Less Than Human

The writing sessions for the second EoT album were rougher than expected. Reese was a cool guy, and a much more technical drummer than Jim. His approach to playing and writing fit cleanly in the scope of what we were trying to do.

The problem was that we couldn’t put together anything that wasn’t shit. Less Than was a ten minutes and done song. I played some Soundgarden meets Alice in Chains riffs, and Scott found the vibe and shaped the melody accordingly. Skye and I tweaked the lyrics with him until it hit just right. Reese and Kenny built a tight pocket, and we had one solid song done.

Then two weeks passed and we had thrown twenty ideas in the garbage. None of the riffs or melodies I was writing jived with Scott or Kenny. None of Scott’s ideas worked. Kenny had some decent ideas, but he didn’t have the vision to let the rest of the band build around him. We were stuck.

My saving grace was that I had stepped out and recorded three demos for my solo record. I sent them to Stan as I went. He was chomping at the bit to release those, but I was ghosting him when he asked about EoT updates.

“Fine,” Scott shouted, frustrated. “Starting tomorrow, Maggie and Courtney are coming to the space to help us figure this out.”

“I don’t know what else we can do, we don’t have anything working for us, and we need to have this demoed in less than six weeks,” I whined.

“I hate this. Why are we even doing this if we can’t figure it out… What if we bring Justin in to help?” Kenny paused. “Since he’ll be playing this shit live.”

“Hey, that’s not a good attitude to have,” Reese cut in. “I’m sorry, this is my fault. I’m the new guy. I’ve got everyone in a rut.”

I actually agreed with him. He was way more talented than Jim, but I couldn’t lock in with him creatively the same way.

“Scott, Kenny, do you guys mind if I jam with Reese for a while?”

“That’s fine,” Kenny said, leaving the space.

“Yeah, but can I just sit here and listen?” Scott asked.

“Yeah, that works,” I said.

Reese and I started at 8 p.m. and went until 1. We played anything and everything. Scott stopped us whenever he heard something he liked to record a demo on his phone. He’d send those to Skye. The plan was to see if we could cobble some ideas from this session together.

It wasn’t a bad idea. Scott grabbed the mic a few times and sang some great content, maybe this was the way it had to be.

***

The sessions with Courtney and Maggie were different, but certainly more productive. Maggie didn’t let us waste time on shitty concepts. If something didn’t work, she made sure we dropped it immediately. Courtney was good for pushing Scott and Kenny out of their comfort zones, but she didn’t know how to work around Skye and me.

Within a week, we finished outlining two more songs that were album-ready, but not in the same league as Less Than.

“What is it we’re missing?” I said, imploding. “Why doesn’t any of this work?”

“It’s because none of you actually want to make this album,” Maggie answered. “Reese is the only person who’s locked in. Wes, you’re trying to write songs that sound like EoT. Scott, you’re trying too hard to emulate what Wes did on your hits. Kenny, you don’t give a fuck about doing any of this.”

Her words hung in the air.

“Kenny, just quit the band, get a day job, and marry me if you aren’t going to do this the right way,” her voice was scathing.

His demeanor didn’t change. His apathy was impressive.

“Kenny, look at me,” Courtney cut in.

“What do you want, now?” he snapped.

“Look, you’ve talked about chasing this dream with Scott since I was eleven years old, and all you’ve ever done is ride the Rondeau brothers’ coattails,” she was intense. “This is your chance to prove that you deserve this, and your mind is somewhere else… Wes isn’t coming back after this. If you can’t do it with him, you certainly can’t do it without him.”

He stepped out of the room. It was either that or he would have killed her.

“I’m sorry guys. It needed to be said,” her voice hung in the room.

I started playing with inspiration for the first time in months. If I didn’t capture this moment, it would have been a waste of Courtney’s courage.

Within the hour we had our fourth song on the album. It was called Promises. Skye and Courtney worked out the lyrics for Scott’s melody. It was haunting, it could be the first single from the record, even without the bass.

After the session, Skye and I invited Courtney back with us. Scott finally resolved to ruin his life in the parking lot, where Reese wouldn’t hear.

“Please don’t lie to me. What do you guys do when you go back to Skye’s place?”

We all looked at each other. I needed to be the one to answer.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yeah,” he was unsure.

“Skye and I have really fucked up sex. There’s a lot of S&M and blood play,” I said in an even tone.

He looked at his sister, to Skye, and back to me.

“Okay…” he paused. “Courtney?”

Her eyes shot down, she was uncomfortable, “I just watch…”

None of us were going to correct that lie of omission.

“That’s… less shocking than I expected,” he muttered, clearly unsettled. “I don’t get it, but at least you’re not sleeping with both brothers.”

Courtney glared at him, “It was only the one time with Caleb. I’m sorry Kenny got to my best friend before you did.”

She had a point.

“Also, even if I did sleep with Wes, it wouldn’t matter. How dare you?”

Yeah. Emotional carnage in the parking lot. Perfect inspiration. I was disgusting, but it was true.

“I just want what’s best for you. I don’t want you being exploited by degenerates like them.”

His gaze immediately went to Skye. He realized he fucked up.

“Scott, I’m sorry you feel that way,” I said, putting my arms around Skye, partially to stop her from swinging, partially to remind her I loved her.

“After everything, I’m sad that’s your opinion of me.”

Reese finally finished locking up the practice space and met us in the parking lot.

“Hey, Reese, let’s head back to my place… I want to go over some ideas for our live shows,” Scott said, changing the subject.

“Courtney, you can have shotgun,” Reese smiled, opening the car door for her.

“Sorry, Reese, I’m going back with Wes and Skye,” she smiled.

“Oh, have a great night then!”

He was a great guy.

***

Skye and I should have known better. We’d found our home in this darkness for years, but this time… we pulled someone else in. Courtney was raw, bleeding from the inside, humiliated, angry, lost in the aftershock of Scott’s judgment. She didn’t want to be saved, she wanted to destroy something. Maybe herself.

We should’ve stopped her. Called Maggie. Taken her home.

Instead, we let the night unfold.

She asked to feel what we felt. To cross the line with us. Skye didn’t hesitate. I should have. But I didn’t. I helped her with the razor. Her hands were shaking too much.

I don't remember how it started, only that it happened. The blood, the sex, the numbness. She passed out between us, her face streaked with blood and tears, her chest rising and falling against mine like a dying metronome.

When Skye and I did this alone, it had always been intimate. Unnatural, yes, but rooted in love, in mutual need.

This wasn’t that.

This was something else. Something we didn’t understand. A girl chasing oblivion, and two people too selfish to stop her.

We didn’t sleep. We couldn’t.

Courtney said she wanted it. Maybe she did. But what she needed was someone to tell her no.

And we failed her.