The knowledge that my family has my back and are behind me the whole way invigorates me as we start work at our new venues. It is a far different beast from the days at Pizza Time. People in the crowd look healthy, happy, sitting around with family and friends with good conversation instead of the sullen eyes of those just trying to scrape by. The stages are set up before we even arrive, since we aren’t the only shows and they have a crew to do the work. The spare time we get from that we spend on practicing.

This particular show, a few weeks after Christmas, is a hard one, mostly because it’s in a bar. Nothing like having to play in front of what might be a bunch of unknown drunken idiots, worrying if any might try to do something stupid like jump on stage. Thankfully Anon has offered up himself as security to keep back the crowd, something that greatly reduces the stress I am under. I sit in the back in the break room, idly twisting my guitar strap as I fight off my anxiety. We are doing really well, far better than I had hoped and even though I loved the attention, it still makes me nervous. The fear of failure always scratches at the back of my mind.

Anon comes into the room, moving beside me and touching me on the shoulder. “How are you doing, Fang?”

I sigh, letting my hands fall in my lap as the internal struggle goes on. “I’m alright. Just…dealing with some stage fright, Anon.”

“Stage fright? You? I see you dancing up there on stage all the time. You seem to glow when all eyes are on you.”

“I know…but I still worry all the time that I might fuck up. Slip and fall off the stage, snap a string mid-set, or completely fuck up and ruin the whole thing. It’s a lot of pressure and it gets to me sometimes.”

He hugs me and puts his hand on my cheek. “You are going to do just fine. I have full confidence in you that you’ll nail this show like you do every other one and we’ll be onto the next. If you start to struggle, just look for me. I’ll be there the whole time.”

With a bit of my confidence returning, I kiss him on the cheek before getting up. “Thank you, Anon. I need to go out on stage before Benji and Jacob just look like dorks in headlights.”

“Knock ’em dead, Fang. Just not literally.”

“Well, no duh…dweeb.”

Stepping out of the back and onto stage is a new feeling entirely. My stage fright melts away seeing so many happy faces across the place. I know we are only just now making our way out of the bottom, but locals do love seeing their own making a name for themselves. It’s a touch of town pride. Benji and Jacob are already in position, nodding as they prepare for one of the biggest shows of our new beginning. My fear of drunks stumbling all over is tempered by the fact that Anon is looking about as intimidating as he can up front while a bouncer backs him up. With a deep sigh, I take my place center stage, grabbing the mic in hand and addressing my waiting audience.

“Good evening, Volcaldera! Sorry, couldn’t help myself…first time I’ve been on a stage with this big of an audience!” Welp that was awful, but I still earn myself a few batches of laughter scattered throughout the bar. “Anyway, I’m Fang and we are Strands of Silver. Hope we can add some fire to your hearts before you head home tonight.”

With that we start, the lights of the stage glimmering around us as we play our set. Jacob plows away at his drums while Benji shakes the house pouring heavy bass from the stage speakers, giving out rich thumping notes causing several people to jump to their feet, an impromptu mosh pit appearing in a corner as people absorb our sound. I sing my heart out, strumming hard on my guitar with the intensity of a raging fire. A lot of our songs have changed, switching out depressing beats for ones with some power in them. The group reacts to our energy on stage as some even try to sing along, slurring what words they can figure out. I open my eyes and catch sight of Anon who is looking up at me with pride in his eyes seeing me so animated on stage. Fang is back.

My outfit helps draw the crowd’s eye as well. I have been trying out all sorts of things, trying to find what fits our theme best. Tonight I’m wearing a black corset top, studded across the top along with my old spiked choker on my crest. Thick black leather boots come all the way to the top of my calves with a knee-length black skirt. Fingerless gloves with my claw tips just barely dipped in silver nail polish and dark purple eyeshadow complete my look. I must look like a fallen angel on stage with my wings, and I love every minute of it.

