Fiction Outtake: Show Day

Been following the saga of Springer? Why not?

Since it’s the Monday of Hanukkah, that means it’s the day of the now annual Musical Hanukkah Celebration, a fund-raiser thrown by our friends in the fictional band ShapeShifter. Read on; links to catch up will be at the bottom..

Mitchell rolled over and stretched, unsurpised that Kerri was already gone. She liked to get up at what she called normal hours. He, of course, kept a rock star’s hours.

That meant it was noon, or near enough to it to count. Five hours until he had to be at the venue, and tonight was a doozy of a show. The second annual Musical Hanukkah Celebration. Fifty wanna-bes up on stage with the band, tripping on everything, fucking with his and Eric’s foot pedals, trying to steal their picks.

Amazing that last year, it had been a shitload of fun.

Most of the credit for that had to go to the stage crew who’d stepped up and worked without pay — like they’d be doing this year, too. The band had found some nice ways to say thanks, even going so far for a few of the thicker skulls as to make calls directly to get them some extra work. Mitchell had heard that one had found his calling and was sticking around as a cotton tech. Not bad for someone who hadn’t seemed able to tell a size three-x from a small.

Mitchell finished stretching and got up. No need to shower on a show day. No need to do much, really, on a show day. Just press, and that had all been done already. There’d be no more until things wrapped up early tomorrow morning. Then it’d be three solid days of talking about how it had gone.

Kerri wasn’t in the kitchen. When he finished two toasted bagels with cream cheese and strawberry jelly, an orange, and a handful of potato chips, Mitchell poked his head in the garage, but both Kerri’s Jeep and bike were there. That meant she was probably up in her studio; Mitchell wondered if she’d want some company.

He grabbed his new guitar by the neck and carried it up to the third floor. “Hey.”

She looked up from her artist table thingie. “Hey, yourself. Getting pysched?”

He shrugged. “Too early for that.” It would be a great night; too many people had too much to prove for it to be any other way. The wanna-bes who’d be jamming with the band were all trying to be good enough to get the band’s attention. The crew and club staff would all be tying to earn jobs with the band. The fans had to prove they were the band’s best fans. Everyone would be at their best, and that alone would make it a great night.

He reminded himself it was too early to think about it. Thinking would only get him up for what was to come, too, and there was no way he could maintain that level of adrenaline for five hours. Better to be mellow now and let it kick in when they got to the club.

“Are you going to stand there all day?”

He shrugged. What else did he have to do with himself? He sure as shit wasn’t going to go down into his little room and focus on band shit.

Kerri sighed, and he knew that was a signal to sit down in his usual chair by the window and make some music for her to work by. Quietly, so he didn’t break her concentration, but after this many years with her, he knew what the rules were. Besides, fun things often happened when he distracted her.

Still, though, five couldn’t arrive fast enough, and then things would get rolling. Because it was a benefit, it’d be crazy and chaotic and barely in control, and it’d make these five hours seem like paradise.

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The whole idea for the Musical Hanukkah Celebration began here. Springer’s story began here and continues here. And here are more facts about the event.