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the beginning of the end. | drabble MMM
The Roxy Room - it was where all musicians in Malvada went to try and catch their big break into the music scene, and in most cases, failed. I was one of the lucky ones, though. I had been coming to the Roxy since I was old enough to do things on my own. It was the place I had my first kiss, the place I had my first beer ( underaged, of course ), and the place where I lost my virginity. I ate, slept, and breathed at the Roxy, and when it was time for me to put my music out there, I had no doubt in my mind where I would start.
My career picked up a lot quicker than I had anticipated and by the age of 21, I was living out my dream. Playing shows every week, all the booze and cocaine I could want, enough groupies for there to be an ongoing rotation of who I saw each night. By 23, I had a multimillion dollar record deal.
I struggled with fame for a long time; I let it get to my head, and shortly after my 25th birthday, I lost everything I had worked so hard for. I found myself in and out of rehab, succumbing to the demons that lived within me, continuously injecting myself with drugs to keep them ( and myself ) level headed.
The only constant I had ever known, was Teddy.
Teddy was the epitome of a ‘right-hand man’. Where I went, he went. Where he went, I went. He never questioned my loyalty, just as I never questioned his. Teddy was the first friend I had ever made, and when he saw I was struggling, he did his best to support me through it. He dropped me off at Crescent Springs Rehabilitation in Rapacity, and picked me up three weeks later when I checked myself out, no questions asked. When I needed a place to stay after leaving my dads, he opened his door for me without hesitation. When I gave up on my career, he pushed me to keep going. And because of him, I’m where I am today.
In a few hours, after too much time away, I’ll make my comeback to the Roxy. The show sold out in less than a half hour, and to be honest, I’m terrified. I feel like I forgot how to perform, and my anxiety is through the f***ing roof.
I try to drown out my feelings with another beer, the liquid coating my throat with satisfaction when there’s a knock at the door. “Come in,” I yell, taking one more sip before setting the can down.
Teddy walks through the door, grin spread from ear to ear. “You ready for tonight? There’s SO many people out there, dude. Like, SO many,” he plopped down on the couch across from me, and I could tell he was just as excited as I was. I watched as his slender fingers reached for the guitar he’d use on stage, admiring the way he turned it by ear so effortlessly. “Hey Sonny?”
I lifted my head to meet his attention. “Yeah, I'm ready," I lied. "What’s up, boss?”
“I want you to have this guitar. To remember the night.” He offered another cheeky grin, fingers strumming a couple of chords.
Truthfully, I was taken back. That guitar meant everything to Teddy; it was a gift from his grandfather before he passed, and I swear, Teddy took the damn thing everywhere. I couldn’t accept it. “Nah man, that’s yours. It’s important to you,” I said, shaking my head as I took another sip of beer.
“It’s just a guitar, Hudson,” he said, shoulders shrugging. “Besides, we used it to write your new album. I think it holds some sentimental value to you.”
“You’re an idiot,” I laughed, exhaling a sigh. Only Teddy would think writing an album was more imporant than the sentimental value it held to himself. “I’ll think about it, alright?”
“Whatever,” he said, shrugged shoulders settling back into place. “Pass me a beer, will ya? I have first show jitters.”tr
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