Page 163 of Resurrection
She laughs then, a beautiful sound. I pull her in, the hospital lights casting long, scattered shadows across the terrace as we face this new beginning, as we choose each other over the past, over everything.
And then I seal it with a kiss.
38TYLER [THE PAST]
It’d beensix hours since I’d gotten the call.
And although the official press release had come out thirty minutes ago, I still couldn’t believe it was happening. The adrenaline had me jittery, and the idea of stepping into Chance Hollowell’s shoes was intimidating. I knew all his solos. I could imitate every chord he ever played, but merely thinking about being the guy on a poster next to his bandmates had my gut twisting with dread.
I’d spent the entire afternoon with my head a mess, going back and forth between giddy excitement and terrified doubt. By the time evening rolled around, I knew I needed a drink. Or twenty.
My buddies and I packed the bar we’d been frequenting on Sunset. This was one of those places that was camouflaged on the outside—gray walls and a tiny neon sign above the door. A couple of security guards stood at the entrance. The inside was very different. Celebs of all sorts came in and out through the rear. Drinks were expensive and stiff, and the music was loud enough to blow the place to pieces.
In the few years I’d lived in LA, I’d met a lot of people. That’s what happened when you tried to hustle like I did. Friends were everywhere, screaming my name and throwing shots.
My phone lit up with congratulations.
It was like I’d been living a ghost life until now. After years of playing random gigs, drifting from one small band to another, the audition for The Deviant was a kick to the chest. The chance of a lifetime.
Their music defined an era. I knew how big they were, how huge Chancehad been. Replacing him would be stepping into rock history. If I pulled it off, if I didn’t screw it up, it would mean I’d finally made it.
"You did it, man!" Someone handed me another shot. I couldn’t see who it was over the crowd, but I downed it anyway. I was still hoarse from the first round.
"That’s some serious shit!" I said.
"It’s happening, dude. You’re here."
"Finally!" Another drink.
I gulped it down. I didn’t even know what it was.
They were right.It was happening. After years of struggle and waiting and grinding, it was really happening.
I felt like I had just learned to play my first song. I felt like I was floating.
The bar kept getting more crowded. The neon signs hummed so hard, I thought they’d short out. I leaned against a pool table, watching the insane mix of bodies and sweat and noise, and wondered if this was the moment I’d been waiting for my entire life.
Eventually, the world became a twirling haze. I wanted it to slow down so I could catch my breath. I didn’t think it would.
By the time midnight rolled around, I was starting to feel tired.
I shoved my way through the masses, breathless and drunk.
"Hey, Brady!" A hand landed on my shoulder, spinning me around.
It was Curtis, a buddy I used to play with before he got hooked on bad gigs and bad drugs. He had a huge grin on his face, as if I’d given him something he couldn’t even imagine. "Congrats, dude. Seriously. This is huge."
"Thanks," I said, slapping his hand. He smelled like tequila and two-day-old desperation, but he was happy for me. I could see that in his eyes, in the way he looked at me, in the way everyone did tonight.
"Don’t forget the little guys when you’re out there on the road with the big dogs, huh?"
"Nonsense. We all come from the same place."
"Let me buy you a drink," he offered.
We hit the bar again. The bartender handed me a shot, and I downed it. There was no way to catch up to this moment. It was leaving me in the dust.
My head spun faster, and my vision blacked out from time to time. I lost track of time, of people, of my own voice as I shouted and sang along with the familiar tune that was roaring through the crammed space.
