Fighting Faith

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Fighting Faith Copyright © 2012 Brandie Buckwine

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Fighting Faith

By

Brandie Buckwine

It was like being high. The band fed on the energy from the audience, and tonight, the audience was explosive. It was as if they knew this performance was the beginning of something big.

From the Soundgarden cover,
Blow Up the Outside World
, to his own,
Losing Myself to You
, the crowd couldn’t get enough Utopian Society. Neither could Eric. He tore up the stage, his lead guitar and vocals at their best. There was no hurry to sift through the rush of women that waited to pounce on him after the show, guaranteeing him a night of hot sex— always a bonus of playing live. No. If he could, he would play all night tonight, just to keep the feeling alive.

At a table near the stage, Sarah, Jose’s girlfriend —their biggest fan— sang along and blew kisses at the drummer. Eric had to laugh. The two were like teenagers, inseparable. Jose ignored Eric’s warning, making it too obvious he had a girlfriend could hurt the band, especially when Jose attracted more women than the rest of them. Even Tim and Daniel, the plainer of the foursome, had more women chasing them than they could handle. If the music industry rumors were true, the number of women would skyrocket once they released a real CD and began to tour. No more local gigs after tonight. The next time they came to Rockabilly Hole, it would be to party and dance with the rest of the patrons.

Eric glanced toward Sarah’s table again. A woman sat with her, a gorgeous woman. The woman looked to the stage and met his eye. Gorgeous was an understatement; she was a Goddess.

She smiled and Eric missed a beat and forgot the lyrics to Default’s,
Deny
. He looked away, determined to keep his groove and make this his best show ever. If he could impress the hell out of Sarah’s friend, it was a bonus.

Seven songs later, they thanked the audience and made their way offstage, as the crowd screamed for more. In an attempt to hide his eagerness, Eric did not follow the guys to the table; instead, he headed to the bar. Women swarmed him. He glanced to Sarah’s friend to make sure she saw the women clamoring to get his attention, hoping to take him home.

To his fan’s dismay, he finished his drink, pecked a few of them on the cheek, and headed to join his friends. He pulled up a chair and sat. Sarah interrupted Daniel’s story about the black eye he received at the hands of an over-zealous groupie, to introduce her friend.

“Eric, this is Faith, the one I’ve been telling you about. Faith ran with the same crowd Jose and I did back in high school.”

Faith smiled and extended her hand. His brain turned to mush as he grasped it within his own, but he kept it together, giving her a cool nod.

“She’s a videographer and she’s interested in doing the documentary of the band’s studio recordings,” Sarah said.

The record label suggested they document their sessions as a promotional tool, and right away, Sarah and Jose offered their friend’s services. Paying for it was the issue. They brought in a decent living playing to larger crowds than in years past, but the kind of production they wanted would cost some serious bucks.

“Faith will work with us on the price, I’m sure of it,” Sarah told them when she first mentioned the idea.
Us
? Since when was she part of the band? Still, with the prospect of someone who would work cheap, Eric overlooked Sarah’s assumption.

“How long have you been in business, Faith?” he asked.

“I’ve been out on my own for about three years. Before that, I worked for Icon Productions.” Up close, she was even more beautiful, and she had the cutest dimples. “Judging from what you just saw, do you think you could work with us?” Eric asked.

“I do, I love your energy, but I have to ask, do you have any material with any original rhythm patterns for your album?” The blood drained from Eric’s face and his gut seized. “I mean, if you really hope to make an impact as an up-and-coming band, you can’t just copy what’s already out there. After a while, everybody starts to sound the same and no one lasts more than two releases.” The table’s other occupants shifted nervously, all eyes on Eric. The blood, which fled moments before, raced back, making his head pound and his pulse race. “I write all our songs,” he said through his teeth. “It’s all original.”

Faith took a drink from her beer, unaware of how close she was to being picked up and thrown out of the club. “I’m sure you did write them, and they’re good, but every riff and pattern is taken from another song. Eddie Van Halen says , eventually, you have to put your own mark—”

“I know what Eddie says,” he slammed his drink down on the table, now seeing the woman across from him for the bitch she really was.

“Okay, you don’t have to get so mad. I was just making an observation.”

“Leave the song writing to me, and you can go make your little videos somewhere else.” He stood, “Yeah, that’s right, fuck you.” He stormed away, tossing “bitch,” over his shoulder, satisfied he made his point. Who the hell did she think she was, telling him how to write music? What kind of production princess went around quoting Eddie Van Halen?

Eric downed several drinks at the bar, reevaluating his plans for the night, until he saw two men approach Faith and his friends. Both men fawned over the trollop, kissing her cheeks and rubbing her shoulders. She stood, took one on each arm, and the three exited the club together.
Slut!

