Chapter 1
Harry sat in the stadium, the thousands of empty seats surrounding were stale reminders of his fading success. The seats were vacant except for him and his two bandmates, the problem being he needed four. His feet pressed against the worn seat in front of him, in three days some rich aristocrat's son will be sitting here courtside at a Lakers game. Harry imagined the kid sitting there, a blonde kid, and kicked the seat, two, three times, until the mud caked into his boots from the November rain fell in between the scaffolding of seats. What distracted him finally was mic feedback, the three-fourths of a band were not completely alone in the stadium. To replace their bass player, Barb,who really likes cats, found about 20 men who would look good on a poster and at least pretend to be playing an instrument.
The band's integrity hasn't mattered for years. To any of them. Ever since the record deal, authenticity was nothing but another job for the marketing team to create. To Harry, authenticity was penciling the scar back onto his face, even though it has been almost invisible for years. The scar was delivered with the death of his parents, by Mort. Victor Crumb, the drummer, smoked fake cigarettes and wore fake glasses. To appeal to all fanbases, he appealed to the girls overcome with the spell of uniqueness. If the fans wanted an outsider mysterious intelligent underdog, that's what they'll get. Ronald Weedlsy, on lead guitar, hadn't written a song in years, the callous on the top knuckle of his middle finger had been gone for almost as long, but the credit still went to him. Seamen Finnegan has always been doing his thing, on synth he was good enough, what kept him in the band was the outrage that would follow if he left. He somehow kept his hair long, and his clothes clean and the smile never left his face. Now more a product of the cocktail of substances he always kept on him. Snorted, smoked but rarely injected, it didn't matter, as long as he had a baseline of a buzz he could outperform the entire band.
The auditionee who created the feedback scrambled to fix it, and nervously started playing. Harry didn't listen, whoever his bandmates wanted would be fine. They all knew no one could ever replace Cedric Gregory. Performance after performance his face remained slack, eyes barely open. Barb stayed standing beside the stage and gave every person a hug on their way off the stage, equally of solace and congratulation.
Only the thirteenth audition caught Harry's attention, the audition began with a tall icy blonde boy slinking through the door, he skipped the introduction that was standard to everyone else and started playing immediately. Harry couldn't believe his eyes, first he only felt confusion but quickly it eroded into red hot rage. His fists balled, knuckles white, his spine became a steel rod. Overcome and confused he stormed out, no one batted an eye. Why would they? Periodically Harry would storm out of the room, even the tour bus sometimes. He tried not to share why but everyone knew, the combination of fame and alienation took its toll on him. The rest of the band already made the decision, Barb surely had.
Outside the stadium Harry paced quickly in the maintenance hall, wringing his hands before crumbling to the floor. Where he sat, his head rested on his hands, breathing through clenched teeth. He couldn't bear to blow up in front of his bandmates. They had no idea about the history Harry and Draco had. Barb knocked on the stair banister in the hallway, her eyes fixed on a harry slumped to the wall like a sock monkey, her lips pressed into what can only be compared to a crack in a tectonic plate, her eyes only held open by her tight ass bun(bruh moment). Her stare was blank, disappointment? Shame? It didn't matter, she was practically an oil tycoon with the cash she was making from their most recent deals, Barb is in for life.
Barb couldn't be bothered today, she was, afterall, not their mother, nor a therapist. Who knew this all came with a degree in public relations. She left him to his devices.
As the door closed behind her a ghostly white hand caught it. The hand flung the door open, attached to the hand was Draco. A smirk nestled its way into his face and he raised his eyebrows.
“Pottah” chuckled Draco
His eyes, the colour of washed out denim ripped a hole into what dignity Harry had left.
“Fok owf Dracowe”
Rage burned his esophagus. His words tasted like an old microwave dinner that had been left on the turntable too long.
“Since when are you a washed up piece of shit, pottah?”
Draco approached Harry in long gliding steps, his PRF (pale rat face) did not budge, only his eyes. Harry glared back at him, before standing up to meet Draco’s eyes. Harry pushed Draco away.
“I don't need a bruise before my next show” mumbled Harry.
“Wot Pottah?”
Draco stepped in front of Harry again, blocking the door. Harry shoved Draco, harder this time. He left no time before reaching for the door handle, as Harry turned the knob he felt Draco's cold, boney hands close around his wrist.
“where doo you think you're goweing Pottah?”
A sick joker smile creeped it way onto Draco’s face (creep like the radiohead song, dracos the creep ((wierdo)) ((play the song in your head now plz))
((((but im a creep.. Im a weirdoooo what the hell am i doing here??)))))
“I’m back pottah, and what are you gonna do about it”
His breath skirted on Harry's face, it smelled like a fag (ciggy) Harry was frozen in his place, the air hung still. Dracos grip tightened around Harry’s wrist but before Harry could try to shake him off, Draco let go and left just as quickly as he came.
Harry didn't return until the last audition, his bandmates were in the same place from before he left, although they did look significantly more bored. Seamen beckoned Harry over smiling, he walked over and sank into the seat three over from his friend. As the last audition came to a close the band gathered around Harry to discuss. Ron started and maintained most of the conversation, talking to himself more than anything. The few times Harry was asked for his opinion he nodded and gave some variation of ‘yeah’ or ‘totally’. Barb made sure to stand at the periphery of the group, quickly knocking out any unfeasible ideas brought up.
“ I liked that weird blonde guy” Victor finally contributed.
Everyone chimed in to agree. Harry stayed quiet, still brooding over the run in with said blonde guy. More praise from the rest of the group followed, which was especially painful.
“He’s a little strange but he's a great player and would fit in great” Seamen mentioned
“Maybe.. I heard from the sound guy that he used to play bass in an orchestra. Not like our kind of bass, the real kind. Like a giant violin. Fucking sick.” Ron responded with a slightly jealous smile on his face.
Barb, not surprisingly, gave her opinion on Draco
“ I think he would be a very good asset to the advertising” after a short pause she continued
“You know what i mean” they all knew what she meant yet she continued
“very attractive.. Great hair, symmetrical face, tall, handsome face. But I must say, Lord forgive me, he does have a slightly rodent-like nose, we can work with it though, that's what all the girls are into now anyways”
The band chuckled, but agreed with her main point.
Harry couldn't take it anymore, he rooted through the pockets of his jeans and his jacket. On the right inside pocket of his leather jacket he found what he was looking for. A small bag half full of a fine white powder and a three inch long gold straw. Leaving no time Harry took the straw, stuck it into the bag and inhaled. His bandmates didn't react, they too after all had identical contents in their pockets. Barb frowned but said nothing. Seconds later, with the feeling of boredom mixed with exhaustion evaporated from his body, he finally decided to join the conversation.
“I think hes a focking idiot”
“Come on man. You didn't even watch him.” Said Seaman in a joking tone.
Harry didn't respond, he was right. What if Draco was as good as they said he was? He got up and broke out of the huddle the group had formed.
“How about we get out of here?” He said.