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Excuse the mistakes

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My breath escaped my lips in short pants, and I grabbed the lukewarm bottle of water in my shaking hands. I shook my sweaty bangs out of my face and unscrewed the top, and I took a large swig of water. The liquid soothed my rough throat, and I grinned broadly.

"How are you all doing tonight?" I asked, my fingers wrapping around the black microphone on its stand. The crowded bar cheered loudly in response, and I chuckled. "Well, we've had a kickass time, but this is going to have to be our last song of the night."

The crowd booed in disappointment, and I shrugged and winked at them. "We are Hardly Human, and you have been a stellar audience!" Then, I turned around and swung my guitar from my back to the front of my body. I nodded at Ethan and RJ, the drummer and bassist respectively, of my band. Ethan grinned evilly, and a second later, he raised his drumsticks over his head.

"Two, three, four!"

My fingers danced across the frets of my electric guitar as I strummed quickly to produce the beginning of "Love Bites", by Halestorm. As music pulsed through me, I turned to face the crowd, and I leaned into the microphone. The lyrics burst through my lips without hesitation, and I smiled confidently as I fed off the audience.

I reached the bridge and swung my guitar onto my back. My fingers wrapped around the microphone, and I focused on one of the blinding lights as I spit the words. With the fast pace of the song, I rushed to grab my guitar for the final chorus. When I started to sing again, I messed up the chords slightly. My cheeks flushed a bright red, and my heart rose to my throat, but I was determined to finish the song strong. I closed my eyes and melted into the music, bringing myself to a strong finish.

The crowd erupted as the song ended, and I let out a sigh of relief. There was a pleasant burning sensation in my throat that always came from a night like this, and sweat slipped down the sides of my face. I gave the crowd a mock salute, and then Ethan, RJ, and I started to walk off of the stage. I grabbed my acoustic from its stand at the edge of the stage and followed my band mates into the backroom reserved for performers.

"They were great," RJ said regarding the audience, and he grabbed the case for his bass off of the floor and started to pack it away.

"Yeah," Ethan replied as he collapsed onto the worn sofa, "Especially those two blonde girls who were sitting in the back. Do you think they're still here?"

"Why?" I asked, and I sat down on the edge of the sofa and shut my Stratocaster in its case. "Are you in the mood to get rejected tonight?" Ethan scowled, and RJ laughed and gave me a knuckle touch.

Just as I placed my acoustic guitar, the one I'd had since I found it in the attic six years ago, in its case, there was a knock at the door. RJ called out to enter, and a second later, Rufus Staal poked his head through the door.

Rufus Staal was the owner of The Garage, the bar where we performed and practiced, as well as the place I worked. We were lucky that Rufus let us play here so often because it was frequented by people who wanted to listen to good music. Because of him, Hardly Human had gotten a small following.

By following, I mean about five people who showed up to all our shows. Impressive, right?

"Hey Boss," I said, sliding my acoustic guitar case onto the floor next to the sofa carefully. "Were we terribly atrocious?"

"Absolutely horrendous," Rufus replied, but the smirk on his face told me that he was kidding, as always. Still, I thought back to my mess up during our last song, and I got an annoyingly disappointed feeling in my gut. I could do better, and I knew it.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," RJ said, waving once at Rufus.

"Anytime," Rufus replied, and he winked at me before leaving and closing the door behind him. I chuckled to myself and stood up, and I grabbed my electric guitar's case.

"I'm going to go put this away," I said, and Ethan nodded dismissively as he and RJ started to get in a heated debate about the blondes that they'd mentioned before. I rolled my eyes and walked out of the backroom.

I made my way through the crowded building, smiling at people who told me I did a great job, and I stopped at the bar and poked the bartender, Melanie, on her tattooed shoulder. "Nice job out there, Linds," she said, and I grinned. Mel was like the chill older sister I'd never had. On more than one occasion, I found myself raiding her closet.

"Thanks," I replied, and I gestured to my guitar case. "Can I have the keys, please?"

"I guess so," Mel said, and she handed me a mass of keys on a lanyard, "Just because your manners are so nice."

"Only when I need something," I replied, and I stuck my tongue out at her. She returned the favor with a middle finger, and I laughed before pushing away from the bar. I wove through the crowd once again until I came to the door on the right side of the stage. I unlocked it and slipped inside, and I shut the door behind me.

