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My Famous Band C3 Big Break
🕑 Added 2024-05-29 14:46:29 +0000 UTCWhat I've Done - Linkin Park
Zombie - The Cranberries
---
As Enoch stepped through the threshold of Garfield High's hallowed halls, a leather satchel slung over his shoulder, whispers rustled through the throng of students like leaves in the autumn wind. "That's Enoch!" the girls cooed, voices hushed but far from discreet. "The rock star himself!"
Enoch, the very image of modesty, flashed a roguish grin as he sauntered down the hallway, every step exuding the confidence of one who knew he'd claimed the spotlight as the victor in yesterday's band competition. The all-boys' "Decibel Devils" had deafened their competition, and the adulation was still ringing in his ears. He tipped his cap to his admirers, waving off their questions like pesky gnats.
"Enoch, would you be so kind as to be mine acquaintance?" one wide-eyed lass inquired, batting her lashes.
"And do tell, sir, do you have a fair maiden to call your own?" another chimed in, breathless with anticipation.
Enoch offered a gracious bow in response, but remained tight-lipped about his personal affairs. At last, he reached his destination, and the clattering chatter died down as the teacher's imposing figure darkened the doorway, ushering in a semblance of order.
"Good day, class," the teacher droned, commanding their rapt attention. Enoch took his seat, relieved for the reprieve from the barrage of female attention.
As the school day drew to a close, Enoch and his rotund friend, Jason, waddled their way to the dining hall. A mix of aromas wafted through the air, ranging from the enticing scent of freshly baked pastries to the less than appetizing stench of overcooked cabbage. Enoch and Jason procured their meager fare and settled at a secluded table, away from the prying eyes of their adoring fans.
"Enoch, I don't know how you do it," Jason lamented between bites of his sandwich, a solitary pickle hanging from his moustache. "Yesterday's performance was a team effort, and yet, here you are, basking in all the glory!"
Enoch couldn't help but chuckle. "We're in this together, old chap. Besides, your time will come."
Jason looked about as convinced as a nanny goat in a den of foxes, but he conceded with a sigh. "I suppose you're right."
Jason's brows furrowed, his expression as sour as the lemonade he sipped. "Anyway, today's practice at my garage, don't be late."
Enoch nodded. "Aye, aye, Captain. I'll be there on the double."
Normally, the "Decibel Devils" practiced in the shabby confines of their school's music room, but the weekends and special occasions called for a change of scenery.
Today, it was Jason's turn to host the cacophony.
After the final bell rang, the duo gathered their things and headed towards their respective abodes.
***
Upon arriving home, the heavenly aroma of his mother's cooking greeted Enoch like an old friend. "Mum, you've outdone yourself again!" he said, grinning from ear to ear.
Emma, her apron stained but her smile as warm as ever, beamed. "How was school, my dear?"
Enoch's eyes twinkled with pride. "Absolutely smashing! Since my club won the band competition, I've become quite the talk of the town, I'm afraid."
"Oh, how marvelous!" she gushed, pouring him a glass of lemonade. "Tell me more!"
Enoch recounted the day's events, leaving no stone unturned, before casually adding, "Oh, by the way, we've a practice at Jason's today. We'll be rehearsing in his garage."
"Very well, just be safe," Emma reminded him, patting him on the head fondly. "And... Enoch?"
"Yes, mum?"
"Are you quite certain this rock 'n' roll business is what you want to pursue?"
Enoch's gaze turned serious, determination in his eyes. "I'm positive, mum. It's in me blood, it is."
Her expression softened. "Very well, then. As long as it makes you happy, I'll be right behind you, applauding from the front row."
---
As Enoch neared Jason's abode, he spotted the rest of the "Decibel Devils" huddled outside, expressions glummer than a rainy day in November.
Even the usually buoyant Angel seemed downcast. "Well, look who's here—the golden boy himself," she snarked, her words dripping with equal parts awe and ire.
"What's the matter, chaps?" he asked, brows furrowed.
Jonas, a wry smile on his face, piped up. "Well, old chap, it seems our fearless leader's in a bit of a pickle."
"A pickle, eh?" Enoch raised an eyebrow. "Care to elaborate?"
Bryan sighed, running a hand through his unkempt hair. "Jason's dad caught wind of Jason's little 'hobby' and he's none too pleased."
Enoch's heart sank. "Blimey, what's gotten into him all of a sudden?"
Ryan filled in the blanks, "Apparently, the old man's got his heart set on Jason following in his footsteps. Microsoft, IBM, or some such nonsense."
