Good Enough (Earning Your Stripes)
A short side-story to my main story, centering on an important character from the very beginning. Once I finish the main story, I might come back to this one and expand on it even more. Let me know what you guys think
Good Enough--Side Story--Earning Your Stripes
Without a doubt, this was one of the most uncomfortable moment of Edward Seville's life. He kept his head down, seated in at the desk that the biology teacher, a young female otter, had indicated. She was preoccupying herself with writing on the whiteboard, humming to herself as more students filed into the classroom.
Stop looking at me, Edward thought desperately, his skin beneath his fur starting to burn with embarrassment as more and more students entered, their eyes settling on him without fail. They knew he didn't belong.
Being the new kid sucked! It had been the same in each of his classes so far. Anyone could've pointed out the silent tiger who, so far, had said little more than his name. Or "Yes, sir", "No, sir", "Yes, ma'am", "No, ma'am". Edward huffed--one last class to go through, then he can go home.
The bell rang within five more minutes, and the classroom was filled almost to capacity. Edward's eyes drifted across the room and he noticed that only one seat, the one to his immediate left, was vacant. Perhaps someone was sick or just an empty space, but he had no more time to dwell on the idea before the teacher, Mrs. Miller, spoke.
"Welcome back, everybody," she announced cheerfully. "I hope you all had a great weekend and came back well rested because we're starting a new chapter today... But first"--Don't you dare, Edward thought desperately--"we have a new student." She waved her paw towards him and, as one, the class turned to face the hefty tiger whom they had all noticed when they entered.
Edward sank low in his seat, face burning with embarrassment. Mrs. Miller waved at him, urging him to stand. He did so slowly, keeping his head tilted downward toward his desk which he had suddenly found incredibly easy to look at.
"Your name," Mrs. Miller urged.
"Ed... Ed Seville."
Edward hurriedly dropped back into his seat and Mrs. Miller seemed surprised by his clipped answer, given in a low, shaky voice. She cleared her throat noisily to retrieve the class's now-broken attention.
"Today, we're starting a chapter on"--she indicated the word she had written on the board--"arachnids."
Edward's blood ran cold. He looked up at the board for the first time, unable to suppress the shiver of fear that worked through him. Arachnids... Spiders... Ew... As he cringed, Mrs. Miller continued to speak, her voice carrying an authoritative tone as she did so.
"And we've got a very special guest today," she continued, a new exuberance coloring her voice. "An entomologist who has brought some live specimens for us to see." She walked over to the door and briefly stepped out into the hall, returning with clear crates in her arms. Behind her, also carrying similar crates, was a male fox. They walked up to the table at the front, setting the crates down. The fox stepped behind the table, looked at the crates briefly, then started to speak.
"Good afternoon, everyone," the fox said. "I'm Dr. Thayer and today, I've got some very rare creatures to show you all." He turned to Mrs. Miller. "Are there any in particular I should start with?"
Mrs. Miller shook her head. "You choose."
As Dr. Thayer started to pull the arachnids--first an iridescent scorpion--from the crates, he spoke in an excited voice that seemed far more youthful than the fox himself, explaining more and more about the arachnids. Edward watched fretfully, unable to think of anything other than how creepily the things moved. He swallowed thickly as Dr. Thayer began to walk among the rows of desks, showing the scorpion to those who wanted to see it closer. Edward was glad to see that he wasn't the only one recoiling away from the scorpion. Even still, he fought to keep himself as still as possible.
Then, back at the front, Dr. Thayer replaced the scorpion and moved to the second crate.
"I know that all of you have already seen a spider," he continued. "But I can't pass this up. It's one of my favorites." He turned back towards the class and Edward could scarcely believe his eyes. Somebody squealed in fear (and Edward was glad it wasn't him). In his outstretched paws, Dr. Thayer held a large, brownish spider. "This is the largest tarantula in the world. It's beautiful, isn't it?"
"No," somebody said in a low voice.
"That's detention, Miss Fletcher," Mrs. Miller called from the front of the room.
"Don't worry, spiders are not some evil creatures that'll eat you," Dr. Thayer said, allowing the tarantula to crawl up his arm and rest on his shoulder. "As a matter of fact, I know several people who keep spiders as pets. Let me ask you all something--who here is afraid of spiders?"
Very few hands went into the air and Edward was sure that, like many of the students, he was lying by keeping his hands down.
"Arachnophobia is common and it's nothing to be ashamed of," Dr. Thayer continued, pausing to keep the tarantula from walking away. "Spiders are wondrous creatures. Like this one." He transferred the tarantula delicately back to his paws. "If anyone's brave enough, they can come up and hold her."
One brave, though visibly shaking deer, walked up. He held the tarantula for only a few seconds before chortling. "Not so bad," he admitted.
Within seconds, others were walking up, each one taking the time to, very carefully, handle the tarantula. Edward watched from his seat, glad to be as far away from the spider as possible... Until Dr. Thayer began to walk through the desks again, towards the few students who hadn't moved... and he was walking towards Edward first.
Dr. Thayer set the tarantula on Edward's desk. Without prompting, the spider began to move closer to Edward who found his entire body freezing. He felt the front legs touch his paws and...
He jumped up and away from the desk, swallowing thickly. Dr. Thayer moved quickly to stop the startled spider from dashing away. Edward's breathing sounded impossibly loud in his own ears.
"It's okay," Dr. Thayer assured him, ignoring the snickers and giggles from the rest of the now-amused class. "Let's move on. We've got another specimens to look at."
"Hey, Eddie," said Mr. Seville as Edward got into the passenger seat of his father's truck. "How was day one?"
"Hell," Edward answered monotonously.
"Where'd that come from?" Mr. Seville asked worriedly as he pulled away from the school. He waited patiently, listening intently as his son spoke lowly in a depressing monologue of his day When Edward finished, Mr. Seville sighed heavily. "I feel like you're exaggerating. It can't have been that bad, Eddy."
