AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Deep in thought, I sit in this old wooden pub chair, my tongue playing with my lip ring. I’ve been clean for eight years, and while I know I’ll never go back to that dark time in my life when I was on a path of self-destruction, I’m not sure I want to test that strength of my resilience. Temptation will always exist. I’m not a fucking fool to think otherwise.
“So, what do you reckon, Callum?” Jagger asks, breaking the silence that’s settled over our table. “We’ve got a second chance here.”
“I don’t know,” I say, running a hand through my shoulder-length light blonde hair. “We tried this before, remember? Without her. This isn’t a second chance. It’s a third.”
“But that was then. We’ve all grown, learned, and hell, maybe it could be different.”
Ash, ever the optimist.
Jagger nods in agreement, his pint poised in his hand. “We’re not kids anymore; we’ve got more experience under our belts. We know what went wrong last time and can avoid those pitfalls.”
“Her,” I whisper. “Those pitfalls to avoid are her.”
“She’s part of our music.”
Not a chance.
I stand up, grab my guitar, and storm out of the pub. The cool night air hits my face, and I lean my guitar against the wall to zip up my leather jacket.
“You haven’t even listened to my plan.”
I hear Jagger behind me, and Asher follows him out the door.
“She was never meant to be part of the Sonics. It was never right to begin with,” I mutter, taking my guitar and swinging the strap across my shoulders. I turn and stroll towards the bus stop.
“This isn’t about resurrecting the Sonics. That band is dead and buried.” He replies as they follow behind me.
As soon as I reach the stop, I pull out my rusty tin of pre-rolled fags, take one out, light it up, stick the lighter back in the box, and stuff it back inside my jacket pocket. I inhale a smoke, turn to Jagger, and exhale, waiting for him to continue.
Taking my silence to continue he and Asher surround me.
“Think about it, Callum. The chemistry the five of us had on stage and the energy we created was special. We never truly explored the full potential of our sound. Maybe now is the time. Start our own band and do things we dreamed of doing without totalitarianism from the record label.”
“And we're not talking about chasing fame or fortune,” Asher chimes in. “We're talking about making music because we love it. No pressure, no expectations – just the joy of creating something together. Hard rock. Alternative rock. None of the pop bullshite this time. We do it our way."
I let out a contemplative breath. The memories of the old band, the missed opportunities, and the sense of what could have been linger. Yet, a spark of possibility ignites within me. The thought of reclaiming that passion of creating a new chapter with old companions is undeniably tempting.
My bus arrives, and I flick my fag to the ground, swiftly extinguishing it beneath my boot as I exhale the final puff of smoke. The doors open, and I pull out my card to tap it on the reader and turn to face both men.
"Okay," I say, a smile playing on my lips. "Let's give it a shot. But this time, let's do it for the music. For ourselves.”
I shake my head at Jagger and huff a laugh.
“And burn your clothes, Jagger,” I add with a wicked grin. “I ain’t playing hard rock music with someone who looks like an accountant.”
I salute them as the doors slide and close. I dash to the upper deck, where I know I won’t be bothered to find my solace and contemplate what I’ve fucking committed myself to.
Thankfully, it’s empty up here, and I take a seat at the front by the large windows, feeling pretty much on top of the world as the buspulls through the streets of Woodford, heading towards Finsbury Park.
Pulling my leg up on the seat next to me, my inked fingers graze the strings of my guitar as I quietly contemplate what I’ve just agreed to do.
My mind buzzes with a mix of renewed energy, a slight hesitation, and the booze effect from the pints I’ve drunk this evening.
They’ll have to convince Haze, and this is where it ends. If they manage to convince him, then maybe there’s a chance.
Then there’s findingher.
I recoil in a snarl at the mere contemplation of that notion.
