To The Stage

“It doesn’t count if you’re already planning your defeat.”

The whisper was so loud that it wasn’t even intended to be a whisper at all – Akais, drummer of Lash, the band Xyla was opening for, warned her as she walked past.

Xyla already knew that she was being transparent. She wasn’t exactly focusing on hiding her nerves. Still, it heavily hurt the image she wanted to create – the aloof insurgent who was easily distracted, which, she believed was not far from the truth. This stage, though… It was make-or-break, and she couldn’t pretend she was indifferent.

She couldn’t tell if Ryan was feeling as sick as she was. As always, he had his game face on, smiling easily and flirting with just about any backstage personnel, winking and smirking occasionally as if he were running through a script that went his way.

Xyla needed the calm her best friend gave her. She was not leaving a good impression on Akais, and that meant she was not leaving a good impression on her band. When she glanced at him, he understood, of course. Sometimes, he was honestly the dumbest man she had ever known, but if emotional intelligence was a thing, Ryan was its proof. He excused himself away from the still-giggling designer and gave Xyla a hug without a comment.

“No pressure, right?” Xyla was as sarcastic as her trembling voice could let her be.

“Hey, could be worse. It could be five years before, and we would be performing with Nuzzle, Nuzzle.”

She laughed, briefly, but the humor did ease her tension a bit. “I really thought it was a meaningful song about breaking out of… I don’t know, something about love restricting you?”

Ryan pointed out with an amused grin that “The chorus was just Nuzzle.”

The comment was familiar. After a beat, they both realized that it was the exact thing Liron used to say about Xyla and Ryan’s old song. Liron who always mocked bad music and still made theirs something worth listening. Liron who was not even from this planet. Liron who just disappeared without a word.

Of course, Zev heard it, because why not make this awkward on top of stressful?

“Really, guys?” He laughed as he jumped down from the stack of speakers he was sitting on, his petite body giving the illusion of agility in every move he made. “What, anything Liron said is taboo now? Oh no, here goes half the English language. Is sarcasm also illegal now?”

Xyla wanted to comment about how much Zev cried after Liron, but she thought better of it. She had no idea how to make it not condescending. Even Xyla knew better than to hurt a friend needlessly, especially before her debut. It should be celebrated, not tainted with bitter feelings.

“Eh,” Ryan shrugged with a cheerful voice, “I would feel better if he confirmed our song was ‘alright’. Ah, I mean-” he stopped hugging Xyla as he tried to find the words “- I love our song, of course, but getting our songs approved by the God of Music, well… It was a luxury… that I… miss…” His voice got gradually approached the volume of a whisper as he realized he was talking about missing anything about Liron when Zev was looking into his eyes.

Zev didn’t even flinch. “Free critique from a professional, yeah, I got it, I got it. But after this you guys will be professionals yourselves. You’ll set your own standard.”

“What about you?” Xyla couldn’t help but ask him the same question again tonight. “When will you be ‘a professional’?”

Zev had arranged this opening act for X&R because he was friends with Clarissa of Lash. He could easily get this done for himself. This could be his debut.

Of course, after almost a decade knowing him, Xyla knew whenever Zev displayed confidence, it was an act. And his music? That was where most his insecurities laid. Xyla knew that music required you to break out of your shell, though, and was determined enough to repeatedly challenge this one to break out of his shell.

She had to admit that she often felt it was a personal attack on herself – she was a rapper from a bird-like-tribe history didn’t know still existed, and she had come through so many obstacles from elitism to straight up prejudice to stand here. Meanwhile, this rich bitch only had to break through his own self, and he had every opportunity spread under his own palm whenever he was ready. Hell, even performing on this stage was earned through Zev, not only by Xyla’s own skills.

She reminded herself to not belittle her friend’s struggles. It was just… frustrating, when she can see everything she worked for just out of Zev’s reach.

Zev shook his head. “Nah. My debut-” He flipped the blond hair falling into his eyes, and grinned “- will be with a song Liron has produced just for me.”

“And you think he will come back in your lifetime… why?”

“It’s been five years, Xy. The guy might be immortal, but half a decade without the spotlight is longer than eons when you’re that self-absorbed. He will be back.”

He was in denial again. There was a reason why Zev couldn’t get over anyone he fell in love with, least of all Liron. He kept being optimistic for the shakiest reasons, climbed on top of them, and fell when they all went down.

She… honestly wasn’t going to argue it tonight. She needed to focus on her performance.

Turning away, she took a breath. With half an hour left to the show, she needed to get it on. Failure was not an option, and it was all on Xyla’s rap and Ryan’s singing. It was not on blond twinks with ten layers of psychological issues, it was not on immortal aliens randomly deciding to go on and out of the planet, and it was definitely not on young drummers getting the wrong first impression.