"I was scared of a fucking spider! How isn't it bad?"
"Lots of people are scared of spiders," Mr. Seville explained. "Hell, I can't stand the look of the things."
"But you don't run away from them."
"It could be worse," Mr. Seville assured him calmly.
"How?"
Mr. Seville's cheery attitude fractured and when he next spoke, he used the tone he adopted when he wanted to project his authority. "First, fix your attitude. Don't use that tone with me. I'm still your father."
"Yes, sir."
"And secondly, it's just the first day," Mr. Seville continued. "It can always get better. The first day's always the worst. Believe me, I didn't have the best day in the world today either." He sighed. "I'm really sorry that I had to move us out here, but we need the money and you needed to get away from those cubs. They weren't a good influence on you."
"What makes you say that?"
"Look at you," Mr. Seville snorted indignantly. "All this black and stuff. You look like one of those... goth cubs. It's ugly."
"I like it!"
"Yeah, I know, I just don't know why." Mr. Seville's tone lightened. "My point is that today's behind you. The hardest part's over. Just wait till tomorrow. I promise it'll be better."
"And if it's not?"
"Then I'll buy you a brand new car when you turn sixteen."
"That'd make three you'd owe me," Edward chuckled. "Sure you want to make that bet?"
Mr. Seville shrugged. "I'll take my chances, Ed."
The next day passed relatively easily, and Edward found it far easier than the day before. He was still new to the school, and visibly out-of-place, but it was far less noticeable now. He was no longer reading a paper to find his way around, no longer being pushed by the crowds of students.
Then, he came to Mrs. Miller's classroom. He walked in quietly, returning her greeting, before walking over to his desk. He had nearly sat down before he jumped back, panicked. A spider was in his seat, facing towards him and... not moving... Cautiously, Edward swept the small, plastic toy away glaring at the skinny lion who had sat behind him.
"Fuck you," Edward snarled as he sat down. No sooner had he done so did he feel a strange prickling sensation on the back of his neck. He yipped in surprise before feeling anger wash through his body at the sound of the lion's laughter.
"Hey," a new, unfamiliar voice interjected, "what's so funny?"
"Hey, it's the emo-pup," the lion remarked. "Where were you yesterday? Cut too deeply last time?"
"Fuck you, Tony," the voice said and Edward looked up. A slightly thin, black-and-white furred husky with blue eyes was glaring at the lion with a scowl. Dressed in black with two piercings glinting in the classroom's light (one in his ear and the other in his eyebrow), Edward's first thought was that this husky, now seating himself in the seat which had been empty yesterday, was strangely handsome. Edward found himself watching as the husky pulled out a black-covered notebook from his backpack.
"No need to be like that," the lion, Tony, chortled. "Just wanted to make some conversation." He was chortling once more.
"What's got you laughing like a maniac? It's creepy," the husky remarked.
"Sorry," Tony said. "You missed yesterday when the new kid"--he tossed a wad of paper at the back of Edward's head--"got scared shitless. It was gold. And then, I put this"--he picked up the plastic, fake spider from the floor--"in his chair and he freaked out again."
"Wow, way to be an asshole, asshole," the husky scoffed, clearly not amused.
Tony's smile faltered. "Jeez, at least try to have fun. You're the most depressing puppy in the school, you know."
"As I said before, fuck you," the husky remarked. Then, he looked at Edward. "Who are you again?"
"Uh, me?"
The husky rolled his eyes, saying, "No, the invisible gnome that sleeps under the desk."
"I can live without the sarcasm," Edward huffed. "I'm Edward Seville."
"Nice to meet you," the husky said, extending his hand. "Damien Blackwell."
Suspicious, Edward shook Damien's hand, his eyes drifting towards the notebook, now open on Damien's desk. "Poetry?"
Damien's immediate confusion gave way to embarrassment as he hurriedly closed his notebook, chortling nervously. "Actually, it's not exactly poetry. It's... something else."
"Something else like--?" The bell cut off the end of Edward's question, leaving it hanging in the air awkwardly.
"I'll tell you later," Damien offered, turning to face the front as Mrs. Miller began her lecture.
"Lyrics?" Edward repeated in intrigue as he walked with Damien out of Mrs. Miller's classroom.
"Yeah, I've been working on writing some music," Damien explained shyly. "It's not exactly Grammy worthy, but it's fun." They reached Damien's locker. "Well, I figured that maybe I'd be good at it. I'm not very good with words though..." He chuckled shyly.
"Can I see it?" Edward asked.
Damien hesitated before answering. "Actually, I'd prefer not to show you... It's kind of--"
"Embarrassing?" Edward offered. Damien nodded. Edward hesitated for a moment before shrugging off his backpack, opening it to pull out a notebook of his own. He took another moment of contemplation before saying, "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
Damien looked over the notebook, then up at Edward with a raised eyebrow. "I guess... But don't you need to catch the bus or something?"
Edward chortled--he could tell that Damien was merely stalling. "Nope, I've got nothing but time. My dad's going to be late picking me up so..."
Damien hesitated, but after glancing at his notebook, he handed it over to Edward before hurriedly grabbing the notebook in Edward's. Slightly amused by Damien's embarrassed demeanor, Edward starting to flit through Damien's lyric book. From the first song (titled "Lockdown"), he noticed something impressive. There was no doubt that Damien's lyrics were insightful, the allusions creative and the word choices nearly perfect. Turning the page to a new song (titled "Third"), Edward found his intrigue growing.
"Are you--?" he started, but Damien interjected.
"Your handwriting's hard to read, Ed," Damien chortled, "but I like your work. It's got me thinking..."
"Thanks." Edward held out Damien's book, pointing to a phrase. "I take it you've got two brothers or sisters?"
"One brother, one sister," Damien answered without looking up. "So, you play guitar?"
"Yeah, since I was a little," Edward answered. "How'd you--?"
"You marked the tabs in your notebook and the tuning for each song," Damien noticed.
