Max came forward with his guitar in hand. He gave a casual look at the others. “We’re starting with ‘Eye of the Storm’, right?”
“Yeah,” Josh agreed, then looked back at me. “You good with that one?”
“Yep, all good,” I replied. It was another fast, punk-inspired song—punchy, aggressive, the kind of track that didn’t let up.
“Alright, let’s go,” Josh said. He stood tall, adjusting the mic in front of him, taking a breath as though preparing to dive into the chaos of the song. “One, two, three, four!”
The music hit me like a freight train.
Max’s guitar riff exploded first—sharp and distorted, cutting through the air with precision. Kevin’s bass locked in immediately, that low rumbling groove filling the space beneath us. I jumped in, my foot pressing down hard on the bass drum, my hands working in a frenzy to keep up with the pace. The tempo was fast, but not impossible.
I pushed myself, trying to match their intensity, feeling the thrum of the kick drum vibrating up my legs. Josh’s voice came in delivering the chorus with that husky tone that made his vocals so unique.
Therewas a moment about halfway through the song when I realized something—we weren’t just playing together—we were communicating. The way Kevin’s bass bounced off my snare, the way Max’s guitar swirled in the spaces between my fills—it was like we were reading each other’s minds, anticipating every shift in the song.
Josh’s eyes locked on mine for a split second during the bridge, and I saw that spark. That look that said,we’ve got this.I knew in that moment that being part of this band wasn’t some fluke. I had been their missing piece, and now, we were a unit.
The song ended with a crashing cymbal, and for a second, all I could hear was the ringing in my ears. I sat back on the throne, breathing heavily, my palms clammy and heart racing.
“Damn, man,” Max said with a grin. “You keep up pretty well.”
Josh laughed. “You think? I think he’s got more in him than we expected.”
Kevin, who had been stoic throughout the process of bringing me in, finally cracked a smile. “Godyou’re good, man. Where’s all the awkward fumbling? It’s like you’ve been with us from the beginning.”
That was the moment I knew I belonged. It wasn’t the compliments, though they were nice. It wasn’t even the fact that they were all easygoing about the whole thing. It was the simple fact that we weretight.From the first beat to the last, we had gelled. There had been no pauses, no moments of searching around for the right tempo. We were already in sync.
“We’ll do the second one now,” Josh said. “It’s a bit slower, but we’ll need to build it up. Ready?”
I nodded, feeling the pulse of excitement running through me. Josh counted us in, and the next song began.
It was called “Sinners and Saints”, and it was a slower, more atmospheric piece with some haunting melodies woven through the verses. The beat was softer, but just as intense in its own way. It wasn’t the kind of song where I could just bash away. It required finesse, a light touch with space to breathe.
We worked through the song a few times, building layers, letting the dynamics shift as we played. Max’s guitar weaved in and out of the rhythm, creating a sense of tension, while Kevin’s bass settled into a slow, pulsing groove. Josh’s voice drifted through the room like smoke, adding to the song’s ethereal quality.
I was careful with the drums, letting the hi-hat shimmer through the verses, my snare tight and controlled, while my bass drum tapped out a steady pulse underneath. We all took our time, finding those moments where the song opened up, creating space for the emotions to pour through. It wasn’t about speed; it was about subtlety.
By the time we finished, the air held a different kind of energy. This wasn’t the adrenaline or the raw power of the first song. This was something deeper, more reflective. A few moments of silence passed before Josh spoke up.
“That was solid,” he said. “Max, I can hear the build in your guitar, Kevin, the bass is spot on. Eric, the drums are exactly what we need—strong, but subtle where it counts.”
“Yeah,” Kevin said, cracking his knuckles. “You’ve got a good ear for dynamics.”
I grinned, trying to hide the rush I was feeling.
We ran through a couple more tracks, and by the time we finished, I felt the exhaustion creeping in along with a deep sense of satisfaction. We had found our groove together. Wewere already tighter than most bands I had played with after months of rehearsals.
Josh looked over at me as we packed up.
“You ready to take this to the stage?” he asked, his voice serious but excited.
I nodded.
“Hellyeah I am,” I said.
NINETEEN
Eric