Our choice of music will keep us out of the swankier venues but it’s not like I want to play for those stuck-up fucks anyhow. This is the place I belong, among the rough crowds belting out heavy tunes while the masses get rowdy and maybe a few people leave with a new scar to talk about. I hope we get to play at more of these music bars—these people know how to party! I watch as one guy nearly takes a stool to the head in the pit.

I dance across the stage, catching the eyes of a few patrons as I smirk and throw a wink to a few, eliciting a few cheers from the more drunk individuals. As the set grows closer to the end I move back to the center of the stage, my fingers rapidly moving across the fretboard sending out a torrent of notes to add a blazing finish to our show before striking my pick across the strings one last time as I let the note hang in the air. The mob erupts in cheers as I gaze out into the mass of people. They fucking love it, and this is only the start. I have so much more to show this town.

I take a bow to them all, garnering a few whistles while I see the people in the mosh pit recovering from their sudden beatdown. A few bruises…I think that guy might have broken a finger…but eh, they knew what they were getting into when they jumped in there. Benji comes up alongside me with the widest grin on his face.

“Fucking hell, Fang. We are really moving up! A real venue, with real people, and a stage that isn’t gonna break under us if we step wrong. You shoulda started playing guitar ages ago if this is where we were going to end up.”

I rest my hands across the strings of my guitar, sweat still falling from my brow as I shake my head. “I wouldn’t have been in the right place back then, Benji. It would have been a disaster. But now that I got my head on straight there isn’t anywhere we can’t reach. Now we just gotta keep fucking practicing until we get to the stadium, then our star is really gonna fucking take off.”

Benji wipes his face with a rag before flinging it behind him. “You got it, Fang. Me and Jacob will work our asses off. Don’t want to make you look bad on stage.”

“Like you guys could ever do that. You two were already kicking ass well before we got to this point. But for now, we probably should close up before anyone wanders off.”

Benji nods to me before hopping back into his spot as I turn back to the mic.

“That’s all from us tonight! I hope you all had a good time and for those who were in the pit, I hope your health insurance is up to date. Thank you and good night!”

With one last wave and another surge of cheers from the crowd, we gather up our stuff and head to the break room. The rush of the show still runs through our veins as sweat drips from our bodies. I collapse on the couch while Benji downs an entire water bottle in one go and Jacob dries off his face in the corner. We spend a few minutes catching our breath—another successful show, this one paying even more than the last. I hope the owners didn’t mind a few battered customers tonight. We don’t even have to run our own merch table now; the venues always provide someone to staff it for us, which frees up Anon’s time. Speaking of which, where is that dweeb?

As if he could read my mind, he comes in through the back with someone in tow. “Hey Fang, got a fan that wanted to talk to you…you won’t believe who it is.”

A tendril of fear digs at the back of my mind as I think of who it could be. There aren’t many people from my past that I can think would be here, fewer still I’d want to run into. I turn to look, and I am dumbfounded by who I see there.

The only lime green stegosaurus I’ve ever known in my entire life…it’s Stella and holy crap, she looks different! Running through both of her nostrils is a gold hoop, and her hair is dyed dark purple and slicked back behind her head with a length that rivals my hair when it was at its longest. A couple of studs decorate her eyebrows, and her bright blue eyes still carry that bubbly energy she always seems to be filled with. She’s wearing a fishnet top with a dark black sports bra underneath along with a pair of black jean shorts and boots. Holy crap, Stella, when did you suddenly become cool?

Her tail swishes from side to side as she stares at me with stars in her eyes. “Hi Fang! It’s been so long. When I saw the poster about who was playing tonight, I had to show up! How are you doing?!” Her energy is positively infectious even dressed as she is now. She may sport the goth look, but there isn’t a thing in the world that can dampen that spirit of hers.

I get up and pull her into a hug, and Stella blushes and squeaks with delight like she just met her favorite movie star. I brush my hair out of my face smiling at the blast from my past. “I’m doing great but hell, Stella, you were the last person I thought I’d ever see at my show! I thought you would have been long gone from this town.”

