Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ The Rockstar ❯ The Rockstar ( Chapter 1 )

It was the year Andrew broke out of high school and fell into the music scene. He always dabbled in the arts, all of them, his favorite being music and then drawing. His band, Its All In Your Head, frequented a local 21 and under club and a music scout “found” them. Their agent got them ready for their debut concert and album at lightening speed. They were famous underground almost over night. The only thing Andrew regretted was that his best friend, right hand man could not be by his side.

Andrew waited backstage for their cue to start the concert. It had taken Andrew about twenty minutes to get dressed in his costume, which happened to be black pants, a white shirt with a frilly collar, knee high boots and a deep blood red vest. He looked like someone out of a history book. His eyeliner was already smeared, his long hair naturally black was in a neat ponytail, held by a ribbon that matched his vest. The two other members of the band were still getting ready; while he waited he peeked out from behind the curtain. His head jerked back. Someone had a good hold on his hair. He turned around ready to fight. His eyes grew wide as he realized who it was. A friend he didn't think he would ever see again, but the eyes were different, cold, distant. This friend grabbed Andrew's hand and pulled him in giving him a kiss before disappearing. Bryan.

Andrew remembered Bryan. They were best friends all throughout high school, until the day Andrew told Bryan about what he was. Andrew was a Great in a unit of fighters. He explained quite a bit of what the fighters did and what the different factions were. Andrew had known what he was since he was three; his parents told him after he blew up the couch in a fit of rage. Bryan was nervous through the whole explaining of the different factions, but he was surprisingly interested in the Shifters. Shifters could change into anything they desired, and copy the attacks an enemy sent out. The Demons and Glamours irritated him. In the end he thought that the whole concept of the fighter units was a lie and hated Andrew afterwards. In school he never again talked to Andrew, didn't eat with him, didn't partner up with him, didn't do anything with him, he felt betrayed by his best friend. They had never lied to each other about anything before, he could not figure out why Andrew would tell him such a tall tale.

One day after school Bryan was walking home, Andrew tried catching up with him to try and make amends. Before Andrew caught up to him though, a Demon that had been hiding in the shadows appeared behind Bryan. In the Demon's hands was a sword that was laced with blood from past victims. In an instant Bryan was down, the Demon gone as fast as he had appeared. Andrew ran to his dying friend in hopes that he could save him. Unfortunately Bryan was already dead. The blood had drained from the wound faster than anything Andrew had ever seen.

Andrew walked back to the dressing room for a glass of water; he had to get Bryan out of his head before the concert started.

“What's wrong? Looks like you've seen a ghost.” The band's manager said when Andrew passed him. Andrew just ignored the question. The Guardian would understand, but Andrew would rather not talk about it. Once he had his thoughts in line he walked backstage to wait for the announcement of the start of Its All In Your Head's concert.

After what seemed like too long the opening act was done and his band was announced. The crowd went crazy, his name screamed by every female fan in the group. He and his two other band mates dashed on stage and took their signature gentlemanly bows. After the politeness of the bows there was a complete about-face. A microphone shoved in his face Andrew sang his first song, melodies and harmonies slammed the stadium. Heads banged, bodies against bodies rubbed, arms swayed, some eyes closed, all ears opened. Music was everywhere, in fingertips and toes. Andrew had a presence on stage unsurpassed by any other. His band was good, but when the bass was in Andrew's hands or the drumsticks in his possession or the keyboard getting a pounding by him, people stopped and listened. His lyrics—mind numbing and heartfelt, all through his Goth rock.

The crowd was into the music. And Andrew tried his best not to think about Bryan. The energy fed the band for three songs before a quick costume change and a switch of lead singers. Andrew traded with the keyboardist to display the versatility of his talent. The new singer did not have nearly the talent that Andrew had, but the fans still loved it. Heads banged and bodies rubbed up against each other. Two songs later and it was back to Andrew singing and the energy rising yet again. After two hours of entertaining, it was time for the grand finale.

Andrew threw up his hands. The stadium was quite. Slowly the music began to play, and Andrew started to belt it out. Energy grew from the crowd harder than before. Andrew drew on that energy like he had all night. The music grew faster. From Andrew a light erupted out, moving through the crowd, like a sonic boom. People reaching out to feel the light felt that it was no optical illusion, the energy blast was real, their hands tingled. A pause, another shot of light, then the music went even faster, Andrew's voice got louder and louder raising above the cheers, then he threw the microphone to the side. His voice rose louder still, people started to hold their ears, and then he got so quiet that the crowd had to strain to hear him over the instrumentals of his peers. Andrew started to glow like a light bulb. The song was almost over, which was a good thing; Andrew didn't know how much longer he could hold on to the energy and control his powers. For the last line of the song Andrew jumped as high as he could and gracefully landed knelt on one knee; light flew through the crowd again. The light disappeared and Andrew collapsed backward breathing hard, the concert was over. Cheers erupted through the crowd. The two existing band members picked Andrew up and carried him off stage, but not before they held his exhausted body up to do his farewell bow.

