Page 2 of Feral Touch
The stage lights winked out and the cheers exploded. I thought I saw a few dark shadows take their places in front of the instruments. When nothing happened, the cheers slowly died down into a low, hushed rumble.
In one boisterous split second, noise blasted from the speakers and lights flashed on, illuminating the stage. I jumped at the suddenness of it. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my hands against my ears, fighting against the combined force of the band and its screaming fans.
“Oh my god, it’s them!” Jen shrieked. I opened my eyes and lowered my hands to find her beaming face grinning at me. “It’s Feral Silence!”
“You guys ready?!” the lead singer cried into the microphone. The audience shouted their enthusiasm. He grinned, wide-eyed and manic, then turned to the drummer and nodded. The drummer brought his sticks down with a crash and the concert began.
It was just as loud and noisy as I’d feared. I resisted the urge to plant my hands over my ears the entire time. My friends were grinning and shouting and singing along, clearly having the time of their lives. All I wanted to do was sit down and get a cool glass of water.
I had to admit, though, the band was good. Better than good. The lead singer had an impressive range, going from low and growly to high-pitched screams, then switching to smooth and sexy. The drummer, hiding behind his large drum set, had perfect tempo, his sense of timing eerily accurate. The shirtless guitarist wore only a leather jacket, and despite his penchant for flashy shredding, actually had very well-structured solos.
The bassist intrigued me the most.
Although both have four strings and produce deep sounds, bass guitars aren’t technically similar to cellos. Cellos are tuned in fifths while bass guitars are tuned in fourths. I had heard it was possible to string a bass guitar to produce sounds like a cello, but I’d never seen anyone do it before.
I found cellos to have an almost bittersweet sound to them, melancholy yet hopeful. It was one of the reasons I’d been drawn to them as a child. The profound, mournful lows accompanied by uplifting highs ignited something in my chest, something deep and powerful that I couldn't explain.
I never thought I’d find another instrument that could awaken that same feeling inside me—until I heard the bassist from Feral Silence.
Halfway through the set, at the end of a mid-tempo ballad, the rest of the band quieted their instruments and the spotlight shone on the bassist. He was well dressed, almost formal compared to the jeans and leather the rest were wearing. A well-fitting waistcoat over a crisp white collared shirt and a skinny tie suited his tall frame well. I even thought I caught a pocket watch hanging from a chain. Long dark hair covered his face, the distance between us making his features indistinct.
He hunched over his instrument, fingers arranging themselves in complicated positions slowly at first, then with greater and greater speed, the lithe digits of one hand spidering along the fretboard while the other picked at the stings at a rapid-fire pace.
I stood frozen with my heart in my throat as luscious, heavy sounds emitted from the instrument, somber yet oddly thrilling. My breathing sped up in time with the music, my chest tightening with every crescendo.
I’d never been so caught up in a piece of music that wasn’t orchestral or classical. I didn’t think rock music could evoke that kind of reaction in me. Wasn’t it supposed to be all thrashing around and yelling? Truth be told, I’d never actually listened to much rock music to begin with. I did know one thing though—bass guitarists were part of the rhythm section. I didn’t know they also played chords like a guitar.
The bassist strummed one final note before the cymbals crashed down and the song picked up again. He stepped lightly to the edge of the stage, pointing and waving at the audience, narrowly avoiding the grabby hands trying to yank at his clothes. He leaned down and slapped a line of high fives, gliding away on deft feet before he could get pulled down into the mob.
When the lead singer introduced the next song, the audience gasped. The mood in the venue changed, turning almost soft and reverent. It started off like a typical rock song. Then, near the middle, something magical happened.
The bassist pulled an electric violin from out of nowhere, tucked it under his chin and drew his bow across the strings.
I thought I couldn’t get any more impressed, but I was wrong.
I nearly lost all breath as an almost eerie melody echoed sweetly through the concert hall. His body swayed to the music, graceful yet strong as he practically ripped anguished notes from the instrument. The audience was hushed, not a shout to be heard, until he lowered his head and drew the bow across the strings a final time.
Salty tears stung my eyes. I looked down, letting my hair fall over my face so no one could see, and quickly wiped my cheeks with my sleeve. I was enraptured despite myself by a rock star that pulled off a haunting violin solo mid-song. What other talents did this man have?
“He’s. So.Awesome!” Natalie gasped out. She and Jen both had beaming smiles. I examined the people to the back and side of me. Many of them had red-rimmed eyes and were visibly sniffing. I hadn’t been the only one affected by that violin solo.
The concert hall was near-silent for brief moments as the crowd collected themselves before the chanting and cheering started up again. Lots of fans were calling out the bassist’s name. It was a single syllable, but I couldn’t make it out. It almost sounded like the letter N, but that would be a weird name even for a rock star.
“Ivy, are you crying?”
I stuttered a protest, but my wet lashes gave me away. A pair of mischievous grins crossed both my friends’ faces.
“Aww, has the loud, noisy rock music touched your heart?” Jen teased.
I was saved from having to reply by the next song starting up. I wiped my eyes one last time to clear away the tears.
The rest of the concert continued in a normal fashion, the heavy beat of drums and the electric buzzing of a guitar assaulting my ears. The last encore song concluded with moans and groans from the audience, but the lights in the venue came back up so we knew it was over.
“That was so fun!” Jen gushed.
I rubbed at my ears to ease the ringing, but everything still sounded muffled, like it was coming from far away.
“Even better than I’d dreamed.” Natalie nodded emphatically.
