The Audition | Adam's POV

  My whole body feels like it’s on fire.

  Every beat, every note is electric. My mind is racing, a million thoughts at once.

  ‘Finally! A drummer who gets it! A decent one! Not just decent… fuckin’ amazing! Where’d she even come from? The way she hits the crash: so heavy, so full of RAGE-’

  I can’t believe it. She just knows.

  It’s like she can read my mind.

  When I think, ‘yes, I need that blast beat here’, she delivers it perfectly. Then the double bass kicks in.

  ‘This little machine! What the actual fuck?!’

  I glance at her, and she’s looking right back at me.

  ‘Her eyes… They're glowing. She's on fire.’

  The way she locks eyes with me makes everything click. We don’t need to talk; the music is the conversation.

  I scream, pushing every ounce of anger, joy, and excitement into the mic. My heart is pounding in anticipation.

  I don't need to check for her reaction, I can hear it through her beat: it’s getting heavier, more chaotic, like she’s saying fuck yeah, that's what's up.

  ‘This is it. We’re gonna write albums, blow minds. Samuel can choke on it. The whole world’s gonna hear this, and they’ll feel it too. Fuck, this is everything.’

  ‘This is something SHE can’t touch. This is mine. OURS. And it’s gonna burn brighter than anything SHE’s ever tried to kill.’

  Her gaze stays on me, unwavering.

  I like it. I like it a lot.

  Together, we slow the tempo, almost as if we’d rehearsed it a hundred times.

  My fingers ache on the bass strings, raw and burning, but I don’t care. Sweat burns my eyes, and my throat is shredded from screaming, but fuck, it feels good.

  She stumbles for a split second on the fill, but before I can react, she’s back, slamming the crash like it was planned.

  I slow the tempo, testing her, and she’s right there: no hesitation, no glance, just pure instinct.

  ‘Fuck, she’s sharp!’

  The air is thick with the smell of sweat and metal, the walls pulsing with every beat.

  My ears are ringing, but it’s the good kind of pain.

  The kind that means we’re onto something.

  We’re gonna reap some fucking souls.

  Audition- continued | 3rd Person POV

  Nickie’s hands moved instinctively, her feet hammering the double bass pedal. She felt herself getting carried away so her eyes found Adam’s again.

  ‘What’s next? What are you thinking?’ She asked without words.

  He glanced at her, eyes wild, like he was daring her to keep up.

  She nodded once, sharp and quick, like, Let’s do this!... It was time to break.

  Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

  They timed it with the kind of precision that would take most bands months to develop.

  And then Adam screamed.

  Nickie felt her chest tighten.

  ‘Holy shit. His voice!... it’s raw, guttural, endless… what the fuck?!’

  His scream hit her like a punch.

  She flinched.

  Not from fear, but from the sheer power of it. Her chest tightened, and she grinned, feeding off his energy.

  ‘That’s what anger sounds like. That’s what rage sounds like. That’s what I fucking feel too.’

  The raw emotion, the anger, the pain, it poured out of him with every note. The sound reverberated through her, sending a thrill up her spine.

  Adam then glanced at her.

  She met his gaze, her expression filled with awe.

  He felt a spark of pride swell inside him, a warmth he hadn’t felt in so long he almost didn’t recognize it.

  Nickie nodded slightly, as if to say, Yeah. Let’s go again.

  And they did. Again. and again.

  ‘This is insane.’

  She thought.

  ‘This is what Mikey meant… playing with people who feel it too. This is why I stayed up nights practicing, bleeding for this.’

  Her sticks crashed down, arms burning, but she didn't falter. Her grin widened after a heavy breakdown, hair plastered to her forehead, eyes blazing.

  Adam noticed something hiding under her brown hair: a shaved side dyed purple.

  ‘Yep- She’s definitely one of us.’

  Across the room, David watched with wide eyes. He hadn’t expected this: this synergy, this energy, this sound.

  Nickie was matching Adam’s intensity.

  He had been playing alongside them, providing back vocals and guitar riffs, managing to match them with some difficulty, as he was overwhelmed by what was going on.

  It was seamless. It didn’t even feel like an audition anymore; it was as if they had written a new song right there on the spot.

  ‘This is chaos. They’re on another level, and I’m barely hanging on. But damn, it’s good to see him like this.’

  After hours of nonstop playing, Nickie wiped the sweat dripping from her brow. She leaned on her drumsticks, catching her breath. “Okay, guys, it was fun,” she said with a grin.

  Adam glanced at his watch and was startled.

  ‘Two and a half hours? It didn’t even feel like twenty minutes.’

  Nickie grabbed a bottle of water, downing it in one go before wiping her face with her hand. “I gotta catch a bus,” she said casually. “Talk to you later?”

  Adam arched an eyebrow, his tone dry. “So you’re assuming you’re in?”

  For a split second, David and Nickie exchanged glances, unsure how to respond. The tension hung in the air for just a moment before Adam broke into a smile.

  “I’m just fucking with ya, drummer girl.” he said, his grin widening, holding out his fist.

  “Ha! Evil bass boy!” Nickie shot back, smirking as she fist-bumped him lightly.

  David chuckled, though he was completely stunned.

  The smile on Adam’s face.

  It wasn’t his usual half-smirk; it was genuine.

  And the fist bump? Adam NEVER initiates contact like that.

  David felt a pang of excitement, trying to contain it.

  ‘I haven’t seen him like this since… Before everything. He’s alive again, and it’s fucking beautiful. Maybe this is what he needed—someone who can match him.’

  “Guess we got a band!” Adam declared.

  “Next practice we gotta come up with a name.”

  “Got it,” Nickie said, her voice bright as she waved and ran out to catch her bus.

  As soon as the studio door clicked shut, Adam turned to David. “So… you got her phone number, right?”

  David blinked at him. “What?”

  Adam didn’t meet David’s eyes. He kept staring at his hands, rubbing his fingers like the motion might dull the burn.

  “I, uh, forgot to ask her… something. About the cookies. Or whatever. Just text me her number, alright?”

  “Ok. I texted it to you,” David said, coughing into his fist to hide a laugh.

  ‘Sure, something. You’re not fooling anyone, kid.’

  “Cool. Thanks.”

  David watched his younger brother with a mix of awe and amusement.

  ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this excited. This might actually work.’