[cm] Clench
He had choices. He always did, but sometimes those choices left a bitter taste in his mouth. Those kinds always compromised his roles as a man and gave him reason to be more upset than any other time. In fact, when Sal was vexed, a trail of damage always seemed to be left in his wake.
The night had been pretty typical of a Saturday evening. Rehearsals went without a hitch, which was a relief since the group had hired on two tech guys to help with set up and tear down. This came as a suggestion from Ziyah who helped lure over James 'Bud' Clayton and Robbie 'Chill' Bateman from another local band who really couldn't afford them. Little by little, the petite but very pregnant Italian woman who had devoted alot of her Vegas time to helping the band get just a smidge bit further in the grander scheme of things.
The first 4 songs went on with no problems, but when they started in on 'Lie to Me', Sal felt the eyes on him. Of course there was many eyes on him, it was part of being front and centre stage. The uneasiness of being watched in a far more intimate manner unnerved him, making it hard to concentrate. He had no idea who or why and the buzz couldn't be pinpointed of that of another Immortal or just the different mix of fans standing before him.
It was decided then that he had no choice but to just keep on as best he could. Mistakes still happened, but only audible ones to the band themselves. The audience had no idea and that much was obvious with the raised fists and devil horns high above each patrons head while they chanted "Control Freak" inbetween songs. They wanted more. They always wanted more.
The feeling continued, swelling into a growing lump of frustration in the pit of his stomach--burning as he let out the infamous deep, raspy notes that seemed to gain his band the notoriety it had. The feeling just mounted until it started showing in the more aggressive melodies. His tame, playful showmanship turned hard.
For the remainder of the show, his brothers passed questionable glances and shoulder shrugs but went on without pause--one song after the other until the show ended and the encore had been performed.
Even the post band pow wow was passed with Sal disappearing. Sizz stuck around long enough to figure out that it must have been something that happened before the show, leaving with a promise to himself that he would call his brother later.
The house was empty when he finally emerged. The strain was no longer, which allowed the front man a chance to breath in a deep, cleansing breath as he bid the lingering staff a goodnight.
The moment he stepped outside though, the feeling from before strangled him.
He chose to huddle down into his thick black jacket, clenching the lapels while disappearing from whatever eyes had managed to find him once again. Anger fired into his eyes, blazing with animosity as he took large steps down the Strip towards the Flamingo.
The unknown is what bothered him most. Fear of the unexpected forced a quiver of fury as his eyes darted back and forth while his ears narrowed in on what was going on behind him.
'You look a lot smaller off the stage..'
Sal whipped his head towards the voice, which came from a darkened parking lot not more than 30 feet in front of him.
'The shitty thing here is you guys play some decent music. It's a shame I have to bust the band up.'
No sooner than Sal could blink, he caught the glistening of a sword in front of him and the crack of a pistol come from behind him--forcing him to duck instinctively.
When he looked up, the man who was talking not more than 30 seconds ago was laid out, only a darkened silhouette sprawled on the pavement. He spun quickly, his eyes now settling on a small figure.
'Get out of here, Sal. We'll talk about this tomorrow.'
The voice rang familiar, but in the heat of the moment, it wouldn't come to him.
At least not until she stepped to the side and her pregnant stomach became visible.