How didn’t he guess that about her? Usually a much better judge of character, he disappointed himself.

Last call and two drinks in his hands, he returned to the table. They all stared at him, but no one spoke.

“What?”

Sarah shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. “I can’t believe you were such a dick to Faith. You do know it will be impossible to find anyone else who’s decent for the job, don’t you?”

“Yeah, you really blew it, man,” Tim nodded.

“I’m sure we can find someone else. I don’t want to work with that cunt.”

“Eric!” Sarah squealed.

“I’m sorry, but that woman is the devil in disguise.”

“She happens to be a very close friend, and she’s one of the nicest people I know. It’s not her fault you can’t take a little constructive criticism.”

“Constructive criticism? Is that what you think that was? She doesn’t know shit! People love our songs.”

“Love them or not, you’re going to have to suck it up and work with her,” Daniel said. “I’ve checked around, and anyone else will be so far beyond our budget, it just won’t happen.” Jose nodded.

“You too, Jose? Am I the only one who can see this is a bad idea?”

“Sorry, Bro. I’ve seen her work, and she’s an artist. Even if there is someone else out there as cheap, I bet she’s ten times better.”

Outnumbered, Eric conceded. It was only for a couple of weeks. He could survive it, but he determined to make her life hell until it was over.

***

Bundling the two tripods under her arm, Faith swung her camera bag over her shoulder. She was late, and she knew Eric would be an asshole about it. She lost track of time going over Mark and Patrick’s civil union ceremony. They made such a sweet couple, and she owed them for rescuing her from Eric and his buddies the other night after their show. Tripping across the parking lot to the studio, she promised herself she’d finish their video that night and drop it by their house.

Sure enough, as soon as she walked into the studio, Eric started in.

“It’s about time. You’re supposed to run on our schedule, not the other way around.” She wanted to slap the sneer off his face.

“Why? Did you have a quality moment of talent, and I missed it?” It was all she could do not to burst out laughing at the look on his face.
So easily ruffled. This is going to be fun.
The man
did
have talent, not that she’d ever tell him that, but there was a barrier between his current abilities and greatness. He was so close, though. That was the only reason she accepted the job: she wanted to be around and involved when he finally jumped the hurdle and found his gift. Well, that and because Jose was an old friend. She’d do anything for him or Sarah.

There was also the fact she felt like a bitch in heat whenever Eric was near. The first time he smiled at her, she creamed in response. He was sexy beyond belief and chock full of charisma, but he had an ego as great as the pyramids, a huge turn-off. It was kind of a relief he turned off the charm and turned on the asshole whenever she was around.

She set up her tripods and cameras in optimal locations, and checked her remotes while the band warmed up. Everything was ready. She started with her handheld, just walking around focusing in on each band member in succession.

Eric stopped playing mid-song. “What’s the point of putting all your shit in our way if you aren’t even going to use it?”

“It doesn’t look like it’s in your way, and how do you know I’m not using it?” She held up one of the small remotes.

A quick shake of his head, and Eric started them over from the beginning. After a few minutes, he told them all to stop. “Tim, stop trying to play with me on this. You’re bass. You don’t follow Daniel and me.”

“I’m not. I’m trying to fill in the blanks, I just can’t tell where you’re going ‘cause you keep changing it up.”

Faith couldn’t resist. “I don’t play bass — I fill space.” Eric’s head whipped around to look at her.

“That’s good, I like that,” Tim said. “How’d you come up with it?”

“She didn’t,” Eric growled. “It’s a quote from Rick Danko.”

“Who is Rick Danko?”

“Arguably one of the best bass players in history,” Eric said, just as Faith said, “The best bass player ever.” He scowled at her. “How do you know of him?”

“I’m a student of rock and roll,” she shrugged. “I probably should have learned to play, but my parents didn’t want me to. They wanted me to go into law.”

“They must be so proud,” Eric said, rolling his eyes. He turned to Tim, “Seriously, how do you call yourself a bass player, but don’t know who Rick Danko is?”

“Sorry,” he shrugged. “I just play. It’s easier when I have something to play along with.” Faith turned her head away to grin, but she could sense Eric’s rage.
Temper, temper!

She spent the next ten hours waiting for them to get it right. A quick dinner break to a burger joint around the corner proved Tim and Daniel to be nice guys. Thankfully, Eric stayed behind.

“So, seriously Faith, how do you know all these obscure quotes from famous guitarists?” Tim asked, sticking a fry in his mouth. “I loved the Eddie Van Halen thing the other night.”