Stasis in the System

The direction of our summer took a sharp turn after signing with R&R. We spent every night at the practice space, forcing routine into our bones. The schedule ahead of us was brutal.

We signed the contract on July 18th. Darker Days was scheduled to release on August 19th, with us opening the show at MSG on the 20th. This gave us a month to be ready for the biggest show of our lives so far.

After that, we’d be starting school on the 31st, with shows six or seven nights a week from September 2nd until December 10th. Most of the dates were at smaller venues between five hundred and two-thousand occupancy, but there were maybe fifteen shows between the arenas in Manchester, Lowell, and Worcester—with three at the Garden. Eighteen arena shows out of eighty-nine in a ninety-nine day window. Stan really was the devil.

As August wore on, we were getting tighter and more comfortable with playing all out every night.

“I know that this is starting to feel robotic—but we’ve never been tighter,” Kenny said.

“Yeah, I don’t really worry about anyone dragging anymore,” Scott added.

“I think we’ll find our mojo again once we have an audience,” Kenny replied.

Yeah, it’s hard to simulate a live environment in a rehearsal environment. Kenny and I were trying to match the energy of a live show, but it was difficult to do that every night without an audience.

“So, Kenny, I think I’m done with blading at shows,” I said.

“Yeah, I’ll keep it in my toolkit, but I’m not going to be able to do it with this kind of schedule. I’ll need to find a more sustainable shock value.”

Sustainable shock value? What a concept.

“Just don’t hurt yourself too badly. With Stan’s schedule, there are no recovery days,” Jim added.

Kenny smiled. “I know. But seriously—hydrate. You’ve got the sweatiest job. That’ll kill you if you’re not careful.”

Jim laughed to himself behind the kit. “I can’t believe you are worried about me… Maggie really turned your life around.”

“Maybe,” he laughed. “We’ve worked so hard to get here together. I don’t want to do this in a way that will leave me with regrets.”

Scott was unusually quiet. I nodded my head asking if he wanted to talk outside. He obliged.

“Hey, we’re stepping out for a bit,” I said.

Jim and Kenny acknowledged it. Scott and I walked outside of the practice space.

“Are you good?” I asked.

“I don’t know… I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

He took a sip of his Red Bull.

“We’re finally going to go out and do the thing. We’re catching up to Caleb. But I’m not sure how we’re going to get through it—this schedule is crazier than I ever imagined.”

I took a sip from my Monster.

“I get it, but we don’t have time to think about it. We just have to take it one night at a time… In the social media age, every show is an opportunity to go viral or make a mark.”

“I’m also not sure how I’m going to be my best with Courtney around,” he said, slumping into himself in front of the building.

I figured this was more about what he wasn’t using than about her being there.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you haven’t been using anything since we signed.”

“No,” he mumbled. “And I feel like shit…you guys all sound great in there, but I feel like I’m a step behind.”

“What?” I was pissed. “You’ve never sounded better man. We sound great because of you. The rest of us are irrelevant without you… a great band isn’t worth shit these days without a great singer.”

I didn’t realize this was not helpful. Just more pressure.

“I guess.”

Eventually, we made it back to the room to run through the setlist again. Scott sounded more haunted this time. It was terrifying—and incredible.

***

The weekend before the New York show and our debut, the group reconvened at the Parris household for another get together.

Since signing, I hadn’t seen Skye as often. The space between us felt like it was doing wonders for our relationship. With the new time she had and the recent turn of events in our friend group, she was spending a lot of her time with Courtney and Maggie. I wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

In that same time span, Skye and I weren’t sleeping together. I was uneasy about how she was dealing with the distance—but Courtney reassured me that I was just paranoid.

Scott and I went for a walk before everyone else was supposed to arrive. He took a few hits of a joint as we were leaving his parents place.

“Pardon the smell, Wes. I just needed something… the last four weeks have been stressful and I need to relax.”

“It’s all good. It’s nice to see you doing something…mellower.”

Considering the coke, Xanax, Adderall, and occasional ecstasy, weed was practically medicinal.

“I’m surprised you’ve been clean through all of this… you seem less anxious.”

"Yeah… avoiding human relationships outside of EoT has done wonders for my mental health,” I laughed.

“Are you and Skye doing alright? That night when Courtney left with you guys was…odd.”

It was a fair question. Complicated, too. The kind that makes you feel like lying even when you don't want to.

“Yeah, we’re doing alright now… we started a little too hot and heavy. Court has helped us sort out some of the intensity—made sure we learn how to be a real couple,” I lied.

He didn’t believe me.

“Okay, that’s good.”

We made our way back to the house without saying more. He was clearly concerned about his sister’s involvement, but he didn’t have enough chemical confidence to push the issue.

I wished he had—it might’ve slowed our spiral.