Page 7 of A Daddy for Christmas 3: Matty

Lord knew Dad tried with me, and I could have turned out so much worse. I got into all kinds of seedy trouble as a teen. Until I met Finn. He taught me to play guitar and channel my emotions into music. The rest was fucking history. Not that Finn was adamn savior. He was an asshole ninety-nine percent of the time. But all that joking and riling other people up was a cover for all the emotional shit he couldn’t channel into the music. He had it in spades—had to. His fucking mom. She was way worse than my dad. But both of us had to break away from our families as fast as possible, and music helped us do it without ending up in jail or dead.

Now it was time to move to the next level. To show the universe that we were more than a bunch of rough, horny fuckers.

I held the back door open at Vegas Motor City on Thursday afternoon while the guys hauled equipment in. Our practice went well, and we’d agreed on a solid lineup. I was confident, but still nervous. A few more gigs like this would help keep us all afloat until the big Miami payday. And we had no clue how long it would take for Donny to come back with another round of contracts. Plus, I wanted a lawyer of my own to look at it, if I could afford it.

Mainly, I wanted to keep the excitement going for the guys, so I pitched in to get it all set up on stage and run through a sound check. I met with the club manager, who gave me an envelope of cash to share with the guys. He’d even broken the three hundred bucks into smaller bills, so we could go ahead and split it up. I hated it when fuckers paid us in big bills. So impractical. “Thanks, man.” I shook his hand and went to talk with the guys.

The place was already dark, and night hadn’t even fallen yet. It was typical, looking pretty trashy, but would attract a funcrowd. A few pool tables on the far side would keep people busy if they weren’t interested in who was playing on the stage. And it wasn’t much of a stage. One step up and barely big enough for drums and a few guitars. We played around with where to set up, knowing we wouldn’t be able to move a lot. Tank would stand to the right, closer to Gonzo on drums, which were tucked back as far as we could get them and still have room for his big-ass body to play. Finn would knock out his riffs from the left side, and I’d bounce around in the middle, right up front. I had a bit more room in front of Tank, but not fucking much. Well, the stage at Black Ace was about the same, so we were used to it. But compared to the giant mother fucking beast we were on in Chicago, it was a postage stamp.

Finn bumped into me, knocking me out of my musings. “It’ll be fine. But damn. Chicago left a better taste in my mouth.”

“Feel you, bro.” We bumped knuckles and finished up. We still had a few hours until show time, so we headed to the bar.

We started with beer and just chatting with each other, comparing our current gig to what we might be playing this time next year. When it was almost time to go on, Finn ordered us a round of vodka shots. We held them up, and I made the toast. “To all these gigs we do now that will get us to where we’re going. Next year.”

The guys repeated, “Next year!” and touched glasses before shooting down the clear alcohol.

“Ah! That hit the spot.” Finn grasped my shoulders hard. “Ready to fucking rock these people?”

The room was already starting to fill up, which was a great sign for a Thursday night. “Fuck yeah. Let’s go.”

We took the stage. Having changed our lineup a bit, we didn’t start with the chaos we normally did. Instead, I grabbed the mic. “This one’s for me. Cuz I’m just that kind of mother fucker.” My voice was deep and rough when we jumped intoThe Frontman.

I was surprised that some of the crowd were singing along and wondered if we had actually developed a following. How fucking cool was that? At the bridge, I growled out. “You fuckers know this one?”

The crowd reacted, screaming back. Finn ripped through his solo, and right before the chorus picked up, I added. “Sing with me then.”

And they did. They got so loud that I turned the mic toward the audience, and they loved it. This was just the tiny tip of the fucking iceberg. We were going to fucking be stars.

When the song ended, I put the mic in the stand and clapped my hands. “That was fun. Wish I could play that again. But we got another one for you.”

Gonzo pounded out the intro for our next song,Blood and Pain.

Bloodletter, leach, you have no shame

I'll drink from your skull

Fuck it all

I'm done with pain

The crowd didn’t scream along with me, but it was a harder song to pull off. They did bang their fucking heads, though, and at one point, I feared a mosh pit was breaking out, but bouncers put a stop to that quickly. Haha…fuckers! It was not hard to see what we could be with Midnight Hunt behind us. And maybe some of our bookings weren’t simply because the word was getting around that they were. Maybe some of it was merely because we were good.

After the first set, Finn and Tank hit the bar. I stuck to water, not wanting to fuck up my voice when we had two more sets to go. The second went off much like the first. We played a cover from Midnight Hunt,The One About Fighting. That was a big hit.

There were more drinks between the second and final set. I noticed Finn’s technique slipping. I was pretty sure the audience wouldn’t pick up on it. I’d bet most of them were drunk or well on their way to it. But I noticed.

After the final song, we packed up the equipment and moved it to the back. We couldn’t afford anyone fucking with our shit. I helped Gonzo load the drums in his van and pack up the sound equipment and mics before heading back inside.

At the bar, Finn was doing shots with a short redheaded girl and an average-looking dude with brown hair who appeared to be her boyfriend. Finn was known to go both ways and to swing, so I wasn’t surprised. He’d moved on to tequila, but I put up fingers for another vodka for me and Gonzo. Before I drank mine, I elbowed Finn’s shoulder. “Where’s Tank?”

“Left.”

“What?”

“With some dude he said he knew. Told him we’d get his bass home safely.” Finn winked and shot back another drink. “Woo! That’s good.” The girl at his side giggled. “Another?” She nodded and Finn ordered another round for the three of them. At this rate, he was going to burn through his pay, which was generally what these places hoped for. Not me.

I slammed back my shot. “Gotta head out. Gonzo?”