"Just like you marked the chords and melody in yours. Piano?"
"Yep."
They were quiet for a moment before Damien said, "I've got some time to kill. My brother's got practice so I can't leave yet. You?"
"My dad got called for a tow so he's running a bit late, but he'll be here shortly," Edward answered.
"Well, maybe Nate can give you a ride home," Damien suggested. "I'd like to keep reading your lyrics. They're pretty incredible."
Shyly, Edward said, "Nothing like yours, though. If you're interested..." He trailed off.
"Interested in what?"
"Maybe we could work together on some music," Edward explained. "I've been looking for a writing partner."
Damien grinned. "On one condition: you teach me guitar."
"Only if you teach me piano."
By the time Edward's father had arrived, he had been sitting and chatting with Damien for almost half an hour, seated beside Damien in the bleachers by the basketball court. They had paused for a second for Damien to introduce his elder brother, Nate, but the topic on both of their minds was merely music. Edward couldn't escape his excitement, the thrill of finding someone that he could identify with.
When Edward's phone rang (for the second time), Edward's father was parked in front of the school and, with Damien by his side, Edward walked out to meet him.
"Bout time, Ed," Mr. Seville griped. "Been waiting for nearly ten minutes."
"It's a big building," Edward countered.
"Not that big. Get in. Gotta get back to the--who's this?" Mr. Seville asked curiously, his eyes spotting Damien who stood slightly behind Edward.
"Oh, this my new friend, Damien," Edward explained. "He's a musician like me."
"Oh, you play guitar, pup?" Mr. Seville inquired.
"Piano."
"Ah, such a noble instrument with a rich history," Mr. Seville noted. "Gotta hand it to you, I've never been able to play." He chortled awkwardly. "Well, uh... Daniel?"
"Damien," Edward corrected.
"Well, Damien, it's nice to meet you, but I've got to get back to work. Get in, Ed."
"Yes, sir." Edward began to walk around the tow truck, but he stopped, pausing to turn back to Damien. He gave an awkward wave, saying, "Saturday?"
"Saturday," Damien agreed, returning the wave.
As they pulled away, Edward couldn't help but grin. His father glanced at him curiously, intrigued by Edward's bright attitude.
"What's going on Saturday?" he asked.
"I'm going over to Damien's place to teach him guitar," Edward explained, "and he's going to teach me piano."
"Why?"
"Because we both want to learn."
"I get that, but why now? You've never once had any interest in learning how to play piano," Mr. Seville noted. "What changed?"
"Not sure," Edward said. He shifted nervously in his seat, his gaze drifting towards the window. "Although, we talked about maybe writing some music together. He's actually a pretty good singer and I've seen some of the lyrics he wrote. He's better at it than me and I wouldn't mind learning a tip or two."
"Right..." Mr. Seville chuckled.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
Saturday rolled around slowly, but when it arrived, Edward was excited. Throughout the week, he and Damien had spent their lunchtimes and a bit of time after school talking. Though the starting subject was typically music, their topics had deviated and expanded to television, games, almost anything that they could think of.
When he arrived at Damien's house on Saturday afternoon with his guitar slung over his back, he couldn't help but feel slightly out of his element. The house, while by no means a manor or mansion, it was definitely bigger than the small, dingy apartment he and his father lived in. The lawn was pristine, and the small flower garden (being tended to by either Damien's mother or sister) was a whirlwind of colors. The garage was opened, revealing two shiny vehicles, a black van and a silver four-door car and, parked on the street, was the slightly less spectacular two-door that Edward recognized at Nate's.
And Nate himself was in the driveway, playing basketball with a few furs that Edward didn't know. Hesitating slightly, Edward approached.
"Nate?" he called.
Nate didn't immediately respond. He took a quick shot, which bounced off the backboard and swore loudly.
"Way to throw off my aim, Stripes," Nate huffed. "Are you here to play a game? Could use an extra player."
"Uh, no, I'm here to work on some music with--"
"DAMIEN!"_Nate shouted suddenly, turning towards the house. Edward flinched at the sudden volume. _"GET DOWN HERE!"
A window on the second floor slid open and Damien stuck his head out, looking slightly disheveled, as though he had been sleeping. He glared down at Nate, then across the busy driveway to Edward.
"The door's open!" Damien called. "I'll meet you downstairs!"
"Okay!" Edward yelled back.
Still feeling slightly awkward, Edward walked to the front door, hesitating before opening it. Already coming down the staircase in front of him was Damien, his sweatpants hanging loosely around his waist, revealing the waistband of his underwear. He was hurriedly putting on a shirt and had just barely got it on before he tripped over himself in his haste, falling down the last few steps. He picked himself up, his long hair an unkempt mess.
"Fuck, that hurt," Damien grumbled. "Glad you could make it."
"Are you okay?" Edward asked, helping him to his feet. "That looked painful."
"It was, but Nate hits hard too. The piano's in the living room," Damien said, pointing over towards the room on his right. Edward followed him in, seating himself on the couch while Damien lifted the lid over the piano's keys. Edward unpacked his acoustic guitar and began to tune.
"So, did you want me to teach you first or were you going to teach me?" Edward inquired.
Damien thought for a moment. "Well, for now, why don't we just play around a bit? See how well we play together. I came up with something last night that I really want to show you."
Damien began to play and Edward listened carefully. He thumbed a few strings before he found the key, the right chords, and joined in. The sound propagated outward, filling the room with a beautiful melody. Much to Edward's surprise, Damien's song lacked words, but he didn't truly care. Even without words, he--
The sound of someone clearing their throat alerted Edward to the presence of someone else in the room. His finger snagged on his strings for a moment, stunting the sound and causing Damien to stop.
"Dude, why'd you stop? That sounded--hey, Dad. Something wrong?"
Standing in the room, arms crossed and face unreadable, was a tall, handsome husky, his eyes skimming from Edward to Damien.
"Who are you?" he asked Edward in a deep, imposing tone.