Enoch's jaw went slack. "But… but Jason loves music! It's his everything!"
Angel shrugged. "Tough luck, mate. Parents, eh? They only want the best for us, even if it means crushing our dreams."
"Seattle's full of tech nerds, innit?" Elena added. "They don't get our kind of passion, do they?"
As the group commiserated, the front door of Jason's house flew open with a bang.
Jason, red-faced and visibly upset, stormed out, slamming the door shut behind him. "I'm leaving, and I'm not coming back!" he shouted over his shoulder.
"Don't you come back until you've come to your senses, young man!" came the booming retort from within.
Jason, shoulders slumped, trudged towards his bandmates. "Gents, lass, I'm sorry, but it seems we'll have to find another venue for our soiree."
Jonas, ever the optimist, patted him on the back. "Chin up, old chap. We've got this covered." He gestured at his trusty van, a relic from the 80s but still kicking. "Bryan's garage it is, then. Everyone hop in!"
Enoch clapped Jason's shoulder. "Don't you worry, mate. We've got your back, thick and thin."
Jason managed a shaky grin. "Thanks, mates. I owe you one."
In no time at all, they were packed like sardines in Jonas's van, careening towards Bryan's abode. This setback would not deter them from their dreams. Music was in their bones, and no overbearing parent could extinguish their flame.
As the rickety van chugged to a stop in front of Bryan's house, the warm glow of the porch light cast a welcoming glow. Before they could even ring the bell, the door swung open, revealing none other than Bryan's mother, Victoria.
"Welcome, welcome, lads and lass!" she greeted them with open arms. "No need to be shy, come right in."
Bryan's cheeks flushed crimson. "Mum, please..."
Jonas nudged him playfully. "There's nothing to be 'shy' about, mate!" he winked at the others, who snickered.
Ryan piped up. "We're just glad you've got a cool mum, Bryan. She gets us, you know?"
Enoch nodded in agreement. "Indeed, your mum's a breath of fresh air. More parents should be like her, I daresay."
Victoria beamed, "Oh, my stars, you've got a fine group of mates, Bryan!"
Meanwhile, Bernardo, his father, piped up. "Say, if you're practicing in the garage, could an old man watch?"
Jonas answered for their reluctant friend. "Of course, sir! The more the merrier!"
Victoria clapped her hands together. "I'm in, too! Can't wait to see our little rockstars in action!"
Jonas couldn't resist to say. "Wait till you hear our lead vocalist, then. None other than this here whippersnapper, Enoch Comly!"
Bernardo adjusted his specs, his bushy eyebrows shooting up. "Him? But he's just a wee lad!"
"That's what makes him so bloody amazing, uncle," Ryan interjected, thumping Enoch on the back.
Enoch, blushing from all the attention, extended a hand. "Pleasure to meet you, sir. I'm Enoch Comly."
Bernardo shook his hand, a twinkle in his eye. "Well, Enoch Comly," he said, "I'm Bernardo, and it's a pleasure. Can't wait to hear what you've got in store for us."
As they munched on Victoria's homemade goodies, Enoch and the others couldn't help but notice the warmth and support exuding from Bryan's parents. Meanwhile, Jason couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy, longing for such understanding from his own father.
Once the snacks were devoured, they made their way to the spacious garage, which Bernardo had thoughtfully cleared out for them, even shifting his prized muscle car to make room. They unloaded their gear from the van and got to work, setting up their instruments and microphones.
"All set, lads?" Bernardo asked, a mix of pride and curiosity in his voice.
"We're as ready as we'll ever be, sir," Jonas quipped.
Victoria, ever the proud mum, gave her son a little push. "Don't you disappoint your old man, Bryan. He's got quite the ear for music, you know."
Bernardo chuckled, "That's right, son. No pressure, eh?"
Bryan turned tomato red, but there was a glint of determination in his eyes. "Don't you worry, Dad. We'll show you what we're made of."
The garage doors were pulled shut, sealing them in their sonic fortress.
As the band members took their positions, Jonas sat behind the drums and addressed the group. "Alright, lads and lass, let's give it a go. This is the song our very own Enoch here has composed for us." The others nodded in anticipation, their instruments at the ready.
Enoch stepped forward, a guitar slung over his shoulder, flanked by Jason, the supporting vocalist, his microphone in hand. Victoria cheered them on. "Give 'em a good show, boys!"
