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    Aceinthehole
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Hidden Ones: The Spotlight - 8. A Double Edged Sword

Do you know those days when you see something you’ll never forget? Those days you’ll remember in five years and wish you could go back just for few minutes? Those days when you see something that completely blows your mind? Those days when you know things will never be the same again?

Seeing the huge crowd roaming towards the old barn, well I couldn’t help but know that feeling was coming. This wasn’t like the crowd from the past two weeks. No, this crowd was massive. The people were decked out in old 70’s 80’s or 90’s attire. Hell, I couldn’t help but catch the spirit! My dad let me borrow one of his favorite shirts from when he saw AC/DC live in the 90’s, while Blake gave me a pair of black skinny jeans. They weren’t comfortable, and I know I told Ryder I wouldn’t do it, but this was his big night. How could I disappoint him?

“This is insane,” my dad remarked looking around as a good sixty people packed the place, with more sure to come “It’s like double the amount from the start last week.”

“Yup.” One of the waitresses remarked, overhearing his words. “Retro night is our biggest night of the year. We usually hit capacity at two-hundred and fifty.”

“Two-hundred and fifty?!” I gasped, turning towards Blake and my Father. “Ryder can’t player in front of that many people, he’ll never, he’s too…”

“Teddy,” my dad interrupted. “He’s an entertainer. He’s been waiting for this moment his whole life. Trust me, he’s ready.”

I nervously nodded and turned to Blake for confirmation. “The kid knows what he’s doing.” Blake comforted me. “I’m more worried about us.”

“Jesus Harrison!” my uncle called out, leading four men a bit older than me over to us. “You could’ve warned me that this was going to be a legitimate concert.”

“I had no idea.” My dad shrugged. “Last week there were sixty people by the end of the night. But this, man, this is going to be insanity.”

“Well,” my uncle sighed, talking to the guys around him. “This is the type of crowd your potential singer brings. This is a big deal.”

One of the guys shrugged his shoulders and turned towards his band members. “We have a few hundred followers on social media. We’re not choosing this kid because he can get people to a rundown bar.”

“You see the age of these people?” I interjected, not afraid to speak my mind. “They’re not exactly tech-savy. You win over the old metal heads, and the young ones will follow.”

My uncle pointed to me, agreeing with the point I made. “And that is something you four have yet to do.”

“I’m just saying,” the guy continued, “let’s judge him off his voice and stage presence, not off a crappy bar.”

The rest of the band nodded their heads, but I could tell a couple of them couldn’t help but be impressed. As the night began and bands started playing, the old barn rocked harder than it had in the past two weeks. It didn’t matter how crappy the music was, people just genuinely seemed to enjoy the throwback songs.

As we approached the second to last set I saw a familiar big body work his way through the crowd, as though he was searching for someone.

“Yo!” The big bouncer that guards the black door called out, finally finding me.

“I’m not twenty-one,” I waived him off. “But I’ve come for the past two weeks and that hasn’t…”

“That’s not why I’m here.” He shouted over the music. “Just follow me.”

I rolled my eyes, but followed, figuring it was some BS security check. I mean what are they going to do? Kick me out for being seventeen? That’s some serious bullshit! I turn eighteen in a few months, and I haven’t even been drinking!

“He wants to talk to you.” The bouncer yelped, pushing me into the back room.

“Who?” I asked, but was met with a door slamming in my face.

“Teddy?” I heard a nervous familiar voice call out. “I, I can’t do this…it’s…look at those people.”

I turned to see a shaking Ryder standing near me. He was wearing a small white GunsNRoses t-shirt, tight black leather pants, dangling earrings, and hair poofed as much as he could to seem as 80’s as possible. He was coming to me for support? To me?!

I took a second to collect myself after staring at him and looked deeply into his eyes. “Then don’t.” I baited, knowing what his reaction would be.

“What do you mean, don’t ?” He panicked, only getting more frantic.

