“Having fun?”
I sighed and put the sticks down across my lap.
“I just miss it is all. There’s nothing like it. It was the first thing I learned to play.”
“Mine was the guitar,” he said, letting go of the door and sauntering towards me. His pajama pants rested low on his hips and he was shirtless. I admired the lines of his muscles under the thick tangle of tattoos. “My dad taught me what he could and then hired someone to help me with the rest.”
I stood up and hugged him. He wrapped his warm arms around me and rocked back and forth.
“You were great today. Under pressure. You didn’t let him rock your confidence,” I commented. He laughed.
“What I said was true. You’re perfect in the place you’re at in the band. Your face deserves to be the one everyone notices first. Your talent deserves to be center stage. We’re just back up.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Don’t say that.”
He laughed again and kissed my forehead.
“I didn’t just blow his words off though. I’ve been thinking about what he said and trying to figure out what to do with it. I think I have a solution to both you and your dad’s comments.”
“What was my comment?” I asked, pulling apart to look up at him.
“That you miss playing the drums.” He let me go and started towards the middle of the room. “I have an idea.”
I crossed my arms and smile. His excited face was too adorable.
“Alright, shoot.”
He lit up like a young boy who just got told he can open a gift on Christmas Eve before going to bed. He clapped his hands and went to the microphone.
“You’ll be lead vocals, as we’ve been doing.” He turned to make sure I was keeping up. I nodded. He then jogged lightly back to me and sat down on the seat. “And I’ll continue as drummer. Except, when we get to a certain song, we pause and switch.”
“What? Like for the rest of the set?”
He shook his head.
“No, probably just one song. But we don’t tell anyone. We don’t put out a demo or make it an official track when we do a full album. Nothing. It’s just for live shows. I’ve seen other bands do it, people love it.”
I considered his offer. It actually sounded fun. And it could work. We’d have to talk with the others, but I think they’d like it too.
“What song would we do? An original or cover?”
He tilted his head back and forth, thinking about it.
“I’d say cover until we get a big enough following that people know and can sing back our own songs. Once they are familiar enough with our stuff it would be better to switch to that. What do you say? Want to try it?”
I did. And we did.
The very next day we introduced the rest of the band to his idea, and they were all on board. We spent all day running through how we’d do it, trying different songs, placement of the song itself in our set list, and then timing how quickly we could get back into the groove afterwards. By the time we called it quits, we had it down. I got to play my drums so much today. My hands ached gloriously. It was a familiar pain that I relished as I rested that evening after dinner.
“I’d like to bring your dad back over and let him watch us do the switch. I feel like he could help with my energy level. I don’t know if it will do well with a real audience how it is.”
“What do you mean? You were great.”
“Maybe I should take off my shirt,” he pondered. I raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe I should take off mine,” I rebutted. He shot me an unamused look.