Off stage Andrew absorbed the energy left over from the concert and started to regain enough strength to make it out into the limo with the rest of the band. Inside the limo he leaned his head against the cool window. Fresh out of high school Andrew was exhausted. Prancing all over the stage was really tiring. Gathering and throwing energy was tiring. He thought his fighter training would help him out.

“Man you should really use less energy in that final song, you'd last until you got off stage,” Gary, the drummer, said putting his hand on Andrew's forehead. He was concerned about Andrew.

Andrew nodded his head in agreement. He did use too much energy and he knew it. But he was just trying to keep Bryan out of his head.

“I just want the fans to be amazed when they leave,” Andrew replied quietly.

“You are going to have to do something different tomorrow night Andrew, or you won't be able to last the week,” Devon, the keyboardist, said as he pulled out a box of cigarettes and his trusty lighter.

Again Andrew nodded his head. He closed his eyes and his band mates let him be. Andrew hadn't slept very well for the past three days, so his energy was low to begin with. The limo dropped Andrew off at the condo, while it took his friends to a local bar to try and regain the energy they threw out.

Inside the condo Andrew groggily swam through the filth of his band members, found his bed, and plopped down. He fell asleep almost immediately. In a dream Andrew saw Bryan again. Andrew woke with a start after only three hours of shuteye. He found himself unable to get back to sleep, so he got up and went to the tiny desk in the corner of the room. In the desk was the drawing paper and pencils he had asked for. As he sat there his right hand held up the side of his head and his fingers ran through his long black hair. His elbow held in place the crisp white drawing paper. His left hand, held a pencil, ready to draw anything he could come up with. Andrew's hazel brown eyes, unfocused after staring at the paper too long, started to close. He forced his eyes open and made a face at himself in the mirror posed on the wall in front of the desk. This shouldn't be so hard; I remember what he looks like. After a while Andrew did start drawing, but unsatisfied with his work he tore up the picture and threw it in the waste can. He still couldn't sleep so he padded to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He wasn't the typical famous musician, he shunned drinking. He promised his mother when he was 12 that he would never drink. He was glad to offer the pledge; alcohol was not a good thing for the men in his family. But right now a drink sounded really good. I should have gone with them to the bar. Damn age difference.

Andrew switched off the lights and stood at the sliding door, moved the curtain open and looked out. It was very dark so he couldn't see much. After he rubbed his eyes and they adjusted, Andrew noticed that Bryan was outside. Andrew made a move to open the sliding door but before he did Bryan slammed himself through the glass. The door shattered all around Andrew, yet he did not get hurt.

“Why are you here?” Andrew asked Bryan.

Bryan just stood there in the room, speechless like he didn't know why he was there. He shook his head like he was trying to get rid of a bee buzzing around. He put his hands to his head, his body bent over.

“Get away from me,” Bryan said.

“Why do you torture me?” Andrew asked his voice full of pain.

“I don't know.”

Andrew put a hand out, he was going to get the information he needed whether it was by force or not. Bryan still bent over did not see Andrew's hand descend and did not feel the soft touch between his shoulder blades. Like a movie screen, Andrew saw in his mind everything he needed to know. Bryan was on assignment to kill Andrew, but he did not know about the assignment, a Demon possessed him. Bryan was fighting back and losing himself in the process. He remembered the friendship they shared once, and could not bring himself to kill Andrew.

Andrew removed his hand. You are supposed to be dead. Bryan stood up suddenly and shoved Andrew backward. Andrew fell on the coffee table that was behind the couch, the lamp that was sitting on it slammed to the ground and the light bulb shattered. Andrew flipped backward and landed in an awkward position on the couch, his legs in the air. He propelled himself back to his feet and got into a fighting stance. He could tell that it wasn't Bryan that was doing the fighting; it was the Demon that possessed him. Hearing the crash of the lamp Gary and Devon ran from their rooms. The air was thick with the feel of a battle.

“Battle systems engage,” Devon said from behind Andrew. A glow of white light started to surround the room. Electricity flickered and went out.

“No, we can't, he's possessed,” Andrew said pulling Devon's arm and pointing to Bryan's eyes.

“It doesn't matter, he's in our territory now,” Gary said pulling Andrew away from the circle that started to enclose Devon and Bryan.