“On the other side of this door stands two-hundred and fifty people. I mean, that’s pretty scary.” I shrugged, not daring to break eye contact. “But, it also contains your future. You gather the strength to get up on that stage tonight, and I guarantee that your life will change forever. Your future band is out there, and they’re already amazed by the crowd. Once they see you, well, it’ll be a done deal.”

“But how do I know that?” He shook his head with doubt. “What if I…”

“What ifs are funny things.” I cut him off with a devious smile. “What if this place burned down? What if the world exploded? What if you get up there and fail? What if? What if? What if?” I stared harder into his eyes. “But they’re all what ifs? The only thing definite right now is that you have two choices- go up there and give it everything you have or sit here and have a pity party.” I shrugged once more and turned back towards the door. “Your choice. The Ryder Sullivan people at school talk about would probably have the pity party, but the Ryder Sullivan I know? Well, in a few minutes, he’ll be up on that stage causing a damn near riot.”

I nodded my head and walked out the door before he had the chance to respond. I knew he was the type of person who needed honesty. I knew being short and blunt with him was the best way to see a result, and I knew once he stepped on that stage all those doubts would vanish.

I made it back to the group just in time for the lights to fall. The darkness that filled the air was met with screaming roars from the crowd. The regulars knew what was coming, and well the visitors, they were about to get the surprise of their life.

Oh my God…” I heard Ryder come across the mic as the intro to Welcome to the Jungle began. Suddenly, a loud whine filled the air before the guitar hit its stride and the lights came on. There stood Ryder in his 80’s getup, swaying his hips, and grasping the microphone just like all the old singers used to. As he slowly got lost in the song, I couldn’t help but get lost in him. Sure, dressing like that is funny, but damn, did he look good. As the song went on, I couldn’t help but to be shocked as I saw him start to use it to his advantage. Ryder actually looked confident in his looks, as he seductively swayed and danced, making sure to wink at the women in the crowd. I guess he knew winking at the men wouldn’t exactly go over well!

“We gonna have to hose you down?” Blake teased me as he turned and saw the expression on my face.

“I’m good.” I had to force out, trying my best to snap out of the spell that was capturing me.

“Rockstars,” my dad remarked with a shake of his head. “Girls and gay guys can’t help but fall for them.”

“So now,” Ryder began as his first song ended. “I see a whole lot of people, but I don’t see a whole lot of movement. This next one will change that.” He spoke confidently. “Who here was alive in ‘82?” he asked as part of the crowd cheered. “Well ladies and gents, let’s take you back to that year, shall we?” He provoked in malicious smile “Forgive us if it’s rough. We started learning it Wednesday after my friend’s dad suggested it. This one’s Run to the Hill by the beast Iron Maiden.” He growled as a fast-paced beat began to play.

Before I knew it, the huge crowd mixed with people of all ages, began to jump along with the rhythm. It got to the point where it was so packed you had to jump or you risked getting pushed over! As the meat of the song approached, I couldn’t help but glance over at the band jumping around with my uncle. As the first verse passed, I could feel their anticipation for the much harder chorus. The second Ryder reached it with nothing but grit and power, I could tell he won them over. Just two songs in, and their minds were already blown. In a way, I guess all of ours were. Ryder was hitting notes no seventeen-year-old should be able to on a few days’ notice all while pouncing around the stage. The “Glam” look he was rocking no longer fit as he went full blown metal head. The best part was that the giant crowd couldn’t get enough of it. The barn rattled with excitement and life as Ryder showed off a new side of his voice, one not even the regulars knew he had.

“Number of the beast!” A random person requested as the song ended.

“No, no, no.” Ryder laughed, pacing with energy. “That’s the only Maiden song we had time for. It’s alright though, because we’re about to leave you Thunderstruck!” He cleverly announced transitioning into the next song.