With a nod, the band began their rehearsed melody. Ryan plucked the bass guitar strings, Angel strummed the rhythm guitar, and Elena's fingers danced over the piano keys. Jonas kept the beat on the drums, while Bryan experimented with a propeller-like contraption that resembled a victrola.
The sound produced by the peculiar instrument was unlike anything the era had heard before. Victoria and Bernardo was Transfixed, their jaws agape. Only Enoch and his bandmates knew this was just the beginning of something groundbreaking.
It was none other than the "turntable," and it was Enoch who introduced it to the group.
Enoch strummed the chords on his guitar, the unfamiliar sound of the turntable blending into the mix, and all of a sudden, the garage was alight with a new kind of music.
The moment the band struck the first chord, Bryan's parents, Bernardo and Victoria, were captivated. The unconventional instrumentation, coupled with the haunting melody, was unlike anything they'd ever heard.
Enoch strummed his guitar, his voice soaring through the garage as he sang the opening lines:
"In this farewell,
There's no blood, there's no alibi
'Cause I've drawn regret,
From the truth of a thousand lies"
Bernardo, a music aficionado, could see that this song was going to be something special. Victoria, on the other hand, was entranced by the way her son's playing melded seamlessly with the soundtrack.
Jason's voice joined in, harmonizing with Enoch's as they sang:
"So let mercy come and wash away,
These tears that I've shed for yesterday."
Enoch's fingers danced over the guitar strings, adding depth and emotion to the already vibrant soundtrack.
The turntable's scratches and beats blended seamlessly with the guitars, bass, and drums, creating a symphony that transcended time.
Enoch's voice rang out, a defiant cry that echoed the sentiments of his peers. "What I've done," he belted out, his young voice brimming with passion and heartache, "I'll face myself, to cross out what I've become, erase myself, and let go of what I've done!" The raw emotion in his words sent chills down Bernardo's spine.
Bernardo's eyes widened as he watched the 13-year-old boy dominate the room with his charismatic stage presence. He'd never seen such maturity and depth in one so young.
Enoch's voice soared again, "Put to rest. What you thought of me. While I clean this slate. With the hands of uncertainty."
The chorus, a rallying cry for the disillusioned youth, resonated with the very walls of the garage. Jason joined in, their harmonies a balm to the turbulent emotions stirred by Enoch's fiery delivery.
"What I've done," he belted out once more, "I'll face myself, to cross out what I've become, to cross out what I've become, erase myself, and let go of what I've done!"
As the band continued to play, Elena couldn't help but stare at Enoch, her heart skipping a beat with every note he belted out. If only he were a bit older, she thought to herself, a playful smile tugging at her lips.
Meanwhile, Angel, on the other hand, couldn't tear her eyes away from the talented singer. A warmth blossomed in her chest as she watched him pour his soul into the mic. He's so cool, she thought, blushing slightly.
Enoch's voice reverberated through the garage: "For what I've done, I start again. And whatever pain may come, today this ends, I'm forgiving..."
Bernardo and Victoria couldn't help but nod their heads to the infectious beat, the powerhouse performance leaving them awestruck.
Enoch's cries of "What I've done!" and "Forgiving what I've done!" intertwined with Jason's harmonized "Na-na, na, na, na-na, na, Na-na, na, na, na-na, na, na," sent shivers down their spines.
As the final chords faded, the room erupted into applause. Victoria and Bernardo leaped to their feet, unable to contain their enthusiasm any longer.
"Very good! Very good!" Bernardo praised, his eyes alight with pride. He turned to Enoch, a smile creasing his weathered features. "You, Enoch, you've got a talent there, lad. A real talent."
Enoch blushed, his cheeks flushing crimson. "Thank you, sir," he managed, a shy smile playing on his lips.
---
After the adrenaline-fueled practice at Bryan's, Enoch knew he needed to work.
He made his way to the local dive bar, a usual haunt for up-and-coming bands.
Watching the bands perform, he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. He dreamed one day, it'd be him and his bandmates up there, the center of attention.
For now, he'd settle for being the best errand boy the bar had ever seen.
After a long shift of ferrying drinks and wiping down sticky countertops, Enoch finally arrived home.
His mother, Emma, waited up for him, her face a mixture of pride and worry. "Enoch, my boy," she sighed, "You've got your whole life ahead of you. You shouldn't be working like this."
Enoch hugged her, assuring her with a smile. "It's fine, Mum. I need to do my part, too, you know?"
Emma's expression softened, but her eyes betrayed her exhaustion. "I know, I know. I'm just... I'm looking for a better-paying job, I promise. I don't want you to go through this."
