I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “Of course. I’m in. Absolutely in. When do we start?”
“Sweet,” Josh said. “We’ve got rehearsal on Wednesday night. I’ll text you the address and email you the rest of our songs. We plan to go over some of the new material and work out a set list for our first show. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect,” I said. “I’ll be there.”
“Awesome. We’re looking forward to it. Welcome to Velvet Shadows, Eric.”
“Thanks, man. Seriously. This means the world.”
We said our goodbyes, and the call ended. My phone dropped from my ear and onto the carpeted floor as I stood there, almost paralyzed by the rush of emotions that seemed to be hitting me at once. I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. A full, deep, crazy, wild laugh. I had done it. I had made it into Velvet Shadows.
I walked to the window and stared out at the city—lights blurring into a warm glow in the distance, but for the first time in a while, the world felt different. For all the uncertainty, for all the shitty auditions, for all the days I had doubted myself, tonight was the night I had crossed the threshold into something real. I wasn’t just playing drums anymore; I was part of something bigger.
I checked the time. It was late, but I didn’t care. I grabbed my jacket and headed out. It wasn’t like I had anywhere to be right then, but I needed to do something. I needed to celebrate this moment, and a bar seemed like the best idea. Somewhere I could sit and let everything soak in, where I could drink to the next chapter of my life. So, I called my siblings and a few friends and told them the news, asking them to meet me for a few celebratory drinks.
By the time I got to the bar, the weight of the call had started to hit me. This wasn’t just some gig—I could be doing tours, getting noticed by labels, maybe even recording some real music.
I ordered a beer and sat down at a small table in the corner, letting the noise of the bar fade into the background as I sank into the quiet joy of the moment. The walls around me felt a little closer than usual, the sounds a little sharper, as if everything had suddenly come into focus. I wasn’t justdrifting anymore. I wasn’t just looking for my place in the world. I had found it.
A few friends showed up, and we talked and laughed, and as the night wore on, I couldn’t stop smiling. I thought about the rehearsals ahead, the gigs we would play, the music we would make. Velvet Shadows was just a name right now, but soon it would be the sound of our music, the way we made people feel when we hit the stage. The way the crowd would move with us, the way the lights would shine down on us as we played our hearts out.
I was ready.
I hadfinallyreached my goal of being a drummer in a band. Not as a fill-in or just for fun. A real, full-time drummer.
And now, there was no looking back.
EIGHTEEN
Eric
? The Pretender – Foo Fighters ?
Iwas nervous as hell. Even though I’d gotten the call a few days ago, officially joining Velvet Shadows still felt more like a dream than a reality. The nervous buzz in my stomach had started before I left my apartment, but now, it was almost unbearable.
I took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, made my way through the parking lot, and pushed the door open. The band’s practice space was on the edge of town in a small industrial area, an old warehouse converted into a rehearsal studio with low ceilings, soundproofed walls, and a decent PA system. According to the few texts I’d exchanged with Josh, it was where they had been crafting their sound for the past few months. The room itself smelled of stale coffee, sweat, and wood polish—an aroma I’d come to associate with any rehearsal space that had seen its fair share of late nights.
The lights were dim—nothing more than a few scattered, harsh white bulbs hanging from the ceiling—but the equipment in the room was top-notch. The drum kit in the corner looked like it had been assembled with care, not the random cobbled-together collection of borrowed gear that some bands used for practice. A part of me wanted to sit down and get comfortable, but I knew it was too soon for that.
“Hey, Eric, you made it!” Josh’s voice was familiar from the phone call, though hearing it in person again gave it a new weight. He was standing by the mic stand, flipping his hair out of his eyes and grinning. He was lean, his black hoodie hanging open to reveal a vintage AC/DC shirt.
I gave a quick wave and stepped in. “Yeah, sorry I’m a little early.”
Josh shrugged. “No problem, man. You want a drink or anything?”
I shook my head. “I’m good.”
Max gave me a nod from the other side of the room. He had his guitar slung low, his fingers absentmindedly strumming as he adjusted the dials on his amp. His messy brown hair made him look like he had just rolled out of bed, but the confidence in his posture told me he knew exactly what he was doing.
Kevin was in the back corner, inspecting his gear. Tattoos I hadn’t seen during my audition wound down both of his arms. His expression was unreadable as he fiddled with his bass, adjusting the tone.
“We’ve got some new material to go over tonight,” Josh said, picking up a water bottle and taking a sip. “But first, let’s go through our staples and get you familiar with our set list. You ready?”
I nodded, even though my nerves were starting to fray. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”
Josh motioned toward the drums. “Alright, hop in and get comfortable. We’ll run through a couple of our tracks, just so we can all get a feel for how we play together.”
I walked over to the kit. It was set up just like I liked it—snare at the right height, the toms spread out just the way I needed them. I pulled my sticks out of my pocket, twirling them in my hands to loosen up. My palms were damp with sweat, but I pushed that aside.