Once more, the crowd roared on, fully at his command. I couldn’t help but smile at what he was achieving up on that small stage. Two-hundred and fifty people packed into this barn, all under his spell. The one person no one would say a word in the hallway was up there singing his lungs out and giving it everything he had. Then again, there was never any doubt in my mind, I knew he could do this. This was his moment, and I knew he was going to seize it. His future band only grew more fond of him as his set went on. He effortlessly soared through various genres of rock and metal, showing off what a unique voice he wielded. He could sing heavy metal then a soft rock ballad back to back without you even realizing it. In fact, his original song was so well written, the crowd barely even realized that he had wrote it! The world was slowly forming in the palm of his hand, and he didn’t dare hit the brakes.

“This last one,” he heavily breathed, “well actually…you guys remember that really popular kid in your high school?” Ryder asked, still catching his breath. “The one everyone loved for some reason…the golden child.” The crowd sarcastically cheered at his comments as my heart began to drop into my stomach. “Why the fuck do they love those golden children so much man?” He asked as the smile slowly faded from my face. This was it. This was his revenge. “I still don’t know the answer to that, but what I do know the golden child at my school.” He continued speaking as I braced for the worst. “He ain’t all that bad.” He laughed, finally able to speak without heavy pants. “He’s actually becoming a close friend.” Once more, the crowd sarcastically cheered, figuring he was kidding. “I’m serious!” He laughed again, enjoying the huge crowd. “This is the third Friday in a row he’s come just to support me. Fuck my school! Fuck popularity! Fuck the system!” He started ranting with fire. “But, Teddy Haner, you’re going to help me beat it.” He declared with a mischievous smile. “This last one’s for you. Your favorite live song. Let’s hope I can do it justice.” Loud rumbling blasted out of the speakers as a familiar intro began “…It has been written that those who have the youth have the future. So, come now children of the beast! Be strong and Shout at the Devil!” He screeched as the heavy guitar line hit. The crowd cried out with excitement as the guitar built up the excitement until finally, with one shout, Ryder kicked it all off.

I felt Blake jump on me as he started to sing along with Ryder. Before I knew it, Blake wasn’t the only one singing along. The packed barn began to scream out, keeping up with Ryder word for word. I mean, they’ve been singing along all night, but nothing like this. This was a new level. One I never expected from a retro night in an old barn. As the song began to wind down, Ryder raised a hand for the guitarists to stop as the bass and drum began to fill the air. “Shout, Shout, Shout!” He began chanting as the crowd picked it up. “Shout, shout, shout!” They continued after he had stopped. He threw a pair of horns high in the air as he and his band slowly made their way off stage.

Before I knew it, the chant turned into screams for an encore. They just couldn’t get enough of him. None of us could. Finally, a soft strum of an acoustic guitar came over the amps, freezing people in their tracks.

“So for those of you that haven’t heard, this might be my last show with Society.” Ryder announced to the crowd as he slowly made his way to the mic stand. “It’ll be hard leaving them, but in the end, it’s what’s best for me.” The crowd hit him with mixed emotions as they realized what they were hearing. “Nothing’s definite yet,” he continued while playing the same familiar song from by the fire. “But if it is…well let’s end this right.” He nodded, up alone on the small stage. “This song means a lot to me…and well, Mom and Dad, this one’s for you.” He forced the words out while fighting off emotion. “This is Wish You Were Here.

Ryder’s voice seemed to carry a pain like it never had before, and trust me, that’s saying something. He stood there alone; giving the crowd the last remaining bit of energy he had. I think in the back of his mind he knew he wouldn’t be back on that stage for a long time. He wanted to give them something to remember him by. As he reached the halfway point of the song, tears began to fall from his eyes, but he managed to push through it anyway. Even after all the pain he had sent through the crowd, there was still so much left inside of him.

Ryder did his best to recollect himself as the song ended and raised one hand high in the air to say goodbye before disappearing into the backroom. We all stood around quietly as a bittersweet feeling filled the air. The people around me looked like zombies as they slowly made their way out. There’s no doubt about it, Ryder’s performances are more than just music…they’re therapy.

“So,” my uncle began looking around at the emotionally drained band. “Is this your future singer?”

“Can we talk to him?” one of them spoke up, breaking the silence.

“I don’t see why not, I mean…”

“No!” I interrupted my uncle. “It’s just, do you really want your first impression of him to be this drained and quiet?”