She drew confidence from her lyrics.

Here in the belly of the beast, it’s eat it or quit it

Victim of deceit, queen of cheat, pretending it’s sweet

You’re staring at me, telling me I’m unfit

Always been a misfit, like diamond in a tar pit…

By the time she went through all her verses, she felt like herself once more. She was not out of the league, she was her own league. She had a niche style and she was bound to leave a mark.

Two minutes to the start of the show, Xyla got on the platform to be carried to the stage at the top of the troposphere, Ryan at her side, finally feeling true to herself.

Under the unlit spotlights, Xyla and Ryan took their places in the center, invisible to the crowd.

Three…

Two…

One…

Nothing.

The lights stayed off. The crowd on the surface stilled in confusion.

Xyla assumed a small technical malfunction. Rushed voices came from above the stage, supporting her estimation.

She heard Ryan come next to her as the remaining lights shut. She felt rather than saw how someone ran to the stage with a microphone, probably to announce a technical failure, but the microphone didn’t work.

Nothing worked.

The stage fell.

Despite the distance, screams from the crowd down below were loud enough to reach Xyla, joined by Ryan’s next to her. She held him as they fell down to their knees, squeezing her eyes shut and bracing for the impact, as if it was possible to survive the ten-kilometer fall to the ground.

Then she noticed they weren’t falling that fast.

It was fast enough to feel the wind deafen her and lift her cape up, but it was as deathly as a drop tower in some amusement park. Xyla couldn’t open her eyes, but she also didn’t think anyone would be hurt. It was terrifying because it was unplanned.

The realization was a relief, and if she could take a deep breath, she would – but the rapid air flow didn’t allow it.

After what felt simultaneously like forever and a few moments, they crashed softly enough to keep everyone on the stage unharmed, but hard enough for some lights to shatter and bells to detach from the drums and fall to the ground in shingles. Lights finally went back on, and Xyla kept squinting until her eyes adjusted.

That’s when an electric guitar started with a powerful riff.

E major, B7, C major, G major.

D5, D5, C major, G major.

Xyla looked around. No way the guitarist that would play for X&R already got to their feet, and as expected, it was none of the guitars on the stage.

The crowd clearly thought the fall was part of the show, though, and as the riff changed chords and pace, they all screamed again, this time with anticipation.

Confused, Xyla looked for an explanation. She only found wide eyes staring back at her that were just as clueless. Ryan still held onto her, and she tightened her grip in reassurance, finding an ironic harmony between the guitar and Ryan’s gasps next to her ear.

Light rays swirled unnaturally down the middle of the stage from the heavens, and through a level of physics beyond the knowledge of Terramusica’s scientists, materialized a familiar figure.

Liron’s signature guitar shone under the lights that turned back on with his appearance. The long appendages slicked back on top of his head, which Xyla and many others called ‘hair’ for simplicity, were opalescent and made of cold colors of the rainbow. His signature sunglasses laid on top of his head, mysteriously holding themselves up because where a humanoid’s ears would be, Liron did not have anything but his sea blue skin. Rest of his wear was also from Terramusica’s fashion which Liron loved going up to the stage with – a black leather jacket, skin-tight trousers of a more matte color adorned with silver accessories, and a light colored, simple top that created contrast. His left hand was trimmed to hold down the strings, while his right hand shone under the lights with darker colors of the cosmos painted on his claws, picking at the strings with a mastery few mortals could hope to perfect. His tail was neatly waving behind him, completing his rhythm without drawing attention away from the performance.

True to his brand, he looked alien and charming on the stage, and the crowd cheered for the legend’s return so loud that Xyla thought her own feathers were shed with the volume alone.

Lifting a microphone stand with an easy movement of his foot, he started singing, his voice simultaneously rough with his eons of age and smooth with skill to navigate, going high and down appropriately and ending his chorus with a screamo.

Bloomed from galaxies, distracted by some wallflower

Stayed for the sweet and sour, was chained down next hour

When offered a favor, all you wanted was to devour

Did you believe I would forgive, did you believe I would leave you with power?

Liron had left Terramusica without a word and come back five years later without another, and still held his audience captive when they didn’t even come for him. That, combined with his extraterrestrial nature and knowledge extending far beyond Terramusica’s science, was what got him the title God of Music. This song made only of his vocal chords and an electric guitar didn’t fail to remind everyone of his skills – even though the instrument tended to feel naked without others, Liron didn’t let anyone feel something missing with a rich arrangement of chords and fingerstyle, multiple sounds from his guitar with every beat accented by the timing of the strums.