Taken by surprise at the blunt way the question was asked, Edward was temporarily stunned. But he quickly regained himself, saying, "Ed Seville."
"Welcome to our home, Mr. Seville," Marcus Blackwell replied. "I'm Damien's father, Mr. Blackwell." Before Edward could reply, Mr. Blackwell turned to Damien. "I take it that your friend will be joining us as well."
"Yeah. Is that okay?"
"It's fine," Mr. Blackwell replied. He turned and walked out of the room, leaving an uneasy silence behind him.
"Join you for what?" Edward asked.
"It's Saturday and it's typically the day that Nate's got his gang over," Damien explained nervously. "He's always having somebody over on Saturday, be it his guy friends or his girlfriend. And then Amy's got her clique coming over too. Dad was going to order a few pizzas and try to force us all to make small talk and be friends." Damien chuckled uneasily.
"Does he know it'll be awkward?" Edward asked.
"Nope," Damien answered, "but we'll deal with that later. So, what'd you think?"
"I liked it, sounded great," Edward replied. "What's it called?"
Damien shrugged. "Doesn't have a name yet. Just came up with it last night. Doesn't even have any lyrics yet. Was thinking it might not need lyrics. What do you think?"
"It sounds awesome. Really, it does," Edward explained. Then, before he could stop himself, he said, "I was working on something myself."
"Can I hear it?"
Edward shrugged. "Hope you like it."
"So, did you have fun?" Mr. Seville asked as he drove away from the house, the crescent moon bright in the sky against a backdrop of stars.
Edward nodded eagerly. "Yeah, we actually played a lot of songs together. Never actually got around to doing any teaching, but it was really fun. His parents bought us pizza and they were really kind of cool. He invited me over next weekend so we could actually teach each other."
"Interesting," Mr. Seville said. "So what kind of music did you two work on?"
"Some of the stuff we wrote," Edward continued and Mr. Seville noticed a certain exuberance in his eyes that he hadn't seen for a while. "We actually bounced around a weird idea that... might actually be fun."
"Which is what?"
"Well..."
"Well...?"
"... We both like hard rock music... and Damien said he might know some other people who play some instruments..."
"Don't keep me in suspense. Spit it out, Ed."
"We were thinking about making a band together," Edward replied, shifting awkwardly. "Damien's got some space we could use to rehearse and we've both got a lot of music we could work on. Do you think it's a good idea?"
"Maybe. Who knows? I say go for it."
Edward nodded, still smiling widely.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, Ed, but you seem to be in a way better mood since you met this... Damien, was it?" Mr. Seville questioned. Edward nodded. "I'm wondering if you might... you know..."
"Know what?"
"You wouldn't happen to... uh...?"
"Now you're stalling, Dad," Edward chortled.
"Do you have a crush on Damien? It's alright if you do. I won't think any less of you," Mr. Seville said.
Edward scoffed. "No, Dad. I'm not gay."
"Okay, then maybe you're bisexual," Mr. Seville laughed. "But I'll be honest, I don't care either way. You're my little demon spawn."
"Demon spawn?"
"By the way you dress, anyone would think the same way. But I'm just going to tell you this now. If you do like Damien in that way, you'd better be careful. You don't know if he's gay or bi or anything. Don't risk your new friend because you're pitching a tent."
Edward's smile faltered, his eyes narrowing at his father's strangely serious tone. He couldn't remember the last time his father had taken this tone, and it left him curious. A series of questions played through Edward's mind, far too quickly for him to stop and ask.
"So, tell me about this... band you two are dreaming about. Got a name for it yet?"
Two months later
"Hey, Ed! Glad you made it," Damien called from a corner table.
Edward paused as he entered the coffee shop, slightly intrigued by where Damien had asked him to meet. The small shop was a strange place by Edward's own standards, and not a place he had ever envisioned Damien to spend his time at. The air was filled with the scent of coffee beans and strangely dark, lit mostly by dim lights and sunlight that filtered in through reddish curtains, casting a crimson glow on everything inside.
Intrigued, he walked over to the table, noting the two unknown foxes seated there as well, a male and a female. The male looked bored as he sketched in a sketchbook, a toothpick hanging out of the corner of his mouth and his hair tipped with orange. The female looked a bit more lively, writing something in her notebook and moving her longer, purple-tipped hair out of her face. She noticed first when Damien stood to give Edward a quick hug, but said nothing. Instead, she set her pen down before slipping the pencil from the male's paw.
"What?" the male grumbled drowsily.
_"Tigro,"_she replied.
_ "Tigro?"_ he echoed. She pointed and the male's eyes saw Edward, now seating himself beside the male fox. "Oh... Estas tio la tigro la hundo parolas?"
"What're they saying?" Edward asked as the foxes began to speak to each other in a language that he found himself unable to understand.
"Don't know. They're speaking Esperanto."
"What?"
"They're... Hold that thought," Damien said. He let out a quick whistle and the foxes silenced themselves. "Yeah, they do that sometimes. They can speak Esperanto and they do it to keep secrets from their parents. They're good enough at it that they could teach a class. Kris, Chris, this is the guitarist I told you about, Ed Seville. Ed, this is Krystal and Christopher Nixon."
"Nice to meet you guys," Edward remarked, extending his paw out.
The male, Chris, shook his paw. "Nice to meet you. I'm Chris."
Kris reached across the table. "I'm Kris. Nice to meet you, Ed."
"Doesn't that get confusing?" Edward mused, "if you're both called the same thing?"
"We're not," the foxes said in unison.
"He's Chris," Kris explained.
"And she's Kris," Chris added.
"Simple," they said in unison.
Edward was at a loss for words and looked to Damien for explanation, but Damien was too busy trying (and failing) to hide his laughter. Kris and Chris seemed highly amused by their antics as well, each one grinning cockily.
"Well, brushing that headache aside," Edward said dismissively, "what's going on? Why'd you tell me to meet you guys here?"
