The Five Man Band

A dark sea of eyes stared at Haru in hunger, sending a chill down his spine. His legs wobbled, he held his breath, and the strings dug against his left fingers. He wasn’t sure he was ready for this.

And then, the spotlights came on. Their blinding light served to drive away the ravenous crowd from his vision, like monsters afraid of the dark.

A crash of the symbol kickstarted Haru’s instincts, the flare at the start of a competition. His hands found their purpose and dove right in, knowing that he was fighting against himself. Or rather, the person he wanted to be rid of.

The feedback of his rhythm came from the speaker, adequate but unpolished. However, a bass guitar soon joined in, carried by one of his close friends. The pounding of drums and the glide of keystrokes merged next, masking any mistakes that Haru might make. It melted into the melody of BUST, and the crowd was none the wiser.

The vocals erupted right after, causing Haru’s gaze to dart over to Mephisto, now holding only the mic. Haru filled in as guitarist, leaving Koichi to play bass and Mephisto hands free.

That didn’t mean that Mephisto was standing idle, far from it. He now had the freedom to sway across the stage and focus on the notes laced on his tongue. His body clicked with the rhythm before lurching back to deliver an ear-splitting high note.

Mephisto looked freer than he ever was. And the crowd was completely sucked in by it. When he started rocking out, the room followed suit. And any that were left standing still in the crowd Mephisto singled out with a wag of the finger. He was the Pied Piper initiating those that hadn’t fallen to the rhythm, the minstrel of head banging.

Haru was worried that his addition would hold them back, but they found a way to work with it. This lit a fire in Haru as he got more into the rhythm, letting himself sink into the hours of practice with his bandmates to get him up to speed.

He had to experience the vibe of BUST for himself. He had to breathe the same notes and fall into the groove that got their fans excited. Only then, could the song he wished to make for Grace feel complete.

Now that he was serious about being part of the band, his partners gave his tune a critical listen.

“It’s missing something.”

“Yeah, it’s nice, but I’m not feeling anything.”

“What kind of beat am I supposed to play in the background?”

“I can’t just stand there looking hot. Where’s the rhymes?”

Haru still had much to consider before he could play Grace’s song. Each player needed a part, and lyrics were yet to be added. But to do that, he had to feel the members as a whole. For now, he melded into their songs.

Reaching the end of the first song, Haru exhaled deeply. The tension in his nerves flowed with it. Cheering blasted any residual hesitation he still had, and turning to the other members, congratulations of a first performance came in the form of hearty grins.

Haru didn’t have time to feel proud for long, as the lights shifted on the stage, signaling the start of the next song. Once again, the beat of a drumroll brought Haru back to attention, gliding into the next piece, his finger memory on auto play.

The notes flew by like any normal jam session, along with his sense of time. Haru could only measure the passing of it by the changing of choruses. All he cared about was keeping up with the flow and sounding as best he could. Before long, Haru strummed the last notes of the current song and felt a sudden void kick in, like the end of a playlist.

Haru looked up, sweating and panting. The adrenaline rush had made him feel all of the high and none of the exhaustion until now. With a few looks between the members, Koichi raised his bass guitar up, the others coming forward to join in for the final cheer.

“Rock the house or BUST!” they yelled together.

“Thanks for coming everyone. That’s it for us, until next month!” Koichi ended the salute by shredding his guitar once more, before Ren dashed back and slammed his drumsticks on the symbols.

Haru’s first live had finished. The applause echoing throughout the room gave him a chill of delight. An arm wrapped around his shoulder and pulled him back.

“How’s it feel to be the life of the party? Good job, glad to have you around, partner,” Koichi said.

“Did you say life of the party? Cause I was smoking that mic!”

“Yeah, yeah. Have a drink on me, Mephisto.”

Koichi flipped a five-hundred-yen coin towards the singer, nimbly pocketing it for a shot at the bar. Ren and Kazuo simply took their performances in stride, giving the two of them a salute. Haru was about to join them back on stage, until Koichi tugged him back.

“Woah, there. I think you have your priorities in a twist. It looks like you have yourself an admirer.”

Haru spun around in a panic, only to find Kasumi standing in the crowd. He hadn’t noticed with the room dimmed and the lights in his face, but she had watched the live.

“This is one afterparty meant for you, Harucchi.”

After quickly packing up his guitar, Haru marched into the crowd to meet her, half nervous and half surprised that she had shown up. He had purposefully not told her about the live. It was one thing for complete strangers to see him botch it. Fortunately, he had put his good foot forward.

“You did amazing, Haru-kun.”

“Of course, I did. I’m just that gifted. Impressed with me yet?” he fibbed.

Kasumi didn’t answer. Instead, she grabbed Haru’s hands and turned them over, fingers covered in band-aids. He had clenched them into fists to hide the effort he put into learning BUST’s songs.

“Yes, very,” Kasumi finally said, stroking the bruises and blisters.

“You know, you could have just let me feel cool for a moment.”

“I think it’s cooler that you put in the effort to build yourself up to this point.”

Haru turned his face away, his cheeks warm suddenly. He wasn’t used to being complimented like this, not by a real girl anyway. Results were what mattered, not effort. That was the mindset of parents who were scientists.

“So… yeah… I guess it’s getting pretty late…”

Haru diverted the conversation with a stare at the clock on the wall, which read 9:25 PM. Fortunately, Haru didn’t have early morning practice the next day, so he could make up for lost sleep.

“Yes, it is. I should get going. Thank Motoyama-san for giving me a ticket.”

Koichi, you sonuva-!

Kasumi turned away, heading for the exit. As a friend simply should. Nothing more than that. But then, Megu’s words from earlier that day flashed in his mind.

“So let me ask you… what are you scared of?”

Haru took a chance.

“Hey! Maybe I should walk you home or something….” Haru wanted to kick himself for the half-assed attempt.

“Sure,” Kasumi answered, without needing to turn around. She merely glanced back slightly and tucked out her arm, as if she had been waiting for it. When she put it that way, Haru had no choice but to be the gentleman.