As I find my way back to the dormitory, I receive a text from Teller. Apparently, Sard’s fine, and he’s fed along to me that Sard has ‘something big’ he wants to tell us-he wants us to meet him at the Strauss building later today.
While I change out of my suit I let what Sigmund said grate at my mind, dwelling on it, trying to find any sort of special meaning whatsoever in it. I was drawing up blanks as I changed into my normal outfit before I left for the Strauss building.
I later arrive, opting to simply invite myself into the backstage area to find Teller, Nork, and Felch sitting in a semicircle with an open chair next to Teller. Across from them was another open chair. I take a seat next to Teller, looking over to the others. “So, how did things go after I was gone?”
“Sard was trying to put on some tough guy act, but the medics said he was bitching out the entire time. Legend has it that he was even flopping like a damn fish!”
“Nork, why’d you have to say it like that?”
“I’m not wrong, am I?”
Teller shakes his head slowly, chuckling. “Anyway, speaking of life-threatening, the doctor actually said that Sard managed to avoid getting stabbed somewhere that really mattered.”
“Two close calls in a row, I’m starting to think that someone up high really likes Sard.”
“Well, good for him, because if that weren’t the case he’d be finding ways to get his dumb ass killed in record speed.” The rest of the gang gets a good laugh from this line.
“You sure these would be the first times he ended up trying to play hero? Because he seems to get into a LOT of shit on his own.”
“Actually, we’ve had little incidents before, but never with fucking biker gangs, that part’s quite new to us. That’s the kind of escalation you’d only see in, what was it… Professional wrestling. You two are into that, aren’t you?”
Teller and Nork are caught laughing before Nork straightens up. “Honestly, that would be a pretty interesting storyline to run with, but I’m not sure where they’d even take it.”
“I don’t know, I’d consider having someone who’s abstinent of alcohol stumble across an incident for the irony of it all.” Teller mused, looking to Nork.
“I know I’m supposed to be the corny one here, but that’s actually a stupid plan.”
Felch laughs, and I had to chuckle myself.
“Anyway...” I check my watch. “When’s Sard supposed to be here? Is he a little late?”
Felch checks his watch in turn. “Yeah, he’s a little late… as usual.” Almost as if on cue, Sard makes his presence known in the backstage. “And speak of the devil.”
Sard gives off a dramatic bow to the group before taking a seat in the chair across from us. “As you can see, I’m doing just fine despite being stabbed, thank you for asking, but I have to say getting stabbed wasn’t so bad. In fact, it led to some
interesting
developments.”
“Dude, don’t tell me you became Spider-Man from getting stabbed by a radioactive biker.” Teller snickered, followed by some positive reactions from the other band members.
Sard was stopped dead in his tracks, laughing for a good while before regaining his composure. “Have any of you seen the news lately?” He’s met with silence, as we all collectively shake our heads. “Well… the people at the hospital started asking questions, so I told them enough of the truth to get them invested and to make us look good, but of course I left out a few things so we don’t end up in handcuffs… or court.”
“Oh, Jesus, Sard, why’d you have to tell them about it?” Felch grumbled. Meanwhile, Teller and Nork share an ecstatic look, and Sard chuckles at Felch’s chagrin.
“And let me guess, something more came of it?” I had to assume there was something he hadn’t told us just yet.
“Yeah, something more came of it, alright.” Sard smiles. “Guys… I got an offer from some talent agency. They say they want me to join one of their bands, become a real artist, maybe release an actual album and see what comes of it.” Sard’s face morphs into a frown. “The rest of you… weren’t invited.”
The rest of Dirty Diamond makes their displeasure at the statement audible, though not precisely verbal, and I cross my arms, trying to put together the causality of the statement. “What you’re telling us is that you got a talent offer because of your little PR stunt portraying you as such a chivalrous individual?”
“To be fair, we already had some social media presence to help fuel that kind of meteoric spike in popularity,” Teller interjected.
“As ridiculous as it sounds, yeah, I did my job and worked my charm a little too well and ended up getting some talent agency to try and scoop me up.” Sard smirks. “Guess the world finally recognizes my talent and charm.”
“Have you considered that maybe they’re only interested in you as part of one of their own PR stunts?”
“Yeah, I admit, the thought did cross my mind, but a guy can dream, can’t he?”
Nork clears his throat. “So, are you gonna join them? Leave us all behind?”
Sard runs a hand through his hair, sighing. It’s clear he didn’t want to leave us behind, but I had a hunch he absolutely would given the chance. “Yeah, that’s about right. Guess they just didn’t see the same energy in you.”
“Now hold on a second… Wick’s actually super popular on our networking account, almost eclipsing even you, Sard. You expect us to believe that she didn’t get invited as well?” I had to admit, Teller had a point.
“Not to mention, Wick’s vocal range is
insane
. Only a complete moron would turn her down out of hand… or a craven corporation, perhaps.” Felch might’ve been overselling me, but not by much.
“Well, about that… Apparently someone sent an anonymous tip saying that we had started the fight, specifically calling Wick a ‘remorseless sociopath’, of all things.” I frowned.
Maybe they’re not wrong
. “I’m not sure why they take that shit seriously, but I think they did and that’s why you didn’t get invited along.”
“Oh well. Guess it’s time to file those divorce papers, eh?” The entire room laughs as Nork manages to cut through the tense, somber atmosphere in a singular joke.
“Well, before that happens, I was wondering if you’d go out with me on a farewell gig.”
“You tell us all about how you managed to go legit on your own out of pure dumb luck and how you’re going to just ditch the rest of the band to pursue your own ambitions, and then you expect us to play with you one last time?” Felch rises from his chair with a hint of flair.
Sard’s left scrambling for words by Felch’s verbal assault. “Well, but, I-”
“I’m in, you son of a bitch!”
All of Dirty Diamond-myself included-laughed at that moment, at how Felch had perfectly embodied the sentiment of the entire group in such an elegant yet dramatic manner.
“Ahh, shit, I’m gonna miss you guys.”