Scene Immortal Page 6

  The show charged on like this for eighty-five glorious, sweaty minutes. Then came the first break, and sure enough, Arthur, running through the security trench to hand us our passes.

  "Hey guys," he intoned over the din. "Look, I have some messed up news. I only ended up getting clearance for one pass tonight. I'm sorry." Then he looked at both us, solemnly. "Who's goin' back?"

  I was stunned. Numb from the fantastic show, and freaked out over the decision my best friend and I were about to have to make. I should have known, though, there was no decision to be made.

  "Don't even think about it for a second, Kyle... happy birthday. But I won’t wait more than an hour for your sorry ass!" he smiled.

  "Okay," Arthur said, "cool enough. Here ya go man. And um, happy birthday. I'm sorry stuff went down the way it did."

  The look in his face was so sincere, even here amongst the thousand screamers, the smoke, the lights, that I pretty much believed all the good press this guy had gotten.

  "Hey,” I said, "Forget about it. This is... man, this is the best. Thanks. A lot." He handed me a red pass that read "All Access", told me where on my shirt to stick it, and bolted backstage. It was only seconds after that the encore ended and Alphatwyn ripped us through three more songs.

  Perfection. Beautiful people everywhere drenched, half-deaf, euphoric, not wanting to leave, but happy to have this memory to keep with them forever. A bit of paradise.

  Then reality.

  I looked at Josh. He was trying so hard to be cool about the situation, but I could see it was eating at him.

  "Dude... don't wait around for me. I'll call Shae on my cell before I head back and tell her to be on her way in a while. No skin off her back." And then, "God Josh, I am so sorry about this. Do you... I mean, do you want to take my pass?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't call my bluff.

  "Shut up, dorkball. Now go get yourself some Vicky time. Just promise me you'll ask Andy where he shops, because I want a replica of that jacket he was wearing tonight. Now get back there!"

  He wasn't even going to let me try to hesitate. He just winked at me and turned toward the exits. "Goodnight birthday boy... at least for a little while longer!" he shouted back at me as he made his way through the exiting throng.

  And then, there it was. Right in front of me. Something that I knew was going to be one of those turning points in my life. And if I'd stood there a minute longer to think about it, I probably would have chickened out. I was really dorkin' hard about the whole thing, totally pulling a major fanboy freak out. So I just faced the backstage area, and forced myself to walk.

  CHAPTER SIX: WELCOME

  My legs were liquid lead. I was wobbly and heavy, sore from the show, a ringing in my ears making everything seem even more otherworldly than it was.

  Another version of Bullhorn stopped me at the rope that blocked off the backstage area. "Pass please,” then he caught sight of the sticker on the upper right side of my chest. "Oh, alright, go on". He seemed pissed that he didn't get to bust me, that I wasn't just another dumb fan who thought he could outsmart a rent-a-cop.

  Arthur popped up out of nowhere, sliding up to my right hand side.

  "Hey man, I'll take you to the after-show area. I don't think they're allowing anybody in the Green Room, not even All-Accessers, but you've for sure got clearance for everywhere else. And it's a pretty light crowd of fans tonight, maybe only thirty or forty Alphatwyn-heads for you to contend with." Dammit. I wanted to hate my ex's new "beau,” but he was... I dunno, affable? Yeah. He had a good energy about him, and, yes, Kyle Ryan eat your heart out, he was actually a good-looking guy. Ugh and ugh again.

  He stopped, and I followed his actions. "Ah, here we go."

  We had reached a non-descript door that read "private", and just as Arthur put his hand on the knob, it twisted in his hand, and the door swung open.

  A pale, middle-aged guy in a suit looked down at me.

  "You are Kyle Ryan. Please follow me to the green room, where you shall wait, not long at all I should think, for Mister Vandridge and Miss Vixen, unless of course you're dying to meet the 'other three'? No, I didn't think so. Ah, thank you... Arthur, was it? I've got it from here."

  Wait in the green room? For Andy and Vicky? Thank you Arthur I've got it from here?

  I exchanged a very confused look with Arthur, who just kinda shrugged, looked at me as if to say "whatever, have fun," and went about the rest of his post-show routine.