She shrugs, still with a star-struck grin on her face. “I’ve always loved your music, Fang. Ever since that one show at Moe’s I had always hoped for more. Then you disappeared for years and no one knew where you went. As for me still being in town, well…honestly, I haven’t really had a plan for anything. Been staying at my parents and working at the Fossilmart in town to make ends meet.”

Stella, of all people, working retail?? No way, I don’t believe it. I shake my head as I study her. She is too good for fucking retail. “What about you and Rosa? I always thought you guys would have started up a florist shop or some shit with all that gardening you guys did…the flowers were always gorgeous!”

Stella’s face sinks, looking down at her boots. “Rosa left town three years ago. Money was tight and they couldn’t really afford to stick around Volcaldera anymore…been on my own ever since.”

That hurt to hear. Stella and Rosa had been inseparable, a dynamic duo that could have made a rose grow from concrete. I never thought I’d see the day when they weren’t together. None of this was right. “Stella, I’m so sorry to hear that. Fuck…that sucks that Rosa left town.”

“Yeah…”  All of her normal peppy energy fades, she shakes her head and looks back up at me. “But it’s so good to see you!” I can see the pain through her smile. “At least something good came back to this town after so long.”

I hold her in my arms, hugging her gently. She rests her head on my shoulder, wrapping her arms around me. I always thought she would have been out of here, doing whatever she put her mind to, but she is stuck…same as I had been. Stella never deserved this, especially not losing Rosa. We all fell to pieces after that last year…none of us ever got to live our dreams. But…maybe I can do something about that now.

I lean back, taking her hands in mine. “Stella.” She looks up at me with those beautiful blue eyes of hers. “I want you to work for us. We’re making plenty and I cannot stand the idea of you being wasted in retail. You can help out Anon. I know you can drum up hype like nobody’s business and you’ve been all over the internet. Plus, a gorgeous girl like you? Nobody will say no if you ask them to help out. What do you say?”

Her jaw drops and she can’t contain her squeals of delight as she wraps her arms around me again and bounces around. “What do I say? Of course, Fang! I’d love to!”

Holy shit, Stella has a strong grip! I struggle for breath in her arms as she twirls around with me. I eventually free myself from her vice grip as she continues to bounce in place. Outside she might look different, but she’s still the boundlessly energetic girl I knew in school. Benji and Jacob give me a thumbs up, laughing as I finally recover my breath.

“Welcome to the band then, Stella! Can’t wait to see what you can do with that magic of yours.”

Stella’s eyes are gleaming with joy as her tail wraps around her leg. I don’t know what is going on in that brain of hers right now, but I can only imagine the amount of picture-perfect anime endings she is dreaming up. I never want to see that sorrowful look on her face ever again, she is too precious for it.

“Ohmygodohmygod I’m in the band!” She squeals as she clasps her face in both of her hands. “I can’t wait to tell my parents! Oh, they are gonna be so proud of me!” She looks down at her watch before jumping back. “Oh shit! It’s so late! I gotta get home before they worry.” She runs over and gives me and Anon a hug, then gives an energetic wave to the guys. “Goodbye! I’ll see you tomorrow?”

I nod to her before pointing to my phone. “Give me a call in the morning, Stella, and we’ll get you set up. Which also means get back here…you need my number, ya dork.”

She blushes before taking down my number and running out the side door. Well, that was unexpected. I also did not know Stella cursed…that is new. Anon just shrugs in the corner as I look at him.

“Seems like you are gonna drag everyone out of the shit on your way up, huh, Fang?” Anon smirks at me as he leans against the wall.

I look out the door Stella had run out of before sighing. “I couldn’t leave her slaving away in some shitty retail job. She was always nice to me any time I had detention. Nobody with that big of a heart deserves to have it torn down by some dickhead customer. Plus, we can afford her and you know she’ll be making us even more money with her talents.”