“Good point.” The kid nodded back. “I mean, are we really going to find anyone else with that much range?”

“Can we sleep on it?” another member spoke up. “I just need to figure out if he’ll fit.”

“Sure.” My uncle nodded. “Just figure it out by tomorrow.”

They all nodded before saying their goodbyes. I know they’ll let him in, they just need to piece together what they just saw on stage. “They’re worried he’ll overpower them.” My uncle explained as they walked out of hearing range. “That kids going to be one hell of a front man. Whatever band he joins will be about him.”

“Are those kids okay with that?” Dad asked.

“Compared to him, they’re a garage band.” My uncle shrugged. “If they don’t take him, I’ll find him another band. Someone like him…” My uncle paused, trying to put his thoughts into words. “They’re the musicians that change genres.” I looked to Blake and nodded, knowing we needed to go check on Ryder. “Teddy,” my uncle called out like he was reading my mind. “Thank him for playing Wish You Were Here. It showed a side of him no other song does.”

I nodded, as Blake and I quickly made our way to the backroom. “Talk to him.” Blake pushed, as we saw the slim figure seemingly emotionless as he leaned against the wall, staring off into space.

“I spoke to him last time he got like this!” I argued with a shrug. “Can’t you do it for once!”

“I don’t have a crush on him.” Blake fought back. “It looks a lot better if it’s you doing it!”

“Yeah but,” I began to argue but before I could even finish the thought Blake quickly walked off to talk to the others.

I nervously walked up to Ryder as his eyes drifted to me. “I knew you could do it.” I softly smiled at him. “The band was seriously impressed. They said they’d let my uncle know tomorrow.” His expression didn’t seem to change as his blankly stared at me. “My uncle says thank you for playing Wish You Were Here.” Once more Ryder met me with silence. “You were really great up there.”

“Thanks.” His voice was flat as he kept his stale expression.

I took a deep breath as I caught another look at his 80’s style. “And I mean, that look…”

“Teddy, stop.” He interrupted. “I don’t need a yes man right now.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” I quickly dismissed “I’m just saying, that you really pull that look off.” He rolled his eyes and turned his head away. “I’m, you, uh, you look ho…”

“What part of stop don’t you freakin get?” He cut me off before I could finish the compliment. “I don’t want to hear it alright?”

“Sorry.” I exhaled, trying to reconnect our eyes. I nervously scratched the back of my head no knowing what to say.

“Sorry.” he shook his head. “I’m just tired.”

“I get it.” I smiled but his quiet face stayed the same. “You going to be okay tonight?”

“I’ll be fine.” He forced out “I think I just need time alone.”

“Okay.” I nodded, remembering the delicate dance I had to do around him. “Well, just, good job tonight. I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah.” He muttered, writing off my compliment as empty words.

As I regrouped with Dad and Blake, I tried my best to explain Ryder’s mood, but the only word I could think of was empty. It was like he was dead inside. Like the night hadn’t happened, like he had given everything he had to the crowd. That night it was hard to fall asleep. I thought about the pain he must be in. How many times has he said he’s fine when he’s really suffering inside? Does anyone know how much he’s suffering? Is his grandma helping him? Or is he all alone?

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

The next day I found myself eagerly waiting outside of his front door. His house wasn’t too hard to find. I mean it was the only sign of life in the big dead cemetery. Earlier that day, my uncle had called me to let me know the band wanted Ryder to record an E.P. with them. Then…well they’ll see how far they can go! At first, I was going to call Ryder to let him know, but this is 100% in person type of news!

“Hello?” An older woman answered the door, shooting me a peculiar look. “I’m sorry, but if you’d like to make burial arrangements you need to be over twenty-one.”

“Oh no, no!” I interrupted with a friendly laugh. “I’m here to see Ryder.”

Her look grew more cautious as she heard my words. “And how do you know him?”