"The band," Damien explained.
"Uh, we're trying again?" Edward asked in confusion.
"Again?" Chris repeated.
"Again," Kris confirmed.
"Guys, just hear me out," Damien said. "Ed and I have been trying to get together a band, but it's been slow going. It's not as easy as we thought to find good musicians, but these guys... I've heard them play. He's an awesome drummer and she's an amazing bassist. They're looking for a band and we're looking for a band. So I figured... why not give it a try?"
"So... you guys want to be in a band?" Edward asked.
"We've been trying," Chris started.
"... and trying..." Kris continued.
"... and trying..."
"... but it's hard to find people we can really play with," Kris concluded.
"Not a lot of people meld with our style."
"Not that we have a specific style."
"But we play well."
"Really well."
"Kvankam mi ludas pli bone ol vi."
_ "Vi signifas mi ludas pli bone ol vi."_
_ "Ne, mi estas bona."_
_ _ They were going back and forth now in Esperanto and Damien cleared his throat noisily to get their attention.
"Point being, we're both looking for bands to play with and I figured we'd give it a try... If you're in, Ed. I'd really like to keep working with you."
"Yeah, I suppose I'm okay with it if they are."
"We are," Kris said.
"We are?" Chris repeated.
"We are," Kris confirmed.
"Are they going to do that the whole time?" Edward asked Damien as the foxes resumed speaking to each other in Esperanto.
"Probably," Damien said. "Maybe this is a twin thing..."
"So, tiger, what's the story between you and the pup?" Chris asked the next Saturday as they prepared for their first rehearsal. The four of them had gathered in the Nixon family's garage, the door opened to allow the sound to fill the space.
Edward, who had been helping Chris set up his kit, paused, staring up curiously at Chris with confused eyes. Talking to Chris without his sister (this is the first time he had actually seen them separated) in the conversation was more than awkward, made even stranger by the fact that Chris had instigated the conversation without her prompting. She and Damien had gone to the twins' bedroom to retrieve the keyboard that Damien would be borrowing for this rehearsal.
"What do you mean?"
"How long have you and Damien two been dating?" Chris asked bluntly.
Edward felt his face burn with embarrassment beneath his fur, and he hurriedly replied, "We're not! Where the fuck did that come from?"
"Sorry. With the way you stare at him, I just figured you two were together," Chris remarked, sounding amazingly disinterested in the whole topic. He sat behind his set and tested his snare. "After all," he continued, "you look like you like him."
"We're just friends. I don't even think he's gay."
"But you are?"
"No!"
"Then just say that and drop it," Chris suggested. "No need to be defensive." He tested his snare once more. "Needs to be tightened," he grumbled to himself.
"Why--?"
"Because it sounds like it needs to be tightened."
"No, why do you think I like him?" Edward finished. "I don't get it. And it's not just you who said something about it either."
"Because to anyone on the outside, it's obvious. The only reason the pup hasn't noticed is because he's even more immature than you," Chris answered monotonously. "And if you want to seem like you don't like him, learn how to fake it."
Edward was about to respond, but Damien and Kris reentered, carrying the keyboard, cords, and stand. They began to set up beside Edward's amplifier. Edward choked on his next few words, unable to get them out, but the sudden sound of Chris's kick drum pulled Edward out of his own mind.
"What?" Edward asked.
"Testing out the kick pedal," Chris replied, "and stopping you from staring. Remember, fake it."
"Okay, guys," Damien called. "How do you guys want to start this off? Just want to jam or do you guys have anything you want to show off?"
"Nothing in particular from me," Kris stated.
"Or me," Chris admitted.
"..."
"Ed?" Damien prompted.
Edward looked away from Damien's gaze, instead fixing his attention onto the painted image in the middle of Chris's kick drum. "It's just a weird thing I was working on. Nothing particularly good, but it's something." He strummed a chord, allowing the sound to decay.
"Well?" Damien prompted.
"Play the song," Kris said.
"Let's hear it," Chris added.
"So, how was your first rehearsal?" asked Nate as they pulled away from the Nixon household.
"Went pretty nicely," Damien answered. "We started on some new material, expanded on some old stuff, and looks like we might actually have a good group this time."
"What do you think, Stripes?" Nate asked, looking up in the rear-view mirror at Edward, who shrugged.
"I had fun and we actually did manage to have a pretty cool jam session," Edward answered. "I'm actually looking forward to the next rehearsal." He chortled. "Although, those foxes are kind of weird, don't you think, Damien?"
"Weird, but cool," Damien replied. "You got to admit though, they can play."
"So, did you guys come up with a name for your little clique?" Nate questioned.
"Not yet," Damien answered. "No point coming up with a name unless we're all committed to this. I am."
"Me too," Edward answered, smiling.
"You look like you've had a good day," Mr. Seville noted when Edward closed the front door behind him. Edward chuckled, setting his guitar and amp down beside the front door before joining his father on the couch. He set his feet on the coffee table. "How'd it go?"
"Great," Edward answered simply. "The foxes are a bit bizarre, but they're pretty awesome at what they do."
"Excellent," Mr. Seville said. "So, what happens now? You guys going to make an album? Win a Grammy?"
"I don't know," Edward admitted, laughing. "We haven't even come up with a name yet." His laughter faded rapidly and he looked away. "Hey, Dad, can I ask you a question?"
"You're going to anyway."
"I think I might actually have a crush on..."
"Damien?"
"Yeah... It's weird, but I'm not sure what to do or think," Edward continued. "I mean, I know a bit about him and we've been hanging out a lot since we started working on music together... But... Should I say anything?"
"To Damien?"
Edward nodded. "I mean, it's odd. Hell, Chris said something about it earlier today at practice. I didn't think I was falling for him, but--"
"You're fifteen, going on sixteen," Mr. Seville interjected dismissively. "Honestly, you don't know shit about love, not like I'm one to talk. After all, you don't see me married." He chortled derisively. But, he quickly calmed. "Truthfully, I worry about you, Ed. I know you're good at heart, but you need to think with your head. I don't want you getting hurt because you say something to him. You don't know as much as you think you do about the pup. If he's not gay, at best, he'll break your heart, even if he lets you down easy. At worst, he'll be homophobic and you'd be wrecking your friendship with him."