Of course, no one could remove him from the stage by force. The one time Liron was ever restrained by mortal forces was through trickery and a machine engineered to dim his biological functions enough to keep  him paralyzed – saving him from those years of capture was how Xyla, along with Ryan and Zev, actually befriended this arrogant being who often reminded them he was better than everyone on this planet.

Judging by his lyrics, he didn’t come back to forgive and forget that.

Liron always said the only reason he didn’t burn down this entire world after he broke free was his fondness for these three mortals that helped him. Instead, he only burned down the hill on which the base that held him was built, his power flattening it into a wasteland. It always seemed wild to Xyla that this incredibly powerful being never wanted domination to his name – he just loved this planet’s brand of music and he stayed to study and be the best at it. But after his liberation, he just stood silent in a building that served only him, interacting with Xyla and others every couple of weeks or sometimes even months. They thought he kept composing, but never shared it with public, or even with the trio. Liron seemed to be planning his comeback in the most mind-blowing way possible… and then he had just left without a warning.

Liron started his guitar solo with a blast coming from far behind him. Xyla and everyone else could only see the blast on the horizon, the smoke coming up like a mushroom, but it was so far that the only sound heard was a distinct but soft ‘bang’.

The crowd gasped. Ryan’s hold around Xyla tightened. The solo came down to a close, a final ring of a single D major chord ringing through the entire arena.

Liron watched his audience come down from the high he just gave them, a self-assured glint in his glowing blue eyes and half a smile on his ‘mouth’.

It was Liron who broke the silence. “Can’t say the little EXTSCI building didn’t deserve it,” he said nonchalantly.

That meant the explosion probably happened on an Extraterrestrial Science Project site, the very project that held Liron captive for years, and it was no secret. Laws didn’t really extend to alien musicians, after all. Predictably, what was done to Liron appalled many, and public protests were afoot, but no one knew who or what funded the project, and they didn’t seem to care about the protests. Thus when Liron destroyed the EXTSCI hill that had no civilian life on, it only angered the minority that supported his capture, and most wished the return of this particular godlike being without fear. The project was known to be shut down, and yet Liron still sent his message. As for his little stunt with dropping the stage from the top of the troposphere…

“Don’t worry your already limited conscience too much about your precious flying world hall, darlings, I have way too much of your money piled up from my career here. I’ll easily cover the costs and no one is harmed... maybe just a little shaken up with the little adrenaline I provided them. I don’t see the point of hurting those who are admittedly dull yet harmless.”

The assurance that no harm was done to the innocent spread a more confident cheer across the crowd, celebrating the God’s return more openly.

“And what flashier for my comeback than a message to those who dared to once chain me!” He roared, and the crowd went loud once again in approval. The implication of his stay visibly raised the energy in the arena. Although Xyla could notice very small groups parting with Liron’s last words, they hardly held anyone’s attention.

With a breath, she finally stood up, trying to find her footing despite her shaking and pulling Ryan up with her. “Hey, space shrimp!” She yelled to get Liron’s attention. “Did you know it was supposed to be our debut, you asshole?”

Liron laughed heartily, looking entertained by her exclamation. “I assure you Xyla, it was a pure coincidence. I thought I was stealing the show from some popular group, in all honesty.” He tilted his head to the side, his eyes on Xyla and Ryan. “I can make it up by acting as your guitarist tonight. If you’re still going for rap rock for your genre, that is.”

“No! Nope, I don’t want a spotlight hoard like you in my debut, you are going to the backstage nicely, and you are going to listen as I blow your mind on the stage, and then we are going to talk because we have a lot to talk about.”

“And- And- Well, that was actually all I was gonna say too, but I am now gonna yell that I’ve missed you and talk to Zev and also you’re an asshole!” Ryan joined from Xyla’s side, voice shakier than Xyla felt but still determined to make his point – whatever it was.

Liron chuckled. “Aye, aye,” he said with a lilting voice, adding a mock-salute and a wink. “See you next time, Terramusica! Hope you enjoy my protégés.” The crowd cheered one more time for Liron, and he left before Xyla could point out he couldn’t claim mentorship if he were gone for an entire generation of music.

The stage was a mess. Xyla was a mess, Ryan was a mess, and all backup band members were a mess. Regardless, with a nod from Xyla, everyone moved to their instruments, picking and tuning them back up, the audience for once empathetic to the wait after what they had just witnessed. Ryan stood next to her, his usually styled hair windswept, and brought the microphone toward his lips as practiced. The drums initiated the rhythm, and Ryan started singing.  

By the time Xyla started her first verse, her brain was once again fixed on only her music, her message, and her audience she was finally confident to impress.