Page 71 of Disharmony

“The Lionhearts?” Ripper growls.

“You know, the pop jerks that are our camp mentors this year…”

“Lucky you,” Ripper mutters sarcastically. “Who knew Zach Royal could be so helpful?”

Zed brushes off his comment and turns to Ripper. “Maybe your new groupie is onto something.”

“Ash isn’t a groupie,” Ripper snarls at him. There’s tension between them, but I sense there’s more going on than a disagreement over my comments. “What do you think, Venom?”

Venom has stayed quiet throughout the conversation. His hands are balled in his lap, lost in his thoughts.

“I’m sorry, Venom. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.” I smile apologetically. “You don’t have to. It’s only a suggestion.”

“I’ll try it,” he mumbles finally, then clears his throat. “But I’m out of practice.”

“If Zach Royal has good suggestions, then maybe we’ll see what your new muse has got to offer?” Zed mocks as the three of them file back into the live room. Venom shoves him playfully.

“Can you hear us, Ash?” Ripper asks as I put the headphones on again.

I nod.

“You can speak back,” he says. “There’s a built-in mic, and we can hear you through the speakers.”

“Um… yeah,” I say, then salute. “Over and out.”

Venom snorts, and I swish my hair over my face to disguise my blush. I must look like a total amateur.

“From the top?” Zed says.

Ripper taps his drumsticks together three times, then they start.

twenty-three

Venom

My throat tightens like it’s closing.

It’s been years since I’ve sang anything. It’s not that I don’t enjoy singing because I do… when I’m alone in the shower.

It’s different singing for the Basilisks than it is the Lionhearts. In the Lionhearts, Zach takes most of the heat. I’m no more than a backup vocalist. Those songs mean nothing, but the Basilisks mean everything.

Zed shoots me a questioning look before we start, and I know what he’s asking. He was there the night that almost stopped me singing forever. A gig that went wrong. A night I struggle not to relive whenever I get on the stage. The Basilisks weren’t fully formed then. I was playing at a metal open-mic night in a questionable venue and invited my two new Camp Harmony friends to join me. The crowd was small and the lighting terrible, so no one there would recognize us now… or, if they did, they wouldn’t want to speak about it after what happened.

An overwhelming amount of hate exists in the world. I’d been filled with hope when I showed up to play that fateful night. Halfway through my performance, an angry mob descended, and a violent fight resulted in me getting stabbed and developing the crushing PTSD I’ve struggled to move past. That’s why I don’t really sing and why my vocals were cut from our first album. Singing in front of my bandmates is different than a live audience.

I nod curtly, hoping Zed understands it means I’m ready.

Ripper is already poised, not thinking of anything other than how he can impress Ash. I’ve never seen him so eager to please before.

The song starts, and Zed is killing it as usual. My heart pounds as my lines approach, but I see her face through the glass and she smiles, which calms me. Knowing she wants to hear my voice helps dissipate my hesitation, and I step in to sing.

“I’m not afraid to break down the walls,

The walls of steel and wire,

Walls built to be torn down.”

Holy fuck, I did it… and she’s right. It works better.

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