Desperate Chances
Page 83

 A. Meredith Walters

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“So I know you guys are here to see a kickass show,” Cole began, followed by more cheers. “But we’ve got something that we need to share with you all first.”
Cole looked back at the rest of us before continuing. “A bunch of years ago we started Generation Rejects. We were four fuck-ups who wanted to play some music. We sucked.”
There was a general sense of disagreement at that statement. I appreciated the crowd’s loyalty. But what Cole said was right. We had definitely sucked.
“We did, it’s okay guys. We’re pretty fucking awesome now, right?” The roar was deafening.
“Alright, settle down, I have a story to tell.” The crowd quieted down and Cole continued. “So when we became fucking awesome, we signed with a label. We went on the road and tried to take over the world. But sometimes things don’t turn out the way we want them to.”
The room became totally quiet. Everyone was waiting to hear what Cole would say next. Looking out at the faces of the audience, they knew whatever he was going to say, wasn’t going to be good.
“Barton’s Bar and Grill will always be special to us. Moore took a chance on a bunch of punk ass bitches that thought they could play. He let us put on a show. And it went from there. So thanks for that, Moore. You rock, buddy!” Moore put his thumbs up from behind the bar, where he was helping Dina tend to customers.
“So, we started here.” Cole took a deep breath. “And we’re ending here. Tonight.” The noise from the crowd was instantaneous. Murmurs became shouts. What was he talking about? What was going on?
“We love the music and we love the band, but it’s time to do other things. Life happens. Our man Piper is gonna be a dad.” Cue the sighs from the female contingent.
“Our man Garrett is moving to Boston with his lady.” Whoops followed.
“And good ol’ Mitchie boy finally got the girl. Way to go man!”
Gracie flushed red and hid her face behind her hands. I grinned so hard my cheeks hurt.
“As for me, well I’m still planning to go out there and fuck the stage. So be ready for a whole new level of Cole Brandt!” The screams started up again The man really did know how to work a crowd.
“But before that, I’ve been wanting to do something.” Garrett and I shared a look. What was he doing?
I watched as Cole reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box.
What the actual fuck?
“Guys, seriously shut the fuck up. I’ve got something important to say.” Our front man took a deep breath and for the first time since I’d known him he looked nervous. Like he was going to throw up all over the stage. But then he pulled himself together and flashed his cocky grin.
“I’ve been thinking it’s time to make my girl an honest woman. What do y’all think?” Cole looked down at Vivian and held out his hand. She looked shell shocked as she let him lift her up onto the stage.
Then in front of the crowd, Cole Brandt dropped to one knee. He plucked the diamond ring from the box and held it out for Vivian.
“What do you say? Vivian Baily, will you mar—” he asked her.
Vivian didn’t even wait for the words. She snatched the ring and shoved it on her finger, holding it up for everyone to see.
“Is that a yes?” Cole laughed.
“That’s a hell yes !” Vivian shrieked, launching herself at him.
Everyone started clapping, and Garrett immediately began to play the opening chords to our song Donkey Punch. Interesting song selection but given Cole and Vivian, it was pretty appropriate.
“Guys, we have a show to play,” I said into my mic, earning some laughter from the audience.
The lovebirds pulled apart and Vivian climbed off the stage. Cole touched his mouth for a minute, his eyes glazed over but happier than I had ever seen him before.
Cole Brandt was gettin’ hitched. Stranger things had happened.
I walked over to our front man and patted him on the back. “Congrats, man,” I said.
“Thanks,” he replied with a smirk. “She’s gonna be a fucking tigress tonight. I can’t wait! ”
I shook my head and went back to my spot, adding rhythm to Garrett’s melody.
“Let’s get this party started!” Cole shouted and the audience roared.
And for the last time we were four guys, playing our music.
Tomorrow we’d be something else.
But for now, we were Generation Rejects.
Six Months Later
The sun was hot on my shoulders as I walked down the makeshift aisle, a small bouquet of flowers in my hand. The air was perfumed with roses and hyacinths. I could hear the rippling of the stream fifty meters away.
And the squeal of guitar strings filled the air, followed by an ear-splitting scream of Jordan’s favorite heavy metal band.
“Oh my god, seriously? This is a wedding, not a concert!” Vivian grumped once she, Riley, and I were all stood in a line.
Riley shrugged. “It wouldn’t be a Rejects wedding without melt your face off rock and roll.”
I snorted. “You should do this at your wedding, Viv.” My friend gave me a death glare and repositioned her hands so that she providing her engagement ring with ample exposure. It glinted in the sun, nearly blinding me.
“Mine will be a very tasteful affair. White lace and linens. Three course meal, champagne fountain. The whole nine yards,” Vivian sniffed, looking across the aisle and smiling at her fiancé who stood with Garrett and Mitch behind Jordan.