  "Mr. Ryan," Tall and Creepy spoke up again, "Follow me please. I think you shall find the Green Room quite comfortable, and your wait shouldn't be too long. Andrew and Victoria are very anxious to meet you."

  "But how..."

  "Oh, now, now, Mister Ryan, all questions will be answered in due time. For now, suffice it to say, you're a very special fan to the two leaders of Alphatwyn."

  We had traveled left, right, and left again, and finally down a last, lonely hallway, and stopped at an oaken door marked "Artist and Band Green Room." Mr. Creepy slid a key from his right pocket, twisted it with swift agility in the slot on the knob, and opened the door for me. The room was... just... pimp, decked out, all gothy-chic meets swinger swank. Funky chairs, love seat couches, candles, incense burning, electro-lounge music playing, and in the center, a table with every imaginable food and snack known to the western world, including every energy drink you could fathom. There were also four arcade-style video games bleep-blooping on the far wall. I stared in awe.

  "Yes," Creepy looked at me sideways. "As I'd figured, I'm sure you'll be quite comfortable here, while Andrew and Victoria finish up in the other room. They are so looking forward to meeting you."

  Dazed, I sat down in the first chair I came to.

  This must have been something Arthur set up. Come to think of it, yeah, he had looked kinda like he was giving a bad acting performance back in the hallway, all too many shrugs and "whatever" looks. I guessed that Andy and Vicky (so weird to hear them referred to by Mr. Creepy as Andrew and Victoria) would pretend to really be aware of my presence as a mega fan (never mind one without the presence of mind to join the online fan club), sign a few things for me, maybe even listen to me gush for a few minutes, then send me on my way. Fine with me. Hell, if Arthur had set this up, I hoped Jackie married the dude, just so I could be in some kind of close proximity to his awesomeness, and his connections. Well, okay, that wasn't true. That would still break my heart, but... Arthur, yes, was a good guy. I just couldn't help still feeling that I should be in his place, even sitting here in this room. God, did that make me horrible? Or just human?

  I started to relax into the atmosphere of the room. I decided to quit trying to figure out exactly what I was doing here, and just enjoy the experience. Josh was always encouraging me to "be present in every moment," and if there was ever a moment I wanted to live fully aware, it was this. So I did. And I actually started to chill a bit. The loungey electronic song that piped through the speakers crept into my ears, the light smell of the incense began to unknot the muscles of my stiff neck and shoulders, and the comfy chair seemed to suck me an inch or two further down into its embrace.

  As the sweat on my body dried, and the ringing in my ears started to recede, my state altered. Now, instead of nervousness, or anticipation, I just felt heady. Fuzzy. Strange. The scent from the incense grew stronger, the music more seductive, and the light in the room seemed to dim. Maybe my body was just giving in to the exhaustion, finally, of the past couple of months, and the concert had been the catalyst in my letting go. A true... catharsis. "Crestfallen... catalyst...catharsis... I love 'c-words'," I mumbled to myself. I was acting like a stoner, a pseudo-philosophical pothead, talking aloud to myself about 'c-words'. I started to believe something may very well be wrong. Then it hit me.

  Yes.

  This was like a slow-motion version of that feeling I got whenever the slithery shadow-thing had come and gone, first in the subdivision graveyard, and then again in my room. The only difference was the absence of the
chill that ran through my body. On the contrary, I felt totally toasty, like I had just gotten a light buzz on. The fact that I hadn't been buzzed in months made the feeling all-the-more sharp to my senses, as the warmth and my surroundings continued to envelop me.

  Then, with swiftness and barely a sound, the door opened.

  Oh my God.

  To my right, I could look up from the chair to the door's threshold, and there, bathed in fluorescent light from the hallway outside, were Andy Vein and Vicky Vixon.

  Andy let Vicky slide in first, like a gentleman, then shut the door behind them, leaving all three of us in the dim light of the transformed Artist Green Room of Westridge Auditorium.

  Now, relaxed and almost stoned on the atmosphere as I was, I felt my heart rate increase, could actually feel the little hammer behind my left pectoral start to rev up.