Edward looked downward, crestfallen. He swallowed a lump of sadness that formed in his throat and stood. "I'd better put my stuff back in my room."
"Hey, Ed, look at me," Mr. Seville insisted, grabbing his son's wrist. Edward looked down, but found himself unable to meet his father's gaze. "I want you to be happy, I do. But I also want you to be smart. I don't care if you're gay, bi or whatever, but just protect yourself."
"I'm thinking something ominous," Chris remarked.
It had been two months since their first rehearsal and, after eight successful practices, the subject of the band's name had been raised once more. They found themselves seated in the same coffee shop where they had met and Damien had already jotted down three names that they had already brought up: Breakdown, Dead on Arrival, and D.E.C.K.
"Ominous in what way?" Kris wondered.
"Something creepy," Chris continued, excited, "to send chills down people's spine."
"We're not exactly a creepy group," Edward remarked with a small laugh. "Punk, yeah. Dark, probably. Perhaps something a little more subtle like..."
"Like...?" Damien prodded.
Edward shrugged. "Well, Dad said that we could name ourselves something like 'For the Fire' or 'Young Decay'."
"Those sound interesting," Kris said, "but not exactly... right." She glared darkly at the strange, dark-green rock embedded in her silvery ring. She sighed. "None of these names seem to fit. I thought it'd be easy to come up with one."
"Well, we'll need one," Damien sighed. He glared down at the names he'd written.
"Maybe we should just let a name come naturally," Kris suggested.
"It'll come when it's time," Chris added.
"Unless it doesn't," Kris answered.
"In which case we'll just be called 'Untitled'," Chris joked.
"But we'll need a name regardless if it is 'Untitled'," Damien stated. "I mean, we can name our songs, but we can't name ourselves?" He huffed, then looked up at Kris with a confused expression. Once more, she was distracted. "You've been staring at that ring since you got here. What's so special about it?"
"Hmm? Oh, it was a gift from that really cute bear at school. Bobby Dudley," Kris said.
"She's falling for him," Chris added.
"Am not."
"Are too."
"No."
"Yes."
"Malsa?ulo."
_ "Stultulo."_
_ _ "It's a nice ring," Edward interjected hurriedly, hoping to stop any further back-and-forth. He had quickly learned that, if left to their own devices, the twins could continue for hours. "Emerald?"
"No, it's actually... Uh... I forgot what it was called."
"It's called malachite," Chris reminded her.
Damien yawned as the twins started conversing between themselves in Esperanto. looked down at the paper on which he had scrawled down the suggested names and some others that had popped into his head. Without thinking, he had begun to write down 'Malachite', not really listening to the renewed conversation between the twins.
"I like that one," Edward said suddenly, looking over Damien's shoulder. He pointed. "Malachite." The foxes had silenced themselves and Damien looked up at Edward with curiosity. Suddenly the center of attention, Edward felt his face burn with a slight embarrassment. "Well, it's an interesting name. It's a weird word, but it's nice... And it looks kind of interesting too," he added, pointing towards Kris's ring.
"Malachite..." Damien said, rolling the name on his tongue as he considered it. "I like it, I think..."
"Got a weird ring to it," Chris said. "Sounds like 'malice'." He gave a strange hum-like noise before saying, "I think I like it too."
"Then I guess I'm outvoted," Kris said, her attention having drifted to her ring again.
"Kris..." Damien sighed.
"I didn't say I didn't like it," she added. "Let's go with it. Who knows? Maybe it'll be nice little hook to hang our future Grammys on."
One week later...
"GUYS! GUYS! GUYS!"
Edward's voice rang through the cafeteria as he dashed inside. He had weaved eagerly between the crowd, past people and towards the table where his friends were seated. Then, suddenly, he found himself skidding, sliding across the floor and desperate to regain his balance until he fell face first onto the tabletop.
"Ow," he mumbled, standing back up. His face burned with humiliation as he looked upward. Chris was chortling, Kris was rolling her eyes and Damien sank down lower in his chair to try to avoid being seen by the students in the cafeteria who had turned towards the commotion, a decent amount of them laughing.
"Are you okay?" Damien asked, helping him back to his feet. "Not hurt?"
"Only his pride," Chris managed to say.
"What's got you so excited that you're screaming like a maniac?" Kris asked.
Edward, who had been rubbing his forehead, found his earlier exuberance rapidly. He looked down at the slightly crumpled flyer in his paw, and flattened it on the tabletop. "THIS! Take a look!" They all looked closer at the poster, the words "BATTLE OF THE BANDS" in bold font at the top.
"Where'd you get this poster?" Kris asked.
"He ripped it off a wall," Chris answered.
"That's not the point," Edward insisted. "Remember, we wanted to find a way to showcase our music? This is it! We enter the battle of the bands!"
"What're the odds of us actually winning?" Damien asked nervously.
"That's really not the point I'm trying to make," Edward huffed. "Let's just give it a try. The worst case scenario is that we don't win. But at least people will hear us. Who knows what else could happen? Maybe some big shot producer will hear us and want to sign us to a label."
"That's setting the bar high," Chris stated.
"More like setting the bar in space," Kris added.
"Well, I just thought it'd be a good idea," Edward remarked, crestfallen. He picked up the flyer and had just started to fold it when Damien spoke.
"Let's give it a try," Damien suggested. Edward paused. "We've got enough songs to put on a show and there's no point in rehearsing if there's nothing to rehearse for..."
"...So we're doing it?" Edward questioned hopefully, his smile widening with his rekindled excitement.
"Kris, Chris, what do you guys think?" Damien asked hurriedly, avoiding the Edward's excited, youthful gaze.
