hundred shannix richer. Swerve was verbally irked.

"Come oooon! Why don't we have more auditioners! We're the best band on the Lost Light!"

Tailgate piped up. "We-"

"I know we're the only band Tailgate!"

Tailgate continued. "- should have advertised more."

"... oh."

Rodimus woke up just enough to lean his chair back. Mirage had stayed to watch the auditions roll by after his own, and he'd taken a perch next to Rodimus. "Eh, give it a week. Maybe people are gun shy."

Trailcutter quietly tucked his bass back into its case, lending a shoulder for Tailgate to lean on as he rested. "But you wanted us to start playing live, and soon."

"Oh, a lack of a singer is hardly a reason to not play live," said Mirage. "I found your playing wonderful even without vocal accompaniment. Trailcutter plays a beautiful bass."

"He is, isn't he?" Trailcutter gave the case a little hug. "He's lasted me so long and never lost his tone."

Mirage chuckled, the picture of grace. "I meant figuratively. Oh, I have an idea!" He stood to his feet and waved over the band members: Skids, Trailcutter, Tailgate, and Chromedome. "I want to hire you to play at Visages next poetry night, tomorrow."

"Really?" Skids asked, surprised and already excited. "Wow! A real gig!"

"We get to play live!" Tailgate cheered. "We're gonna earn our Rodimus Stars!"

"Good for you guys!" Chromedome congratulated.

Trailcutter caught him up in a one-armed hug. "Good for you too! We wouldn't have sounded that good if you hadn't brought the mixing board! You're part of the band now!"

"I-I am?!"

Rewind gushed to the side. "Good job, Domey!"

"H-hey, wait a minute!" Swerve jumped in. "What are you doing? He's a business rival! Don't I get a say in this?"

Mirage stopped in thought, mildly surprised. "Why? You aren't part of the band."

Skids was struck with the kind of cold arrow of realization through the spark that he was getting uncomfortably familiar with, and it only double once he saw Swerve's spark break through his visor. He couldn't have been the only one that felt it. He could hear Tailgate whimpering behind him, and when Swerve backed out of the little circle, Trailcutter followed him. "Hey, Swerve, if you don't want us to-"

"Teebs!" Swerve turned on his heel, his usual smile back into place. Skids had the sinking feeling that his 'usual smile' wasn't as genuine as he once thought it was. "Come on! You heard the mech. I'm not in the band! You can't sacrifice a golden opportunity like this! Think of the publicity! What if your future singer's out there in the crowd at Visages?"

"But you'd be sad," Tailgate put it bluntly. "I-I don't want to do that to you. Would any of you?"

Skids clamped a hand down on Tailgate's shoulder. Every bad instinct he had was confirmed at the tight, unnatural tension under his fingers. "Swerve... if you're not okay with this..."

"... I-it's a little bit of a blow, yeah, but... you know what?" Swerve took his hand and squeezed it. "It's been amazing seeing the band grow, even if I'm not in it. You four are gonna go places at this rate... strike that iron! I-I'll see you guys after the set, right?"

Mirage cut in from outside the circle. "Visages closes three hours after your bar."

"Okay... maybe not right after the set. But it'll happen. And Rewind will have footage, right?"

Rewind gave a thumbs up.

"See? I-I'll be fine." Swerve stepped back and out of Skids' grip. "Eventually. Go out there and knock 'em dead! Me and Ten will hold down the fort until you get back."

Tailgate launched forward to hug him, and Skids was tempted to do the same. To think Swerve was proud of seeing the band grow. He could say the same of Swerve.