“We’ve been in school together since like kindergarten.” I smiled. “I…”

“You know what!” She snapped as anger flashed in her eyes. “As if you guys don’t give this kid enough problems at school, so now you have to come to his home and start harassing…”

“It’s not like that!” I quickly let out. “My name is Teddy Haner. I…I have him over, and text him, and go to his concerts and I…”

“You’re Teddy?” She asked, taking in a long look at me. “Please, come in.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “You’ve heard of me?”

She slowly nodded, and led me into the small rundown kitchen. “Ryder’s spoken about you a few times. He’s um…well thank you, for being nice to him.” She shook her head, trying to piece everything together. “I’m sorry about the door. I’m just so worried that one day those kids will find a way to harass him at home too. It’s…”

“I understand.” I smiled, sparing her the words. “Can I see him?”

She took a deep breath and began to tap her fingers against the table. “Well,” she began as my heart began to fill with worry, “you can. But you have to understand something about him first.” She exhaled, not sure if this was a good or bad idea. “Sometimes, he gets in moods where he doesn’t talk to anyone. It’s not that he doesn’t want you there, he just doesn’t want to talk or…”

“Is it his depression?” I asked as my worry grew.

“He told you about that?” She gasped, even more confused than before. I nodded again. “It’s his depression.” She confirmed. “It might be hard for you to see him like that, but he’s okay I promise.” She began to explain. “Just talk to him like you normally would. Rarely he’ll respond, but odds are he’ll stay quiet and stare off into space. He’s listening though, trust me.”

“Okay.” I nodded, nervously getting up from my seat. The older woman led me through the small cramped house and to a worn down wooden door.

“Ryder?” She softly called out opening the door. “You have a visitor.” She pulled over a small chair and waived me in. His room is exactly what you would imagine. Band posters lined the walls as the white paint barely showed through. The floor was littered with crumpled up papers with what I can only assume were lyrics written on them. A few guitars sat in the corner with a small electric keyboard.

As his grandma moved out of the way, I finally got a look at the depressed teen. His eyes were red as though he had been crying, yet they weren’t puffy. If I thought his gaze was dead last night, well today he might as well be a corpse. It just seemed like no one was home. Like there was no light on inside.

“Okay.” She nodded as I took a seat. “If you boys need anything just let me know.”

“Thank you.” I smiled as she slowly shut the door behind her. “I’ve got really good news Ryder.” I started talking, trying my best to keep my voice low so not to startle him. “You’re in the band. They want to start recording an EP this week!” I smiled, but he refused to move his head or show any emotion. “They claim they have everything written, but I have a feeling you have ideas of your own.” I let out a deep sigh as I got a good look at how emotionally drained he was. He just laid there on his side facing the door. He stared at it as if he was waiting for someone. “So, you totally got my Dad all hyped up last night.” I began talking while leaning back in my chair to get more comfortable. “He was going on and on about how perfect that set list was.” I did my best to sound as supportive as possible, but it was hard when all I could see was an empty stare. “So when you’re a rockstar…” I tested him, seeing if he would snap or stay the same. “I want you to record a cover of Shout at the Devil for me, that way when you’re on tour and I miss you I can play it.” I confessed figuring it would at least attract some attention, but once more the hollow shell in front of me stayed quiet. “I really did appreciate it, I’ve never had someone do something like that for me. It was really sweet.” I forced a smile as my own spirits began to break. I needed to be strong for him. I needed to show him I was there for him through it all. “So, I was hanging with Blake yesterday before the concert, and he was being such a dick. I have no idea why you chose to let him in.” I began just sharing whatever nonsense came to my mind.

I sat there and spoke to him for thirty minutes. I finally stood up, having said all I could in this one-sided conversation. I slowly crouched so we would be eye-to-eye. “I’m gonna head out now, but if you want to talk you have my number.” I softly smiled. “You really did look hot last night. I know you got mad when I tried to say it backstage, but you did look great. I figured you needed to hear that.” I reached over and gently pushed the hair from the top of his face so it didn’t bother him. “I’ll see you later.”