Enoch's heart ached, but he forced a grin. "Hey, we'll be alright. We've got each other, right?"
Enoch's reassuring words seemed to soothe Emma's worried heart, as she managed a weak smile. "You're right, we do." She ruffled his messy hair, her eyes misting over with unshed tears. "You're a good boy, you know that?"
"I try, Mum," he said, his voice catching. "I just want to make you proud."
"You do, Enoch. You already do." She squeezed his shoulder, her fingers trembling slightly.
---
As Enoch continued to go to school as usual, he couldn't shake off the feeling that today was going to be different. His intuition proved right when he walked out of school and found the manager of the second most popular bar in town, The Scarlet Piano, waiting for him. The very same bar that hosted the school talent show two days ago.
"Enoch, right?" the manager, a burly man with a bushy mustache, asked.
Enoch gulped, "Uh, yeah, that's me. How can I help you, sir?"
"I saw your performance at the competition, kid. You've got something special, something that'll pack this place to the rafters. I'd like to offer you and your band, the Decibel Devils, a chance to play in our bar. Tonight, in fact."
Enoch's jaw dropped, unsure if he'd heard correctly. "Uh, thank you, Mr…?"
"Call me Randy. Randy Johnson," he said, offering a meaty handshake.
"Can we really perform? I mean, the other two members of our club and I are only 13 years old," Enoch asked, suddenly fearful.
Randy chuckled, his mustache bouncing with good humor. "Don't you worry about that, lad. We host all-ages shows here at The Scarlet Piano. Your age ain't nothing to fret about. It's the talent that counts, and believe me, you lot got it in spades."
Enoch felt his heart race with both excitement and trepidation. "I... I appreciate the opportunity, Mr. Johnson, but I'll need to check with the band."
"Call me Randy," he corrected, slapping Enoch on the back. "Go on, lad. Discuss it with your mates, but don't keep us in suspense too long. Tonight's crowd's aching for some fresh talent."
With that, Randy tipped his hat and sauntered off, leaving Enoch reeling from the unexpected opportunity.
After a frantic round of calls, the Decibel Devils gathered at their usual spot, Bryan's garage, buzzing with excitement and nervous energy.
"You lot won't believe what just happened," Enoch gasped, out of breath from running there.
"What is it, man?" Jonas asked, setting down his drumsticks.
Enoch took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. "Randy Johnson, from The Scarlet Piano, wants us... to play there... tonight."
The garage erupted into a cacophony of cheers, high-fives, and victory dances.
Jonas's eyebrows furrowed as he glanced at his cheering club members. "How is it that you lads, Jason and Angel, can perform when you're underage?" he asked, his tone skeptical.
Enoch nodded, a grin stretching across his freckled face. "Randy told us it's an all-ages show, so we're allowed to be on stage!"
The three older boys exchanged surprised looks, but their skepticism soon melted into beaming grins.
"Well, I'll be," Ryan clapped a hand on Enoch's shoulder, "this is grand news!"
Jason's eyes sparkled, "I can finally show my pa I've not chosen the wrong path, performing in front of a real crowd and all!"
Jonas's expression softened, "If they're allowing nippers your age on stage, then it must be quite the shindig. I suppose it's cause for celebration indeed, chaps!"
---
At seven o'clock sharp, the "Decibel Devils" filed into the second most popular bar in town. The place buzzed with activity, though it couldn't hold a candle to "The Crocodile" where Enoch worked as an errand boy. They scanned the room, and Enoch's finger shot out. "Randy Johnson's over there!" he said, nodding toward a table in the corner.
Jonas led the group through the jovial crowd, stopping at the manager's table. "Are you Randy Johnson?" he asked, extending a hand.
Randy stood, his eyes twinkling with recognition. "That's me, and you must be Jonas, am I right?"
"The very same," Jonas confirmed, gesturing to his bandmates. "We're here about the performance opportunity...?"
Randy shook Jonas's hand firmly. "I've heard great things about your band from this young fella here." He smiled at Enoch, who blushed. "Enoch's a talented one, I tell ya. I've got high hopes for him."
Then Randy's gaze swept over the "Decibel Devils" before resting on Enoch. "I've heard you lot can hold your own. Mind putting on a show as good as the one at the school competition?"
Bryan slapped Enoch on the back, "Don't you worry, Randy. This here's got talent in spades."
"Excellent." Randy stood, "I'll go inform the stage host. Now, about your instruments... did you bring your own or will you be using ours?"
