Cavalier Eternel
This is the final version of my story. Enjoy!
I based it off of a short story from a friend (http://www.fictionpress.com/~juliamars), and borrowed some good lines and the title from "Cavalier Eternel" by Against Me!.
I never really liked this song.
Sure, it was our hit. I wrote it a year ago, and it was a runaway hit. But it was cheezy and lame only in a way that Cheap Trick would understand. ("I Want You to Want Me"? Seriously. Come the fuck on.)
This was a live show, so of course this song had to be acoustic. Which means I'm stuck on stage while everyone else in the band is getting high, drunk, or both.
"I never really liked this song," I say into the mic to the thousands of screaming fans, "but you guys like it, and the rest of the fucking band likes it. Good enough for me, I guess." I start the song.
And out came the cell phones. Fucking cell phones. I miss the good ole' days with lighters, and I wasn't even around for that.
Midway through the song. "Good night, Julia..." I sing. My eyes shut for that extra special artistic effect. I open my eyes to look at my guitar for the next chord. No need, I've played this song too damn many times.
I look out in the crowd.
Why is she here? Our eyes lock. (Key change, by the way. A-minor. Apparently it’s a “chilling” part of our song. Whatever.)
I finish the song, completely unable to avert my eyes.
The stadium is silent. Cell phone lights have long gone out, but still held in the air.
I finally break eye contact. I blink a couple of times...tears? When...?
The crowd erupts in a roar of applause. "Thank you! Good night!" I shout into the mic.
Of course, we play an encore, a fast-as-hell punk cover of "I Want You to Want Me" by Cheap Trick. And it fucking ROCKED. Never heard us sound so good, so tight. Everything was together.
We get back stage. Quickly we hop in the van, ready to take us to the hotel. We're about to shut the door and
speed off.
"Hey, nice show tonight." Sigh. A fan. Persistant bunch.
"Um, sorry, we don't sign autographs."
I turn to look.
It’s her.
Without hesitating: "Grand America. Room 313."
At the hotel. We go up to our rooms.
She's already there.
"Um, I'll see you all later." I say to my band mates.
I'm barely able to get the last words out before she grabs my face with her hands, pulls me down to her, our lips meeting. My eyes shut. I feel her heart racing as she reaches behind me. All of a sudden the door disapears and I stumble back.
I nearly fall but she holds me there. I grunt as the door knob smashes into my kidney. She pulls her head back, slightly. "Sorry..." she says, before resuming the kiss.
Our drummer shouts after us, "Hey! It's about time you got some pu-" and is cut off when the door is kicked shut.
I forgot how talented she is. Already down to her undershirt. Her shoes were kicked off, losing about 3 inches.
I was actually starting to like this. It HAD been a while. It's about time. But, I realize who I was about to run past second base with.
I try pulling back, but she only pushes harder, running me into the bed. I put my hands on her shoulders, and gently push. She pushes me back to the edge of the bed clipping me right behind my knees. I fall back.
She's on top of me, straddling, a smile on her face.
"N-" is all I can get out before she smothers me with another kiss. She IS attractive. Why am I resisting? Ah. I remember.
I grab her shoulders again, and push. She won't let up. I roll to my left and push, finally releasing myself from her grasp. I stand up. My pants had ben undone. Damn, she's good. I nearly fall over.
"Look, it's over between us. I don't want to see you again." I head for the door, pulling my pants up.
"Wait."
"No." Continue walking. Don't go back.
"Please...Wait." There's that tone in her voice. Almost, but not quite. Don't let her get to you.
"No." I'm at the door. I grab my shoes, open the door, and start walking out.
"I...I love you."
My weakness. I stop in the door way. "I'm guessing you want to talk withOUT trying to rape me the second I get close?"
She's hurt. "Y...yes."
I turn around and sit on the bed, a space between us. She pulls her purse on her lap.
"You know," she says as she wipes the corners of her eyes, "I wasn't expecting this." She pulls a small felt box out. I recognize the shape immediately.