"Why not?" Chris hummed.
"It could be fun," Kris added. "But... are we ready for a performance?"
"We won't know until we try," Edward answered happily. "I'll go sign us up!"
"Hey, hey, slow it down, Ed," Damien said. "She's got a point. If we do this, we do it right. Which means we'll probably need to double our rehearsals, refine our techniques and..." He trailed off nervously.
"And?" Edward prompted.
Damien shifted nervously. "I was hoping that, instead of the keyboard, I could move onto the guitar," he grumbled. "I mean, I've been practicing as much as I can and I think I can manage."
"You sure?" Kris asked. "You've never played guitar during our rehearsals before."
"He'll just have to start now," Chris said. "It's an easy fix."
"So, we're going for it?" Edward insisted hopefully.
There was a moment of silence while they exchanged nervous looks. Then, Damien nodded. "I think we're going for it."
One month later...
"So, we're really doing this?" Damien asked nervously, pacing awkwardly backstage. He could hear the band currently performing, a heavy metal group called Biter.
"It's too late to back out now," Chris said. "Don't punk out on us." He jovially punched Damien's arm.
Edward chortled nervously, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. They were on next. There was no turning back now... He fidgeted nervously with the strings on his guitar, absently stealing jealous glances at Damien's newer model. However, he couldn't stop the flow of pride that worked through him as he had watched Damien's growth. He remembered when he had started teaching Damien how to play, when he could barely strum let alone carry a tune... but now...
"And now," the MC was saying. Edward looked up from his guitar in amazement. The members of Biter were currently walking backstage, their vocalist shooting a sneering smirk at Damien as he passed over the microphone.
"Good luck, puppy," he snarled and Damien flinched. For a brief moment, a wave of anger flowed through Edward's veins and he felt himself rise. "You'll need it." Edward wasn't aware that he had started growling until Chris him in his side.
"Defend your boyfriend later," Chris hissed. "We're on!"
"He's not my... Forget it," Edward replied as he followed his friends onto the stage. He took his place and looked over at Damien. He nodded calmly and Damien replaced the microphone in its stand, took a deep breath, and started to sing.
"Memories burn inside my mind
And I dream of you...
I dream of you...
Peaceful days that were lost to time
I long for you...
I plead for you"
Edward struck his first power chord, reveling in the sound. Kris and Chris were playing near flawlessly and Damien had swung his guitar around, ready to play but Edward noticed something he had never seen in Damien before. Hesitation... He had missed his cue!
"Even as I fall from my throne
You refuse to leave alone"
Kris and Chris had noticed it too and they were watching him closely, just as confused. Edward could see Damien's pick, in just the right position to strum, but he was hesitating. Why was he hesitating?
"I've never been good enough for you
I've never been strong enough for you
I've never been wise enough for you...
And yet you still love me...
You're all I want and need..."
Then Damien strummed, a powerful chord that caught Edward so off-guard that he nearly lost track of the song. But he quickly found his place once more. The mood had changed palpably and Edward was grinning widely, though his own laughter was masked by the music. Somehow, he had never before appreciated just how much fun this was, playing music with his friends.
Or how adorable...
He quickly shook the thought out of his head before he even finished it. Now was not the time for that... Now, he had to focus. After all, they were on stage now. No room for mistakes.
"THANK YOU!" Damien called to the cheering crowd, breathless as the last few notes, the last few chords, petered out in the resonant auditorium. "THANK YOU SO MUCH! THIS WAS AMAZING!"
Feeling bold, Edward had started to play again, soon joined by Kris and Chris. Damien looked at them in confusion before understanding dawned on his face.
"YOU GUYS WANT ONE MORE?!" he called.
Edward never thought he'd get the sound of cheering out of his mind, the feeling of elation, the excitement, the rush of being on stage.
"That was fucking epic!" Damien declared as they walked off stage, each one laughing, unable to contain their energy, the adrenaline.
"I freaking rocked out with everything I had," Chris agreed.
Even Kris's normally calm demeanor had been broken by the thrill and she was bouncing up and down, unable to restrain herself. "Are we going to get disqualified for doing an unauthorized encore?"
"Who cares?" Edward countered. "We should've done another one! THAT WAS AWESOME!!" He let out a proud, roar-like shout that silenced itself almost immediately when he felt Damien's arms pull him into an embrace.
"Thanks, Ed," he said. "We wouldn't have made it without you."
Soon, Chris and Kris had joined them in a group hug and for a brief moment, Edward felt a surprising feeling of peace come over him.
"Thanks for believing in me, guys," he heard Damien said. "There's no way I could've done it without you..."
"We're always going to be here for each other," Edward assured him. "Like one really weird family."
"The fuck you calling weird, kitten?" Chris snorted playfully.
"You!" Edward answered as they pulled away.
They laughed again, a warming sound that filled their ears. Then, Chris nudged Edward. "Yo, can I talk to you for just a minute?"
"Yeah, what's up?"
"In private? Just for a quick second."
Edward's eyes narrowed, his euphoria starting to fade as he walked away from Damien and Kris, curious. When Chris was sure that they were out of earshot of the others, he turned towards Edward, his eyes narrowed and his face pulled into a scowl.
"Okay, this getting ridiculous, Ed. You need to say something to him," Chris insisted.
"What're you talking about?" Edward murmured.
"I saw you on stage," Chris continued, "and you're not fooling me. You nearly fucked up because of this little crush of yours." Chris sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead. "Look, I'm not going to say anything, but you ought to. You're torturing yourself over this."
"Look, I'm fine," Edward assured him. "Besides, I'm not perfect. Even if I make a mistake, it's not the end of the world."
"If you're sure, but I don't know, Ed," Chris said. "I don't think this is healthy."
"I just don't want to risk it," Edward admitted. "Maybe I'll say something later, but for right now... I just want him to be my friend."
"Wait too long and you'll never get your chance."
"I know," Edward answered. "But--"
"Hey, guys!" Damien called. "They're announcing the winner!"