As I shut the door behind me, I couldn’t help but let out a broken sigh. “He’ll be okay.” His grandmother called out to me, hearing my exhale from down the hall. “He just has days like that sometimes. Sure, it’s not the best for him,” she continued, as I turned the corner into the living room, “but I don’t know what else to do.”

“Does he see a doctor?” I gently asked, trying my best not to pry too much.

“Yup.” She nodded, looking into my eyes as if she was trying to solve a mystery. “Why are you suddenly so interested in my grandson?”

I couldn’t help but make a face as the question caught me off guard. “He reminds me of my family.” I shrugged, not knowing what to say. “I come from musicians, so, I don’t know, it’s nice.”

“Are you really going to lie to an elderly woman?” She pushed further, not buying a word of it.

I shook my head once more. “I don’t know.” I confessed to her. “He’s just like no one I’ve ever met before. It’s interesting, ya know?”

She took a deep breath as her eyes carefully examined me. “If you’re going to become a part of his life then you have to stay. Ryder’s not a kid you can walk in and out on. He’s…unique.” She carefully explained, not sure how to word her feelings. "He's a lot to handle." She shook her head. “So, if you can’t handle it please, just walk out now before he gets attached.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” I promised her with a forced smile. “Even if means talking to him for a whole day without a response. I…” Before I could continue, I heard a piano begin to play lightly from behind me.

“That’s him.” She softly smiled in relief. “As his episodes wind down, he begins to write music about how he feels.”

“How…” I began before biting back my words. “Why’s he have…how does…”

“I can’t tell you.” She softly let out a sigh, allowing the sound of her grandson’s playing to fill the room. “If you want to know why he’s depressed, he will need to tell you himself, which he won’t do until he trusts you. You need to earn his trust.”

“But how?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged her shoulders. “But I have a feeling today went a long way towards earning it.” She let out a short laugh as the music he was writing took a lighter turn. “All I can tell you is that he’s a very hard nut to crack. However, I’ve never heard him talk about someone before, but suddenly it’s ‘Teddy, Teddy, Teddy’…please stick with him.”

“I will.” I nodded my head trying my best to waive away her fears.

Ryder talked his grandma about me? He actually talks about me?! I’ll make sure he doesn’t regret it. He’s about to blast off and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure it happens.

 

2017, Ace
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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2 hours ago, mikedup said:

It makes me seriously wonder what is the cause of his depression?  And what happened to his parents? It seems that there are interesting times ahead. Can't wait for more. This is a great story.

 

Sure, things can exacerbate it or it can be a result of trauma but nothing has to actually cause depression in the medical sense.  It's a mental illness that runs in families like any other.  You can't trace it back to a specific reason.  That's tantamount to saying "oh, cheer up" or some such.

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I loved the way that Teddy got Ryder to go out on stage and perform like his life depended on it. I’m glad that they are able to have a conversation now without having to worry that they will say something to piss the other person off. The depression that Ryder is experiencing seems like it’s related to his parents some how, especially after singing the song Wish you were here, he dedicated it to his parents. I think something happened to his parents and he was around them when it happened. I’m glad that he has a couple of good friends that can help him with his depression and his music. It’s great that Teddy’s father and uncle are going out for Ryder to help him get a recording contract as well as possibly a tour with his new band. Great chapter and story.

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To observers not experiencing it. it appears that something causes the depression, but it's almost always the case that the depession is there and the ‘cause’ exasperates the condition. It's often the case of the straw that breaks the camel's back.

 

In my case, I have had what used to be called Dysthymia (it's now just persistant mild depression) for over 50 years. My parents weren't aware of the significance of my symptoms. I was moody or grumpy, but not thought to be dealing with mental illness. Culturally and financially, it was unlikely that they would have wanted to pay for therapy for a child at that time. But psychology was even less widely accepted during that period in general.

And @Aceinthehole, while your banner is very pretty, it seems to be forcing my browser to display the story in a much wider field than I prefer. Even though I block the images in Safari, the banner width still causes problems. I opened the page in Firefox to see what was causing the page to be so wide and discovered the banner. Could you please edit the image into a narrower format?

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