Jonas nodded, "We've got our gear loaded up in the van. Just point us to the stage."
"Capital." Randy motioned to a burly stagehand, "Gus, help these fine folks out, will you?"
Jonas nodded his thanks, "We're rarin' to go."
A hush fell over the bar an hour later as the host took the microphone. "Ladies and gents, tonight's a special night! Let's give a warm welcome to 'Decibel Devils'!"
Enoch and his bandmates walked onto the stage, their boots thumping on the wooden boards. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, eyes narrowing on the young musicians.
"What are kids like them doin' here?" one gruff patron muttered.
"Yeah, especially that cherubic one," his friend added, jabbing a stubby finger at Enoch.
"And that lass? She ain't old enough for this joint."
"Cute as a button, but still, this ain't no place for children," someone else scoffed.
Enoch stepped up to the microphone, his guitar slung over his shoulder, as Jason joined him at the mic stand. Jonas took his place behind the drum set, while Angel and Ryan settled on either side of the stage with their guitars. Elena's fingers caressed the keys of the piano, and Bryan fiddled with the turntable.
Eyes remained on the band as doubtful whispers filled the air.
The moment the first chords of "Zombie" echoed through the bar, heads snapped towards the stage. Enoch's raspy tenor sent a shiver down spines, his words weaving a tale of grief and rebellion:
"Another head hangs lowly,
Child is slowly taken,
And the violence caused such silence,
Who are we mistaken?"
A hush fell over the crowd as everyone's eyes locked onto the young performer.
"But you see, it's not me,
It's not my family,
In your head, in your head,
They are fightin'..."
The Decibel Devils' soundtrack captivated the audience, reducing them to rapt spectators. Randy's jaw gaped, his eyes reflecting both astonishment and a flicker of pride.
While he'd been prepared for a good show, the raw talent and energy the band exuded surpassed even his loftiest expectations.
Enoch's voice soared, his eyes misty as he sang, "In your head, in your head
Zombie, zombie, zombie, hey, hey
What's in your head, in your head
Zombie, zombie, zombie, hey, hey, hey, oh."
Jason's harmony swelled the chorus, "Dou, dou, dou, dou
Dou, dou, dou, dou
Dou, dou, dou, dou
Dou, dou, dou, dou,"
The crowd, once skeptical, now stomped their boots and clapped along.
Enoch's strained tenor continued, "Another mother's breakin'
Heart is takin' over
When the violence causes silence
We must be mistaken,"
Anger and pain seeping into every word.
"It's the same old theme
Since nineteen-sixteen
In your head, in your head
They're still fightin'
With their tanks and their bombs
And their bombs and their guns
In your head, in your head
They are dyin'
In your head, in your head"
The room exploded in cheers and applause, as the Decibel Devils played with a fervor that seemed to transcend their young age.
As soon as the band finished their captivating cover of "Zombie", the audience erupted into thunderous applause and chants of "More! More!". Enoch, grinning widely, exchanged glances with his bandmates—Jason, Angel, Jonas, Elena, Bryan, and Ryan.
Enoch's heart swelled with pride. 'This is our first step to stardom.'
Reluctantly, he addressed the crowd, "We're sorry to cut this short, folks, but we've got another band waiting in the wings. You won't be disappointed!"
Cheers and whistles followed the Decibel Devils off the stage, where Randy was waiting with a broad grin.
Enoch extended a hand, "Thanks so much for the chance, Randy. We won't let you down."
Randy's eyes danced with excitement. "You just blew me away, kid. How about you lot come back tomorrow night? I've got an open slot I think you'll be perfect for."
Randy pressed a wad of bills into an Jonas hand, "You earned it, lot. That was somethin' else."
Enoch and the others were grateful for the opportunity alone, but they couldn't refuse the generous payment. With light hearts, they packed up their gear and boarded Jonas's van. The ride home was filled with jubilant chatter and high-fives all around.
Pulling up to their respective homes, they bid each other goodnight, promising to be back at the same time tomorrow.
Enoch couldn't sleep that night, his mind replaying the roar of the crowd and Randy's offer to play again tomorrow. The Decibel Devils' big break was finally upon them, and he couldn't be prouder of his bandmates.
Comments
Illuminati
I'll keep that in mind.
Banana19
Author, MC is still 13. Voice is still young and developing. If he forces and sings these heavy voice songs, his career will end prematurely due to unforeseen scenarios. Better pace it correctly.
Gold Demon
Thank you for the new chapter