"Not too shabby, Linds," I whispered to myself, and I let out a deep breath. No matter how many times I performed in front of a crowd and practiced, I always had this awful feeling before I got on stage that I was going to mess up terribly.

Self-doubt is a bitch.

I placed my guitar case on one of the higher shelves, which I could only reach when I was on my tip toes. Because I was at The Garage so often, Rufus would let me keep my stuff here. I had no problem leaving my Stratocaster, probably because it took forever to save up the money to buy it and I had a sneaking suspicion my mom wanted to smash it to pieces. However, my acoustic came home with me. I cherished it too much not to have it with me as much as possible.

I flicked off the light and exited the room, locking the door behind me, and I headed back to the bar to give Mel the keys. She was busy pouring beers, so I just stuck them in her back pocket, which apparently merited a side comment about being a pervert.

As I started to walk to the backroom, I thought I saw a familiar face out of the corner of my eye. Sure enough, when I turned my head, I caught sight of the one person I didn't want to see tonight, or ever.

Leaning against one of the columns in the bar was Carter, the other half of most toxic relationship I had ever been in. He was also my first and only love. We'd been together for two years, and he made me feel like garbage one second, and a queen the next. We'd broken up last year, and he was supposed to be at boarding school.

All hope that Carter had seen me was lost when our eyes connected. He opened his mouth, maybe to call out my name, but I turned away quickly and practically sprinted back to the backroom where Ethan and RJ were waiting.

"Lindsay! Just the girl I was looking for," Ethan cried as I walked into the room, "If you were a blonde stranger, would you hook up with me?"

"No," I said instinctively, leaning against the door, and I looked from an irritated Ethan over at RJ. "Can you give me a ride home?"

"Don't I always?" RJ replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Great," I said hurriedly, "So can we go now?"

"What's the hurry?" RJ asked, and he frowned as he noticed how on edge I was compared to the easy going girl who'd been present just a few minutes ago. "Linds, you look like you've seen a ghost."

"Carter's here," I stated quietly, and both Ethan and RJ sat straight up in their seats.

"You mean Carter Sheppard?" Ethan asked, taking a step towards me. I nodded, and he exchanged a look with RJ. They both knew how bad things had gotten with Carter, and saying they wanted to kill him would be an understatement. However, saying that they wanted to rip off Carter's limbs and beat him with them would probably be more accurate.

"I'm gonna kill that fucker," RJ growled, and Ethan let out a sound of agreement. They both started towards the door, but I was one step ahead of them. I pressed my back into the door and spread my arms out to block them from getting past me.

"You won't kill anyone," I said, a pleading tone to my voice. "RJ, just take me home."

"That asshole used you and broke your heart," RJ replied through gritted teeth, "I'll be damned if I let him just walk out of here—"

"RJ," I said levelly, interrupting what would have been a long tangent, "Just take me home. I don't want anything to ruin the amazing performance we just had."

RJ opened his mouth to protest, but he stopped himself and set his mouth in a hard line. He remained silent for a moment, and then he said, "Fine, Lindsay. I'll just take you home, but the next time he shows up, I'm throwing him in the dumpster."

"Okay," I replied, and I moved away from the door to grab my things. I slung my patchwork purse over my shoulder and grabbed my guitar case, and I looked up at RJ, who had his bass case in his hand. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," RJ grumbled, obviously unhappy about me asking him to refrain from slaughtering my ex.

"Let's head out then," I said, glancing from RJ to Ethan. I reached for the door handle and pulled it open only to come face to face with Carter, who had his fist raised like he was about to knock on the door. "C-Carter," I stuttered, taking a step back instinctively.

"Hey Lindsay," he said, his voice just as smooth as I remembered. However, instead of making my heart flutter like it used to, it was like nails on a chalkboard. "I'm glad I caught you."

Before I could respond, RJ and Ethan shouldered their way in front of me so that they were standing protectively between Carter and me. "One more step and I will drop you like a brick," RJ stated hostilely.

"Guys, seriously?" Carter asked, putting his hands out in front of him like he was showing the police that he wasn't armed, "I just want to talk to Lindsay."

"And I want to have sex with Emma Stone," Ethan replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "Both of those things aren't going to happen, so I suggest you get out of our way."

