As I’m about to leave the dormitory building, I see Lenny standing by the door.
“Sigmund would like a word with you.”
“I’m busy tonight. We can talk again tomorrow.”
“And if
I
wanted to have a word with you?”
“I get that you’re concerned, Lenny, but I genuinely have something I need to attend to tonight, and I can’t afford any more delays.”
“Fine.” Lenny let out a subtly dejected sigh as I walked out the door, making for the Keel-Bridge.
Once I’m there, I’m pleased to find that there are no chrome-plated choppers in the parking lot, and looking inside I don’t see Ashley, Jeremy, or anyone wearing a leather jacket. I then meet with the rest of the band. For once, Sard’s actually early instead of late.
“Heeey, glad you could make it. I take it you’re actually gonna perform with us instead of moping at the bar all night?”
“Yeah, I’ll actually perform tonight.” I tilt my head. “But really, Sard, it’s so
strange
seeing you here this early instead of slinking in at the last second possible. I would’ve thought you’d find a way to end up being fashionably late to someone’s
funeral
.”
“Well… funerals are pretty boring. Our last gig’s a different story. Anyway, I wanna tick hauling a speaker in off my bucket list, care to help me?”
“Sure.” Sard did indeed help just as much as the rest of the crew in hauling in our equipment, and for once he actually hauled in a speaker with me. We practically gloss over our sound check, used at this point to how the crowd goes quiet with a subtle tension. The curtain opens, and we’re greeted by a surprising amount of fans. In the back, someone holds up a sign that says ‘Sard, please stay’.
“So… Tonight, I have an announcement to make. It’s one that weighs heavily on my heart, but it’s ultimately necessary. No, it’s nothing to do with me getting knifed recently, I’m doing fine on that front, but… this is gonna be my last gig with Dirty Diamond.” I can practically
feel
the somber disappointment coming off the crowd. “I just got a deal for going legit, so I’m gonna have to leave the boys behind in the process. I’ll probably miss the gang, even Wick bullying me every show.” A small laugh emanates from within the crowd. “Anyway, the band that I think I’m gonna be joining is called Iron Spiders. I’ll post more about it on my personal account later. Before I begin, I’d like to thank the Keel-Bridge for making all this possible, and more importantly I’d like to thank every one of Dirty Diamond’s fans for pushing us up so far! It’s meant the world to me, I mean it! But… enough soapboxing, ARE YOU READY TO ROCK?”
The crowd lets out an audible cheer, perhaps louder than any other time. The performance goes well, pressing on for a third hour as usual with a moshpit forming in the center due to our influence before we take our bows, letting the curtain close one last time.
Sard-as usual-takes off to collect our cut of the cover charge, leaving us to pack up ourselves.
“It’s almost like Sard is a different person, man. It’s weird. I thought we’d get to make fun of him some more, but this is almost… tragic.” Teller slowly shakes his head.
“Are you just saying that because he actually bothered to go up on speaker duty this time?” Nork tilted his head towards Teller.
“I guess it’s just that hard to imagine him changing at all. At this rate, he might actually stop to talk with us after the show instead of chasing girls.”
“Maybe Sard’s more than just an oddly charismatic asshole.” I let out a half-smile.
Sard soon returns with a bucket full of money. He counts it out, and it comes to 800 yet again. “So that’s 70 for each of you, 120 for me, and 400 for the collective fund. Speaking of the collective fund, I’ll leave the whole thing with you guys.”
“Hah, you better! I expect you’ll be making plenty more now that you’ve gone legit.” Felch pockets his cut of the money.
“And here I thought you really had changed...” Teller shakes his head slowly.
“Honestly, I don’t get why you’re all so melodramatic about this. It’s not like I’m going to be dead in three months due to cancer or some shit.”
“I mean, this could be the last we see of you for a while, at least if this whole deal you just got ends up working out.”
“Yeah, you’re right, it just feels a little ridiculous.”
“Not used to feeling appreciated, are you?” I raise an eyebrow before we all walk into the bar. Miraculously enough, Sard decides to sit with the rest of the gang instead of running off and chasing women. I sweep my eyes around the bar and find nobody I recognize, though before long we’re almost swarmed by fans. Though the boys try to kick up some conversation, Sard ends up getting asked for autographs while I mull over what Sigmund said to me, and the way he put me in the line of fire, and perhaps most importantly, what I had done because of it. I down a fourth of my rum in one go, finally managing to tear myself away from my personal problems for the moment.
One thing I’d been noticing was how a conversation would start and then Sard would get pulled aside for one, two, maybe three signatures in a row before they got back to talking.
I touch Teller’s shoulder. “The fans giving you trouble, I take it?”
“Yeah. What can I say-suffering from success.”
“At least Sard’s having the time of his life, right?”
“To be honest...” Teller looks to Sard, as he signs another autograph. “Yeah, it seems like Sard’s really happy he finally has recognition. I just kinda wish we had our goodbye time to… actually talk.”
“Yeah, well, Sard had a point when he said that you shouldn’t take it so seriously. It’s not like he’s dying or anything.”
Teller exhales. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
The night goes on, and before we know it, it’s roughly midnight. The bar was due to close soon. “Alright, I’m gonna scram now-we can talk more about our plans later.”
“See ya around, Wick.”
I see myself out of the bar, and back to the dormitory.