Brace for: crazy dream

[robin lee]

It was Brace for: Impact’s first show. They were both very excited but very nervous. Impact was hesitant about the whole deal, he thought they were going embarrass themselves. Brace was just as nervous, if not more, but did everything in his power to hide it.

They took the stage. It was The High Noon Saloon. The floor was scattered with people mulling around not paying any attention. Brace raised the microphone to his lips and said, “Ladies and Gentleman, we are Brace for: Impact…and this is our first show.” The vocals were perfect, they were loud and echoed. Braced for: Impact braced for applause; there was none. It was silent for what seemed an eternity until…
“That’s not what you’re supposed to say,” said Cathy the beautiful owner of the bar.
Brace for: Impact looked at each other awkwardly as an even more awkward silence filled the room as if being spewed from a fog machine. “You’re not supposed to let people know you’re gonna suck before you actually suck.” Cathy, the beautiful bar owner, advised over the agreeing crowd.

‘1..2..1, 2,3,4 ‘ Brace counted and Impact began improvising heavy chords. Dark heavy chords…they cut through the room like lights through a tunnel. Ears perked. Eyes attended. Hearts beat. And so did the bass.

Brace jerked his body to and fro letting the heavy chords overpower his senses till words emerged. He sang with the fierce intensity of a man trying to prove something…perhaps his worth? Most likely, his worth. He sang. And Impact played. And together, they made music.

And the crowd. The crowd, the crowd, the crowd bobbed their heads in agreement. Brace for: Impact nodded right back as they improvised something new…something new, something new, something new….

Brace jumped from the stage screaming. Impact sneered a cool sneer and bit his under-lip. The music flowed through them like a flowing metaphor.
They were still nervous, but they used those nerves, they used them to their advantage…their teeth chattered with excitement, their bones tingled with energy.

Brace weaved through the crowd, belching lyrics that he’d not written along with the hesitantly perfect chords erupting from the stage. He weaved through the crowd, out the door, and into his red convertible. The Bracemobile? The impactmobile? The Brace for Impact-mobile!

He revved the engine, put the car in reverse, and squealed out of the parking lot the microphone held to his face with his left hand. He could still hear Impact….he could still feel the intense reaction of the crowd to his voice as he drove down the dark highway into the morning light.

05/04/09