She smiles, lost in memory. "I remember..." She laugh/sobs. "I remember you telling me, like 3 or 4 years ago, that it wasn't fair that the girl wore the engagement ring, and the guy didn't get to wear anything to show he was engaged." She laughs again, with less of a sob. She opens the box. "I...I know you'd think I'm crazy if I asked you to marry me, but..." She pauses, gathering courage. "I was wondering if maybe you'd like to try again?"
I look at the ring itself. A metal band, with a diagonal stripe of small emeralds. She knows me well. I put my hand on the box...and... what?
What do I do?
If I take the box, I'd have to quit the band. I’d buy a nice house in Ogden, probably in Weber Canyon. I'd live a nice, normal, quiet life in suburbia. Maybe have a few kids. Normal. Quiet.
Boring.
But, suppose I refuse. Life goes on as it has for the past 10 years. I continue being a rock-god, and retire whenever my fingers fall off or when "Goodnight, Julia" is turned into a piano piece and played as musak at fine Dillards and Albertson's everywhere.
However, I know that I'll never settle down with anyone. I'd be giving up "true love" if I gave the ring back.
But, you know what?
Fuck true love.
I shut the box, and push it towards her.
True love does not exist. My proof is right in front of me.
"No. I'm sorry. We've discussed this before. Why I say no is the same reason I broke up with you two years ago."
"Was it Kevin?"
"No, not Kevin. Or Roger. Or Phil. Or any of the other men you've slept with, cause I've slept with other women." As far as she knows. "You wanted me to settle down, raise a family. You wanted me to quit my music! I can't do that. I’m in a rock band. I love what I do. It's who I am. I can't quit music. If I marry you, I'd have to play behind your back. I wouldn't want to do that. Not to you."
She starts sobbing uncontrollably. "I.." Sob. "I thought you said..." Another sob, "this was...t-true love."
"Fuck true love!" She starts crying even louder. "I don’t want to change my self just for that true love bullshit." I calm myself down, and put a hand on her shoulder. "Let me go. Please. For both our sake. You're not feeling love anymore. You're feeling grief over a dead emotion."
She seems to calm own, putting the felt box in her purse. "I...I guess you're right. I just...I just thought I could have you again." She pauses, a soft sigh. "I was wrong..."
"Look. You'll get over me. One of these days, while I'm on the road, I'm gonna call from a pay phone at a truck stop or something, and you know what you're gonna tell me? You're gonna tell me how much better off you've been on your own."
"You think?" she says, unsure.
"Yeah. I know you won't forget me. But you'll move on, I know you will."
"If you say so..." She doesn't sound convinced. She wipes tears away. I stand up.
"Well, I should get going." I start heading for the door. "Good night, Julia."
Wait...
"Good b-...Julia? Hold on. I knew it. Tonight…that song…”
Damn.
"There was ...something... in that song," she continues. “You…wrote that for me…you…you still love me, don’t you?”
I stand in the doorway, my head partially turned towards her, the light from the hallway casting my back into a shadow.
"Good night, Jackie."
And I'm out, of her life and the room.
I'm in the door way of the band's room. The drummer is there, and the room is smoky.
"Dude...did you finally get any?"
"No..." I cough. This is why I never stay with the band. I make up an excuse as to why I'm here. "Look, I'm gonna go to the Starbucks around the corner, do you want anything?"
"Nah, man. We won't want anything, we're about to crash sometime soon." He pauses, about to say something, like he's trying to find the words. "I'm sorry about the girl situation...but, how come you never messed with any groupies with us, anyways?"
"I never wanted to, that's all." Saying bye, I quickly get out of the smoke, the drummer on to more important things, like his bong.
I'm outside, catching fresh air. Down the street, a bus stop, illuminated by a cone of light. Standing in that cone is a slim, attractive female figure, head down, body shaking.
Jackie.
I never really liked this song.
