How to Be a Rock Star

Hi, my name is Skye. I've just turned 24, and I spent the last eight years studying for and devoting my life to a career of internally fixing computers. Besides the job duties being completely monotonous and draining to my soul, it's good work I can pay the bills with and then some, but I never wanted this line of work. Since before I was born, my life has been carefully designed by my father, who passed away a week after my birthday while under hospice care from cancer of the lungs due to a lifetime of smoking those disgusting cigarettes. He went to his grave believing he always did the right thing as a father, and to his credit, he was mostly correct about everything he taught me, and I have no negative feelings towards him over any of his lessons. They made me a better woman and an amazing adult who doesn't smoke cigarettes, so I don't die when my child's barely an adult.

At age 6, I asked my parents for a beginner's drum kit and some books on how to play so I could teach myself. I had always loved listening to rock & roll music with my father as a child, and I wanted to be a drummer in a rock band someday, like the ones I saw on television, but my parents both denied me. I was told to focus on my studies so I could one day choose something more sustainable as a career. Although I was thankful for my inevitable stability, I questioned the validity of something being "sustainable." Is a stable and normal career all that great if I'm unhappily regretting not pursuing my dreams? After my father died, I felt no pull towards my degree and the subsequent career I had built with his approval. I could finally admit I knew myself best; I still wanted to be a rock star by any means possible.

Determined to satisfy the dreams of my nagging inner child, I quit taking overtime and devoted every second off work to learning how to play the drums. I took classes on my days off, Thursdays and Saturdays, taught myself with books and online tutorial videos, and practiced as often as possible with a new drum kit I got carried down in my rental home's basement. It felt good to finally be doing what I have always wanted and not what was expected of me by my parents, but mainly my father. I adored everything about playing the drums, even the constant ache in my arms during my work shifts. I could already imagine myself taking to the performer's stage with a group of people like me, losing myself in the music. I was so close I could almost hear the cheers from our adoring fans. I wanted that life, sweat and fame, and I knew I would achieve it if I put in the effort.

I began posting videos of myself playing the drums on a local online music forum under the username GreySkyes when I felt I was getting enjoyable enough to watch with it. I could mimic a beat from simply hearing it, making the drums more fun than anything I've attempted to learn. It felt like I had taken off with a new language, like I'd found a new means to communicate with the rest of the world in a way that suited me. I was finally experiencing the joy I always knew I would if I went for the life I wanted, a life of adrenaline and thrashing sounds as I poured my soul into every hit. I played for myself, my followers, and most importantly, I played for my deceased father, who may have never encouraged my interest in becoming a drummer, but he had given me the financial freedom to explore it on my own as an adult, and life-changing opportunities came about shortly after.

One morning, two years following my father's death, I woke up to find a message from the lead member of a popular rock band based in my area, whom I knew well after their bass player stumbled upon my videos a few months prior, so we exchanged follows and praised each other's talents. Their drummer had decided to move on to pursue other things, and they were looking for a replacement with as much passion and an ear for playing the drums as I had. I immediately replied and accepted their offer, as this was the final and possibly most important piece to achieving my dream of becoming a rock star: joining an established band and leaving this town behind. They were even preparing for their next tour as a band, twelve venues down the North American East coast, so over 3 months of shows were already waiting for me.

Now, at age 26, I have finally joined a band as their drummer and started touring major cities like I had always dreamed, leaving computers and boring code behind. I have no regrets for my efforts because I know my father is proud of what I've accomplished for myself and my future. I have to thank him every day for his death being my motivation in making my dreams come true and for encouraging me to take the job that allowed me to save for the life of my dreams. I packed my bags with the bare necessities, donating much besides memories, important paperwork, clothes, and the drum kit. My lease would already be up at the end of this month, so I told my landlord I'd be gone by the end of the week when the rest of the band and I would be heading out on the tour bus. Everything was falling in place as it should be, and I was proud of myself because I accomplished this myself. This life was all mine, but I still had my father to thank for it all, or my break out into music wouldn't have been nearly as smooth.