“Word spells, no weapons, do you accept?” Devon said.

“I accept”

Andrew ripped his arm from Gary's grasp. He could not see the battle that was about to take place but, he could see the circle. He turned to Gary, his eyes full of disgust, he felt betrayed. A band of Greats that had trained in the same unit, grew up together, and they still didn't connect as well as they should have. Andrew was the sensitive type, he was attuned to emotions. He could communicate with someone and get almost every detail of their life simply by feeling the emotion in the voice or through body language. Devon was pretty much a go-getter, fighting enemy fighter units when he felt like it, but he didn't fight with his band mates. Gary was a silent person. He didn't like it when the band conflicted on anything, but he was very opinionated, typical Libra.

“Who sent you?” Devon said to Bryan in the battle arena circle.

“I did,” Bryan's voice was not his own. “I am a Demon Lord.”

“Why are you using Bryan?”

“That seems a stupid question. Who should I use other than an ex-friend of the one I'm trying to destroy?”

“Enough with the chit chat lets get started,” Devon said. He raised a hand, palm facing Bryan. “Rip apart!”

Air whizzed past Bryan. His body felt like it was tied to four horses and they were pulling his arms and legs out of the sockets. His body wasn't prepared for the pain and he doubled over holding himself in a tight bear hug. The Demon Lord again took over Bryan's body and demanded that he stood up right.

“Slice, rip, shatter” The Demon Lord said through Bryan.

To Devon is seemed the air was full of glass. His face was a motionless stone slab. “You are a pretty weak Demon Lord,” Devon said seemingly unaffected by the word spells. His face contorted just slightly as he looked at the stump that use to be his right hand. He started to laugh. His laughter rippled the circle, threatening to break it. The blood from his wrist stained his long sleeved t-shirt.

“Regenerate,” Devon's hand started to remold.

“No you don't,” Bryan said as his body acted to the will of the Demon Lord again. A knife manifested, he grabbed it and ran toward Devon. He tried to stop himself, but the Demon Lord knew what he was doing. Tears sprung to Bryan's eyes, he didn't want to hurt Devon, someone he knew since high school.

Devon had to stop the regeneration process to dodge out of the way. If he kept loosing blood he was going to loose the battle, he was getting weak. He couldn't believe that Bryan was so easily controlled. He thought that his love for his friends would overcome the Demon Lord's demands.

“Something's wrong,” Andrew said, his head in his hands. He was viewing the battle by channeling Devon's thoughts. “He's loosing too much blood.”

“We can't do anything Andrew,” Gary said not to comforting.

“I've read about a procedure that those blocked from the battle can get into the circle,” Andrew said slowly as he got up from the couch. He could see the circle. He just needed to cut a doorway into the arena and he would be able to make his way into the battle to help out Devon, and hopefully Bryan too. With his left hand he drew an outline of a rectangle; he made a circle to represent a doorknob. Using both hands he pushed on the imaginary door, but instead of it opening he fell to the floor, the circle giving him a buzz of electricity.

“Damn it, why didn't it work?” Andrew asked, frustrated he got to his feet.

“Because you didn't do it right,” Gary sighed. He went to the outline put a hand on it and demanded the battle system engaged allow them inside the circle. The door opened. Andrew stared at Gary with distaste before they were pulled through the door with a sudden jerk.

Devon was on the floor. He was in pain and he did not have enough strength to get up.

“Help Devon,” Andrew told Gary.

There was nothing Gary could do about the hand in the battle arena, it was complete but deformed. He'd fix it before the next concert. All he had in his mind now was to get Devon out of the circle. He slowly put Devon over his shoulder and headed toward the door he made. He hoped that he would be able to get out, and then he remembered how roughly he and Andrew was pulled in and thought better of it. He knelt down and put Devon's head in his lap, that seemed to be the safest thing to do at the time.

“This isn't you Bryan,” Andrew said desperate to make him come to his senses. Bryan shook his head. His eyes looked crazy.

“This is how I made myself.”

“What do you mean?” Andrew was confused.

“You told me about the fighter units, you know what happened the next day?”

Andrew just looked at him.

“A Demon came and took me to his “hiding place,” Bryan made quotation motions for the last two words. “He said that I was one of those Shifters you told me about. He said that it was unfortunate that I didn't believe you about the fighter units and that I didn't know about myself. That I would some how be part of his plan to destroy you. But I knew the instant that he napped me that you didn't lie to me. I'm sorry,” Bryan started to tear up. “The Demon Lord hired another Shifter to look like me for the rest of the school year and then “killed” him off while you watched. He was trying to destroy you by your own grief.” Bryan couldn't kill his best friend. He couldn't get revenge on something that wasn't the lie he thought it was. He tried to control his body yet his own voice failed him. In his possession was now a sword. The Demon Lord manifested it during a pause in Bryan's story, Andrew didn't seem to notice it at all, he just saw Bryan. “No!” Bryan's body surged forward at Andrew, the sword was poised in the air ready to strike the target down.