“No doubt. Stella could get the grumpiest fuck to show up to her birthday party with one look. Welp, let’s get our shit together…we’ve got another show tomorrow night and you need your sleep after that performance.”

“Good point. Alright, I’ll catch you later guys!” I wave to Jacob and Benji who are finishing packing up their stuff. They wave back to me as I put on a jacket and grab my guitar, Anon not far behind as we head to the front desk to pick up what is left over from the merch stand and the cashbox. To my surprise, there isn’t a single thing left to take home, just the money. The guys trust me to keep it stored until we divvy it out at the end of the week. Anon tucks the box under his arm and we head toward home.

He jingles the box as we reach the sidewalk, whistling as he feels the heft. “Making money hand over fist now, Fang. Hell, could move out of Skin Row any day now.”

“Can’t wait for that! I can’t even wear mom’s gift because someone would snatch it off my neck in an instant.” I light up a cigarette, taking a deep draw before catching a look from Anon. “Hey…I said was quitting, can’t just kick it to the curb cold turkey unless you want me to rip your eyeballs out while you sleep.”

“Point taken. At least you are down to maybe one or two a day. I know it’s taken a lot of work to get that far.”

I puff out a ring of smoke with a sigh. “Yeah. Gonna miss it when I can’t have them anymore. But have to do it…my voice already isn’t as haggard as it used to be.” I take another drag into my lungs before exhaling. “Save us a ton of money, too.”

I hold the cigarette up to Anon, and he takes a tiny puff for himself before I finish the rest and stamp it out on the curb. No one said quitting smoking is easy and it was already making me twitchy even before I knocked it down to just a couple a day. As we reach Skin Row, Anon grips the box tighter, not wanting to give a pickpocket a chance to rob us. Climbing up the stairs to our apartment, I open the door for him before locking it behind us.

“Home sweet terribly held together home,” I utter as I place my guitar back on the wall, pulling off my boots and hanging up my jacket. “I need a shower…I’ll be back in a bit.” Anon gives me a quick nod before opening the cashbox and sorting out the money.

The warm water of the shower does wonders on my tired aching muscles. Ever since I’ve started moving around stage more it’s been making my legs hurt like hell, not to mention sweating up a storm. It’s worth it, though, with how much more the crowds seem to be into my performance when I’m not standing around like a deer in headlights in front of a mic. Once my muscles stop hurting I dry off, throw on some pajamas, and stumble into the living room before collapsing on the bed.

“Ugh…I miss my old bed already.” I punch a lump back into the mattress, causing a different one to pop up under my thigh. “Oh goddammit…stupid lumps.”

Anon scoots in beside me, wrapping an arm around my waist as I settle in close to him. “Don’t worry, Fang. Soon we’ll be out of here and in our own apartment that isn’t a tiny ass shack in Skin Row. And we can get an actual good mattress. You are making it big, just like I always knew you could. I’m just happy I’m along with you for the journey.”

I hug him tight, resting my cheek on his chest. “I wouldn’t have gotten here without you, Anon. Don’t act like you haven’t been pushing us up with that networking of yours.”

He shrugs. “Just don’t want to take credit for that beautiful talent of yours. I’m pleased enough just having you to hold every night.”

I lean over and kiss him. “I’m glad to have you with me too. Let’s get some sleep though…I’m exhausted after shaking my tail on stage.”

“What a beautiful tail it is…”

“Just don’t go staring at it when you’ve got work to do. You gotta keep all those handsy people away from me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of letting you down, Fang.”

“Good boy, now scoot.”

He moves and I adjust myself to comfortably rest with a leg on his and my arms around his chest. Another successful show and I got to see an old friend who now is going to be working for me. I really wish Rosa hadn’t left; Stella looked so hurt when she mentioned it. Doesn’t matter now…Stella has a future with us and I’m not going to let her be left behind ever again.