Glad to have a reason to end the conversation, Edward hurried away.
"Eh, second-place isn't so bad," Edward stated as they walked away with a silver trophy. "At least those Biter assholes didn't win."
"Still, not bad for our first show," Damien answered. "Room for improvement." They entered the parking lot and moved over towards the car that they had borrowed from the twins' parents. As they set their instruments very delicately in the trunk, Edward found his own mind too distracted to listen to the conversation.
They got into the car, Chris behind the wheel with Edward and Damien in the backseat. Absently, Edward heard the conversation without really paying attention. His mind was preoccupied with what Chris had said, what his father's advice had been. And his own thoughts swirling around in a jumbled mess in his head... but it all pointed to one conclusion. Even as he turned to look at Damien, he felt his heart steadily speed up.
He had fallen, hard, for the scrawny husky seated beside him...
Should I...? Should I say something?
The thought ran through his mind rapidly and the answer escaped him. He opened his mouth to speak and, at that moment, Damien turned and smiled at him. The words he wanted to say snagged in his throat and he faked a cough.
"You alright, Ed?" Damien asked jovially, his grin wide and his eyes sparkling.
"Y-yeah," Edward answered. "Just still coming down from that rush, you know?"
"Yeah," Damien remarked. "I say we celebrate in traditional Malachite fashion."
"Coffee shop?" Kris asked.
"Coffee shop," Chris confirmed.
"Let's go!" Damien insisted.
Edward chuckled, despite his own apprehension.
I can't say it... I don't want to lose him... I can't...
Two years later
"I can't believe you did that, jackass," Edward scoffed, placing his guitar gingerly into his backseat. He buckled it into the safety belt as he always did, keeping it secured in its case. "Our very last show and you want to do Never Go Back? Kind of a sad song, you know."
"Well, yeah," Kris stated, "but it was our last show. And we never even got a chance to record it."
"Shame," Chris added lazily.
"We'll probably never get a chance to play it again," Damien sighed. "Face it, guys, we're going to college in different states! What're we supposed to do? Pretend we're still a band when we can't even rehearse?"
"We can still do some video chats or something!" Edward insisted, far more forcefully than he had intended. He could feel small tears in his eye. For the first time, the reality seemed to hit him, the simple fact. This might be the last time he saw his friends again...
"Ed--" Kris started.
"I just don't want summer to be over," Edward huffed, aggravation working through him. "I mean, you guys are my best friends. I don't want to lose you all and... I don't want to lose our band. Malachite's the best thing that's ever happened to us..." He studied their expressions, but they seemed unreadable. Had he misunderstood? "Well, to me, anyway..."
"I feel the same way," Damien confessed, looking away. "I'll miss this."
"Why does it have to end?" Edward snapped, kicking at his tire.
"Because we're growing up," Kris answered and Edward could hear her growing annoyance. "Life's not fair; we all know that. But we have to grow up and move on or else... we'll just... never go anywhere. Besides, we'll all stay in touch, won't we?"
"I will," Chris volunteered.
"Me too," Damien added.
"Me three," Edward said and he felt himself start to cry. He turned away from his friends, but he could feel their eyes on him, watching him fall to pieces.
"One last group hug?" Kris offered.
"One last group hug," Damien agreed.
When they moved closer, Edward saw something strange. Damien was crying as well. He couldn't help but wonder how Damien was taking this. Would he be okay over this? They pulled back and Edward wiped his eyes with his sleeve. No point in crying now...
"So, I guess this is... goodbye," Kris murmured.
"No, it's more like, see you later," Chris corrected. "Next summer, definitely, right?"
"Right, we'll be there," Damien replied.
"Yep," Edward said.
They smiled at each other once more before the twins got into their mother's van and drove away. Edward watched them leave, unable to bring himself to look over at Damien. His heart was pounding in his chest, his mind racing. Now or never... He should say something... But what to say? Should he even do anything at all? Was it worth it? What if--?
"I don't like this," Edward finally said. "It's not fair."
"I don't like it either, Eddy," Damien admitted. "But--"
Edward's body was suddenly on autopilot and he turned. He pulled Damien into a tight embrace, one that he had longed to do for so long. He heard Damien's breath hitch and... he was being hugged back! Damien was hugging him back! Edward's heart raced with excitement and he wanted more. He started to tilted his head downward and--
Damien pulled away and their eyes locked, both of them consumed by uncertainty. I shouldn't have done that, Edward thought. That was a mistake. Edward cleared his throat before speaking.
"Sorry," he said. "I just figured..."
"What?" Damien prompted.
Edward shrugged. "Never mind."
"Ed--"
"You've got my number," Edward continued rapidly. "Call me often, you hear? I want to hear from you as much as I can." He turned away before Damien could say anything else, but he then felt something grab his arm. He tried his best to suppress the gasp that caught in his throat as he looked back at Damien.
"You can call me too, you know," Damien said before Edward got into the car. "It's a two-way street. I'll always be glad to hear from you."
Edward smiled, stopping before he got into his car. "I... I've been wondering... Can I...?" He shook his head. "Never mind."
"Ed, you keep doing that. Just say it already," Damien stated irritably.
"Are we just friends?" Edward questioned.
Damien hesitated before responding and Edward wondered about the strange look in his eye. "Well, I figured we were a bit more..."
"Like what?" Edward urged, unable to contain his own emotions. Please, say something. Please...
"Best friends," Damien finally said. "You're like a... brother to me..."
Edward's excitement broke as he registered the words, unable to think of the nervous tone that Damien was using. He shouldn't have said anything...
"Yeah, I don't know what I was expecting," Edward said in a strangled, weak voice. "Well, I'll catch you later." He closed the door before Damien could say anything more. He waved at Damien one last time, gave him one last smile (forced though it may have been) and began to drive away. He was crying again...
I'm sorry, Damien, he thought. I shouldn't have done that. I'm so sorry...