Andrew threw out his hands, “Freeze.” Midway through the circle Bryan froze in place. His sword still extended from his hand, waiting to slash what the Demon Lord demanded. Andrew walked to Bryan, grabbed the sword by the blade, his hand ripped open, the sword fell to the ground. His blood dripped to the floor and down the blade. He placed his bloody hand on Bryan's forehead, right between the eyebrows. “Release,” Andrew said. Bryan's mouth opened, out zipped a tiny glow of red light. The light flew toward the edge of the circle and turned into a Demon. Bryan was released from the possession.

The Demon Lord that stood in the circle was something Andrew had only seen in a book that his parents had shown him as a child. He had red skin and red eyes. This thing's eyes weren't only red they were snake like. The pupil was long, very different than a normal human being. Instead of fingernails he had claws. Nasty sharp yellow claws. They looked like they could infect a person with poison just by getting scratched. For the life of him Andrew could not remember what his parents said about this Demon.

Andrew pushed Bryan into the pile that was Gary and Devon. Blood still dripped from Andrew's open hand, but he was going to use that to his advantage. He clapped his hands together smearing blood to his other hand. He made a cup with his bloody hands and blew into it. A blood red ball of energy formed. He pulled his hands apart and the ball grew bigger and bigger. He launched it at his friends. Nothing like your own blood to protect those you love. “Stay inside that bubble.” He told the three.

Meanwhile the Demon lord reached for the sword that was forgotten. He thought he would also use Andrew's blood. He sliced his own hand on the blade, mixing his blood with Andrew's. “Together we are bound in blood!” The Demon Lord cried raising his hand showing Andrew and the others what he had done. A cord of light united all five of them. The sword disappeared. He decided that a sword would kill Andrew too fast. A set of scalpels manifested on a small table.

“You know it's not really you I want revenge on.”

Andrew looked at the Demon Lord like he was retarded.

“300 years ago a great great great, yada yada grandfather of yours destroyed the tribe of my father. I vowed to one day avenge the deaths of those souls. And you just happen to be the last of your family because I'm going to kill you.”

“My something or other relative killed a tribe of Demons good for him. I don't do stuff like that, I entertain. Or just save my own ass with my friends.”

“That's why you were so easy to find once you broke out on the music scene.”

Andrew was bored of the conversation. He grabbed at the light, but it held him good, pulling him to the enemy. “Release!” But nothing happened. The bond was too strong, his blood was too strong. The Demon Lord was going to torture Andrew until he begged for mercy.

“Blaze of blood destroy!” Bryan cried within the protective circle Andrew had created for his friends. The cord connecting them all caught fire.

“Good Job smarty pants,” Gary said jokingly.

The Demon Lord, being the one that called for the bond of blood was the center. His body caught fire. It started where the cord connected him to the other four. It spread slowly a disease causing pain. Once the fire devoured the Demon Lord it indiscriminately moved toward Andrew, since it was his blood. Bryan demanded the release of the bond, yet they were connected still. He created a knife through a word spell and broke the shield that protected him, Devon, and Gary.

Andrew fell to his knees. The fire was an energy drainer before it physically killed. Bryan, lost from the connection of the blood bond, ran to Andrew. Gary placed Devon's head on the ground—he was out cold, and walked to the two. He placed his hand on Bryan's shoulder and nudged him over. Andrew now fell to his back. The pain was getting to him, nothing in his training as a Great, or a fighter unit prepared him for the pain. All his energy was almost gone, leaving only death. Gary moved a hand to Andrew's heart and summoned his strength back to him. Slowly Andrew began to regain his composure. The fire quit at the touch of Gary's hand to Andrew's chest. The bond could not hold through a release from a Guardian. The battle arena circle disappeared and the room was normal again. Gary moved on to the unconscious Devon and woke him from his pain, after he fixed the deformed hand.

“Why didn't you tell us you were a Guardian?” Andrew asked Gary.

“Because the manager and my father told me not to tell or show anyone unless someone were dying,” Gary shrugged, before falling exhausted to the couch.

After all of the excitement the remaining three were tired too and climbed into a bed. They didn't care who they slept with just as long as they had a comfortable place to sleep for a couple of hours. Its All In Your Head had concert that night and they were introducing their new band member.