  In the silkiest voice I'd ever heard speak, Andy Vein looked down at me with great warmth in his eyes and said, "Hello Kyle. Victoria and I are very honored to meet you."

  Vicky just looked at me and nodded, gracefully.

  Andy extended his hand. I stood to shake it, but felt woozy, and had to sit back down before the world went too wonky around me.

  "No, no," Andy cooed. "No need to stand. We are not royalty. Just shake my hand, that's all. You really have no idea how fantastic it is to meet you."

  It took me a second to realize that I felt like he was acting, performing, still on stage, using that heightened speech, which when combined with his very heightened sense of style, made him seem like an Aristocrat turned rock star, instead of your everyday variety hotel-trashing, binge-drinking rock and roll brat. And yeah, up close like this, to my total shock, I had to say he did look quite a bit like me. The dark blond hair, the hard blue eyes, kinda short, but clearly ripped to hell. But acting or not, I took his hand into what I hoped would come across as a masculine, firm shake.

  The connection was electric. As soon as his hand touched mine, a thousand tiny lightning bolts shot up through my arm and into my head. My body shuddered. He released my hand, and I sat full-back in the chair again, breathing heavy. What the hell was that?

  "Sorry," he said. "I just like to establish contact upon greeting, and I often forget to, ah... turn down the volume, shall we say, before a connection is made. You were just feeling some of my energy, chi, if you will, whatever. It's all the same. Your friend Josh knows much about all of this, and I'm sure has told you."

  "Yeah," was all I could manage.

  Josh did talk about Chi, Life Force, Universal Energy, Auras, all those things, all the time. He was very big on the Spirituality and energy tip, even casting what he called "Nature Spells" to heighten his own awareness of life around him, and constantly reading up on all the latest New Age phenomena.

  But wait.

  "How do you know about Josh?... How do you know about me, in fact? This is all Arthur, right? My speech was slow, low, and on the verge of slurry. I didn't sound like myself, and I didn't like it. I did, however, love staring into Andy's eyes, and catching glimpses of Vicky, as she worked swiftly with something at the table behind Andy. She was obviously hungry, or very thirsty, because she was fast and determined about how she worked with whatever refreshments the venue had laid out for the band.

  The band...

  "Where are the other guys from the band?"

  "So many questions, young Kyle... And what, you're not happy to meet the two of us?"

  "No, oh God, I mean, I've dreamed of this...but."

  "Shh. I'll explain it all, shortly. Well, maybe not all, but enough."

  Dammit Arthur, I thought. You really went all out with this, huh?

  What kind of clout did he have with the band anyway?

  Andy sat on the armrest of the chair I was in, smiling down at me. He was graceful, at ease, and something about his face looked too perfect. Did I actually look like this guy? Maybe, but without the refinement of a little bit of age. Wisdom, I guess. There were similarities, but he definitely had something I didn't.

  Victoria finally stopped whatever she had been doing, and exchanged a glance with Andy.

  "The truth is, Kyle," Andy spoke, "Vicky and I would like to talk with you. Make a proposal, as it were. Call it, a reward for being such a unique fan. Somebody who truly appreciates us, and yet has had the decency not be some message board-obsessed, email-bombarding, stalkerish fanboy. Your desire for, and appreciation of our music has called to us over the miles."

  "It has?... A proposal?" I was drunk on the surreal nature of the new direction of the night.

  "Shh," Vicky chided. "Just listen, Kyle." Her voice was beautiful. Perfect. And, I kept noticing with an ache in my gut, she was an absolute reflection of my Jackie Bird. Oh Jackie, I wish I could share this with you... God I missed her. Still.

  I blinked, and the two of them were before me, standing like a pair of lovers, incredibly hot, and pale as the moon. Whether it was a trick of the eye, or something in the air, I didn't know, and was starting not to care, but somehow they had both moved from their respective positions to directly in front of me. Looking down at me. Staring.

  "To get down to brass tacks, Kyle," Andy said. "We wish to offer you something. A proposal, as I said."

  "Uh huh..." I replied.