"Good night, Julia..."
But I think I do now.
I based it off of a short story from a friend (http://www.fictionpress.com/~juliamars), and borrowed some good lines and the title from "Cavalier Eternel" by Against Me!.
I never really liked this song.
Sure, it was our hit. I wrote it a year ago, and it was a runaway hit. But it was cheezy and lame only in a way that Cheap Trick would understand. ("I Want You to Want Me"? Seriously. Come the fuck on.)
This was a live show, so of course this song had to be acoustic. Which means I'm stuck on stage while everyone else in the band is getting high, drunk, or both.
"I never really liked this song," I say into the mic to the thousands of screaming fans, "but you guys like it, and the rest of the fucking band likes it. Good enough for me, I guess." I start the song.
And out came the cell phones. Fucking cell phones. I miss the good ole' days with lighters, and I wasn't even around for that.
Midway through the song. "Good night, Julia..." I sing. My eyes shut for that extra special artistic effect. I open my eyes to look at my guitar for the next chord. No need, I've played this song too damn many times.
I look out in the crowd.
Why is she here? Our eyes lock. (Key change, by the way. A-minor. Apparently it’s a “chilling” part of our song. Whatever.)
I finish the song, completely unable to avert my eyes.
The stadium is silent. Cell phone lights have long gone out, but still held in the air.
I finally break eye contact. I blink a couple of times...tears? When...?
The crowd erupts in a roar of applause. "Thank you! Good night!" I shout into the mic.
Of course, we play an encore, a fast-as-hell punk cover of "I Want You to Want Me" by Cheap Trick. And it fucking ROCKED. Never heard us sound so good, so tight. Everything was together.
We get back stage. Quickly we hop in the van, ready to take us to the hotel. We're about to shut the door and
speed off.
"Hey, nice show tonight." Sigh. A fan. Persistant bunch.
"Um, sorry, we don't sign autographs."
I turn to look.
It’s her.
Without hesitating: "Grand America. Room 313."
At the hotel. We go up to our rooms.
She's already there.
"Um, I'll see you all later." I say to my band mates.
I'm barely able to get the last words out before she grabs my face with her hands, pulls me down to her, our lips meeting. My eyes shut. I feel her heart racing as she reaches behind me. All of a sudden the door disapears and I stumble back.
I nearly fall but she holds me there. I grunt as the door knob smashes into my kidney. She pulls her head back, slightly. "Sorry..." she says, before resuming the kiss.
Our drummer shouts after us, "Hey! It's about time you got some pu-" and is cut off when the door is kicked shut.
I forgot how talented she is. Already down to her undershirt. Her shoes were kicked off, losing about 3 inches.
I was actually starting to like this. It HAD been a while. It's about time. But, I realize who I was about to run past second base with.
I try pulling back, but she only pushes harder, running me into the bed. I put my hands on her shoulders, and gently push. She pushes me back to the edge of the bed clipping me right behind my knees. I fall back.
She's on top of me, straddling, a smile on her face.
"N-" is all I can get out before she smothers me with another kiss. She IS attractive. Why am I resisting? Ah. I remember.
I grab her shoulders again, and push. She won't let up. I roll to my left and push, finally releasing myself from her grasp. I stand up. My pants had ben undone. Damn, she's good. I nearly fall over.
"Look, it's over between us. I don't want to see you again." I head for the door, pulling my pants up.
"Wait."
"No." Continue walking. Don't go back.
"Please...Wait." There's that tone in her voice. Almost, but not quite. Don't let her get to you.
"No." I'm at the door. I grab my shoes, open the door, and start walking out.
"I...I love you."
My weakness. I stop in the door way. "I'm guessing you want to talk withOUT trying to rape me the second I get close?"
She's hurt. "Y...yes."
I turn around and sit on the bed, a space between us. She pulls her purse on her lap.
"You know," she says as she wipes the corners of her eyes, "I wasn't expecting this." She pulls a small felt box out. I recognize the shape immediately.