Carter looked from Ethan to RJ and then back at me, his mouth set in an annoyed scowl. "Are you really going to let them fight your battles, Lindsay?" he demanded, and I shrugged.

"It's not like I have a choice, Carter," I replied, hating the sound of his name in my voice, "Some men just know how to treat a girl." All four of us knew that this was a jab at Carter, and his face turned pink with a mixture of embarrassment and anger.

"I'll see you at school on Monday, Lindsay," Carter said suddenly, "Boarding school wasn't really working out." Then, after waiting just a moment to see my jaw drop, Carter took a step back and walked away.

"Well shit," I muttered, sweeping my choppy bangs out of my eyes. "That's just fantastic."

"What do you want us to do?" Ethan asked, turning to look at me, "We can kill him before he has a chance to re-enroll."

"I like the enthusiasm, but no," I replied, chuckling sadly, "RJ, just take me home."

RJ looked at Ethan before nodding at me, and he wrapped his arm over my shoulders as we walked out of the backroom and towards the parking lot behind The Garage. "If only we hadn't graduated last year," RJ said wistfully, "Then Ethan and I would be the secret service to your Obama."

I managed a smile and a giggle, but inside I was having a small panic attack. Carter was coming back to school, and knowing him, that meant we would be having words at some point. I could only hope that when that time came, I could say what I felt without having my old feelings brought back up again.

I pushed out the back door that led to the parking lot, and I kicked at the gravel on the ground with the toe of my boot. "Lindsay." I looked up to see both RJ and Ethan staring at me, concern all over their features. "Are you going to be okay?" Ethan asked genuinely.

"Of course I will," I replied without conviction, "If Carter tries to talk to me, I'll just tell him to fuck off."

"That's my girl," Ethan said with a wink, and he gave me a quick bear hug. "You can also kick him in the balls." I laughed as I pulled out of his arms, and I walked over to the red pickup truck where RJ was waiting.

I ducked into the passenger seat of RJ's truck and adjusted my guitar case until it was awkwardly sitting between my legs and resting on the floor. I waved goodbye to Ethan as he walked to his car, and then I looked over at RJ while he turned the key in the ignition. He pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main street, and then RJ headed in the direction of my home.

Most of the drive was silent, save for the quiet sound of Jimi Hendrix drifting through RJ's speakers. However, as we pulled onto my street, RJ turned off his stereo and glanced at me. "Are you going to be okay with Carter back at school?"

"Ethan already asked me that," I said, avoiding the question. Out of the two boys, RJ was better at understanding my underlying emotions. Sometimes, it royally pissed me off, but I knew he noticed because he cared. "Besides," I continued as RJ pulled up to the curb of my house, "It doesn't matter because I have to deal with it even if I'm not okay."

"I know, Linds, but—"

"Let's just not talk about it," I said, giving RJ a look that he knew meant to shut up about whatever we were talking about. "I don't want to think about it. I have 24 hours before I have to deal with Carter, and I want to just revel in that."

"Okay," RJ replied with a frown, and I opened the passenger door.

"Don't worry about me, RJ," I said, giving him a small smile, "I can fend for myself. Besides, Ethan was right; I can always just kick him in the balls."

"If you do, I want pictures," RJ responded, and he cracked a smile. I climbed out of his car and adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder. "You were on fire tonight, Lindsay," RJ said as I reached for the door of his car.

"Thanks," I replied, "You were, too." RJ waved goodbye, and I shut the door of the truck. I turned towards my house and crossed my front lawn to the door. I glanced over my shoulder as I fished for my keys, and I raised my hand in farewell as RJ peeled away from the curb and drove off.

"Mom?" I called as I shut the front door behind me, "Mom, are you awake?" There was no response, and I sighed as I kicked off my shoes. She was probably out with her awful, instigating friends.

You see, my mom was actually pretty young. She only had Connor when she was seventeen, and she had me when she was 21. My mom could still get into clubs without waiting in line, which just fueled her alcoholism. Her so called friends were constantly taking her out, and I found myself coming home to an empty house pretty often.

Suddenly, every muscle in my body felt like lead, and I dragged myself up the stairs. I pushed into my bedroom and placed my guitar case on my desk. I dropped my purse on the ground in the middle of my bedroom. I collapsed onto my bed and thought about changing into some pajamas and taking off my makeup. However, before I could do anything, I was asleep. 

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