  "We want to take it all away from you. To relieve you of your burden."

  "My...yes." I knew exactly what he meant. The heartache, the complete and cold loss of my parents, all the tension I had over worrying for Shannon, and her having to take so much on at such a young age.

  "Yes, all of that Kyle. All of that and more. So much troubles you. So much pulls you in different directions, tugging at your heart. And yet, you always have a smile for the world. A brave face. You use your charm and charisma to dazzle people, to help them forget their own troubles..."

  "The Scene kids... Yeah. Like to make 'em laugh... They don't do a lot of that."

  Andy chuckled warmly.

  "No, no they certainly don't. But even through your darkest days, you were there, weren't you? Chatting people up, lifting their spirits, and maybe... trying to distract yourself, covering up how you really felt?"

  "Oh... yes. Completely." In fact, I was more selfish than giving, if the truth were to come out.

  "No, no Kyle. Not selfish. Just...human."

  I hadn't said anything about being selfish. Twice he had read my thoughts. Ha, tricky rock star. My head was swimming with the complete absurdity of the situation.

  "We wish to take your pain away, Kyle, but you have to agree that you want the same thing."

  And then, release. I felt it well up from the bottom of my stomach and move up to my face, making me hot, flush, and teary. Then, softly at first, I started to cry. And cry. The crying turned to sobbing, and the sobs turned into heaves of pain. I was violently wracked with sadness, and Vicky was at my side, her hand stroking my hair. Andrew Vandridge knelt before me.

  "There, there," he said.

  "Oh yes... please," I said. What was going on? It felt like some kinda new age therapy, something Josh would have drug me to, probably, had I continued with the funk I was in. Except this, like so many of those things that I rejected as complete BS, felt totally... sincere. Real. Like it actually was helping me, draining me of the toxins of my sorrow. A wound had been lanced, and the sorrow was flowing like a river through my tears. Talk about more than I'd bargained for out of a backstage pass. Damn.

  "It's alright, Kyle. It will only get better and better. Just say the word and we'll take it away. Just know that with sweet release comes a price."

  I was crazy with the detox process and through sobs I cried, "I don't give a shit about any price! I just want all this gone! Finally! I'm so damn tired of being that nice guy with cool hair and the perfect outfits that just happens to be hiding all his real feelings," I choked out. I sounded stupid as hell, vain, and whiny, but I didn't care. "Hell, even when I 'wasn't myself', I was still more friggin' chipper than half the kids at my school. And what had
they been through to make them so damn mopey!"

  "That's right Kyle!" Andrew (Andy Vain, don't forget, Andy Vein is who he is to you, but...?) coaxed and coached. "Let it out! Tell me you want it gone! I can't take it away unless you really want me to! You may not be fond of the method at first, but I can take away your pain!"

  "I DON'T CARE HOW YOU DO IT!" I screamed. "Just please," I took it down several notches, "... do it. I don't know who in the hell you guys actually are, other than two people I see as ideals... or... idols, whatever (dammit I was confused), but ever since I came in here I started to calm down. To relax, in spite of... like, how totally nervous I was about meeting you. All I knew before is I would have done anything to meet you, but now... I feel like... you're healing me or some crap. God, maybe I am that much of a pathetic fan, that being around you guys is destroying all my stress." I sniffed, like a kid, snot starting to run from my nose. In my delirium I actually worried for a flash if my makeup was staying on. I let out a hysterical chuckle. Josh had been right. All the happiness had been an act. I had buried everything under the idea of the concert and this meeting with the band, thinking it would solve all my problems, but here they all were, crashing in on me all at once while I sat in a room with two beautiful strangers... who somehow did make me feel better. What was going on?

  I spoke, with great effort, "Whatever you've started, finish it. Just please don't let this be some big, dumb joke you're in on with Arthur. Please let this be real." But I already knew, whatever this was, was very real. It didn't make sense. But it was as real as the skin that covered my bones. And whatever was going on, I was finally, finally healing, and it felt like nothing else in my life ever had. And... I wanted more. It had to be complete. I'd tasted a partial reprieve from the hurt, and now I needed it destroyed totally.