“So, this is it. This is the last demo
tape I’m sending, alright?” All three blondes nodded
vigorously. They had already been rejected
by twelve other labels, this one had to accept them. They just had to.
Their father addressed the envelope to Mercury Records, and got in
the car to drive to the post office.
Three weeks later, the phone rang.
“Guys!! Come down here!! I have exciting news!!”
Walker called to his three sons. In seconds
they had all assembled. “That was the executive at Mercury Records. He
wants to hear you guys perform! They set up a private
appointment for tomorrow afternoon!” Taylor
leapt a foot in the air, and Zac and Isaac
started dancing together in the strangest
fashion. The dancing ceased when the flash from a camera took them by surprise.
“Oh this one’s goin’ in the CD cover.” Taylor laughed like a maniac, as
the two other band members chased him around the house.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Seconds ticked by in
hell’s waiting room. No magazines, no water
fountain, only a bench and that damned
clock. “You guys wanna rehearse one more time?” Isaac’s suggestion was
met with two disgusted looks. The door in the back whisked open.
“Guys? They’re ready for you.”
“We were awesome in there!! I know
they’re gonna sign us, they have to sign us!!
Woohoo!!” Taylor did a little pumping
motion with his arm. People gazed out of their car
windows at the site of three boys dancing
around a parking lot with a grown man.
“What?? What do they mean we’re not what
they’re looking for?” The brothers were nearly in tears as yet another
label rejected their joyful voices and not-depressing music.
“Boys, I’m really sorry, but your sound
just isn’t what’s selling these days,” their manager
told them. “You’ve got your whole life
ahead of you, don’t let this get you down.” He
packed up his briefcase and left.
Isaac sat on the couch, flipping through
channels. “Hey, MTV Breakdown is on,” he said
aloud to no one in particular. 6 months
had passed since their rejection, and it was now
early May. “...and the number one video
is...Marilyn Manson, for the fifth week in a row.”
Isaac watched with some interest. It wasn’t
like he hadn’t seen it a least a hundred times. “Okay, and we’re off the
air.” Matt Pinfield walked off stage, grumbling to himself. “Every single
week, the same damn thing. I’m so sick of it!!” He plopped down in a chair
backstage and allowed the make-up artist
to wipe the sweat off his dome. “Why can’t there just be one band that
pops up that’s different?” he asked the woman.” Then maybe this wouldn’t
have happened...”
“And in other news, teen suicide in the
U.S. has tripled since last year. Drug use has
increased by 30% and teen pregnancy is
on the rise. Can there be a connection between these and today’s listening
choices? For the story we go to Pamela Fulton...” “Thanks Ted. Marilyn
Manson, a name too common in today’s households has had an incredible effect
on today’s youth. Could anything have stopped this? Another band perhaps?
What might have been if a new innovation in music had come along? Well,
I think...”
Isaac switched the T.V. He yawned and stood
up. Climbing the stairs to his room, he
caught the scent of smoke. As he pushed
the door open, it revealed a blond lying face-up on the bottom bunk. A
stream of blue curling smoke drifted upwards toward the ceiling. The joint
was offered to him and he took a long drag, holding it in as long as possible.
Finally he puffed out circles with the exhale and passed it back to Taylor.
Zac sat in the treehouse, watching
the brunette button her shirt back up. He lit her
cigarette and kissed her on the cheek
before she climbed down the ladder to go home. Five
minutes later, a familiar voice called
for him. “Zac! What are you doing up there?” his
mother called. “Nothing,” he yelled back.
He heard her climbing the ladder, so he quickly
flicked the cigarette out the window.
“Zac.” A tired looking middle aged woman gazed at
her son with disappointment. “Were you
smoking again?”
9 years later...
Taylor leaned back and let the cocaine
kick in. He dropped the razor on the floor. 2
minutes later, “Ike. I dropped the thingy.”
A pair of bloodshot eyes searched the ceiling. “I
don’t see it anywhere. Ask the little
green man swinging on the fan. He might know.”
“Zac, did you look for a job today?” The
blond rubbed out his cigarette, and stared at the
brunette holding a baby in her arms. The
child was screaming and nothing would quiet it
down. “Nah, I’ll look tomorrow.” Nothing
seemed worth doing anymore since Jessica’s
tragedy. He had tried to stop her, but
her incessant screaming was just too much. A tear
rolled down his dirty cheek as he thought
of it.