She smiles, lost in memory. "I remember..." She laugh/sobs. "I remember you telling me, like 3 or 4 years ago, that it wasn't fair that the girl wore the engagement ring, and the guy didn't get to wear anything to show he was engaged." She laughs again, with less of a sob. She opens the box. "I...I know you'd think I'm crazy if I asked you to marry me, but..." She pauses, gathering courage. "I was wondering if maybe you'd like to try again?"
I look at the ring itself. A metal band, with a diagonal stripe of small emeralds. She knows me well. I put my hand on the box...and... what?
What do I do?
If I take the box, I'd have to quit the band. I’d buy a nice house in Ogden, probably in Weber Canyon. I'd live a nice, normal, quiet life in suburbia. Maybe have a few kids. Normal. Quiet.
Boring.
But, suppose I refuse. Life goes on as it has for the past 10 years. I continue being a rock-god, and retire whenever my fingers fall off or when "Goodnight, Julia" is turned into a piano piece and played as musak at fine Dillards and Albertson's everywhere.
However, I know that I'll never settle down with anyone. I'd be giving up "true love" if I gave the ring back.
But, you know what?
Fuck true love.
I shut the box, and push it towards her.
True love does not exist. My proof is right in front of me.
"No. I'm sorry. We've discussed this before. Why I say no is the same reason I broke up with you two years ago."
"Was it Kevin?"
"No, not Kevin. Or Roger. Or Phil. Or any of the other men you've slept with, cause I've slept with other women." As far as she knows. "You wanted me to settle down, raise a family. You wanted me to quit my music! I can't do that. I’m in a rock band. I love what I do. It's who I am. I can't quit music. If I marry you, I'd have to play behind your back. I wouldn't want to do that. Not to you."
She starts sobbing uncontrollably. "I.." Sob. "I thought you said..." Another sob, "this was...t-true love."
"Fuck true love!" She starts crying even louder. "I don’t want to change my self just for that true love bullshit." I calm myself down, and put a hand on her shoulder. "Let me go. Please. For both our sake. You're not feeling love anymore. You're feeling grief over a dead emotion."
She seems to calm own, putting the felt box in her purse. "I...I guess you're right. I just...I just thought I could have you again." She pauses, a soft sigh. "I was wrong..."
"Look. You'll get over me. One of these days, while I'm on the road, I'm gonna call from a pay phone at a truck stop or something, and you know what you're gonna tell me? You're gonna tell me how much better off you've been on your own."
"You think?" she says, unsure.
"Yeah. I know you won't forget me. But you'll move on, I know you will."
"If you say so..." She doesn't sound convinced. She wipes tears away. I stand up.
"Well, I should get going." I start heading for the door. "Good night, Julia."
Wait...
"Good b-...Julia? Hold on. I knew it. Tonight…that song…”
Damn.
"There was ...something... in that song," she continues. “You…wrote that for me…you…you still love me, don’t you?”
I stand in the doorway, my head partially turned towards her, the light from the hallway casting my back into a shadow.
"Good night, Jackie."
And I'm out, of her life and the room.
I'm in the door way of the band's room. The drummer is there, and the room is smoky.
"Dude...did you finally get any?"
"No..." I cough. This is why I never stay with the band. I make up an excuse as to why I'm here. "Look, I'm gonna go to the Starbucks around the corner, do you want anything?"
"Nah, man. We won't want anything, we're about to crash sometime soon." He pauses, about to say something, like he's trying to find the words. "I'm sorry about the girl situation...but, how come you never messed with any groupies with us, anyways?"
"I never wanted to, that's all." Saying bye, I quickly get out of the smoke, the drummer on to more important things, like his bong.
I'm outside, catching fresh air. Down the street, a bus stop, illuminated by a cone of light. Standing in that cone is a slim, attractive female figure, head down, body shaking.
Jackie.
I never really liked this song.
"Good night, Julia..."
But I think I do now.