Aidan’s show

“Take me up
I’ve been so far down
Keep me moving
Just don’t stop now…”

I play the song repetitively in my head, over and over again. Regardless of how many ways I play it, I still can’t find the lyrics to make it a song. In the beginning of all of this, it was so easy. I’d make up some silly shit with my mates, add a few riffs and Kane would pop in with a double kick or twelve and we’d sell out venues. But now? I can’t even hum a bloody tune I’m so empty.

I feel absolutely cashed. I hear the commotion in the hall way. I know it’s the girls. Little do they know they’re lining up to blow a future has-been. I doubt they’d even care. They’re only excitement is the thrill of claiming to have lain down with me once upon a time when I was who I will be then. I hear the roar of the packed house. I should be excited, I should be fucking pumped. We made it. We did it. We became bloody rock stars.

I hear a knock on the door, Geoff pops his head in, “Aidan, you’ve got two minutes, buddy. Take the back stairwell into the theatre. It’s Goddamn chaos out here.”

I nod and put a t-shirt on before standing up to head out the back door.

As I start up the massive stairs to the stage, I can hear the crowd chanting for us. I can see the bright lights blazing.

I internally admonish myself, “You did this. This is all you, man…”

And I don’t even care.

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I'm a single mother, a design blog junkie, an aspiring interior designer and a hopeless romantic who is in love with pretty much everything.

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