I need you to want this

Flash 5
Prompt: I need you to want this
Characters: Kiley (Kill) Marshall, Phoebe Marshall, Harrison Blake, Eric Hayes, Chris Fraser, Tyler Wilcox (Amped)
Timeline: Early “season 1″. First meeting between Phoebe and Evil Spacemonkey.
Author’s comments: This is from Kill’s perspective watching the meeting she has set up between her sister (ex tour manager of a band called I Constantly Hug My Subwoofer who are very famous) and the band she has discovered.

They were late. I couldn’t believe it. The one day I needed them to take something seriously and they had been on a bender the night before. Eric had promised they’d be five minutes but hearing Chris being violently sick in the background made me wonder if they’d ever get here.

I looked over at my sister sitting on the couch in the corner of the practise room. Her arms were folded and she stared into space absent-mindedly tapping her foot. Anyone else would have thought she was bored or annoyed but I knew she was nervous. I had desperately wanted her to come and see the boys play but I hadn’t held out much hope. She had barely left her flat in months. I needed her to want this. It was all balanced so precariously though and I was terrified one of the boys would mention Van and she would just walk… close herself off again. It would have been easier if they didn’t hero-worship the guy. My sister’s ill-fated relationship with Van was a well-kept secret outside the industry. She had never wanted him to make it public because of her fear that people would think she had gotten her job because she was sleeping with him. He’d liked it that way because it was easier to mow his way through every groupie in sight if they thought he was a free agent. His public persona gave away nothing of the shell that fame and drugs had slowly turned him into since she met him.

I sat down next to Phoebe and the doorway was suddenly filled with limbs as all four of them tried to jam through the door at once. It would have been funny if they weren’t so late. Wordless, Phoebe got up and walked over to Blake.
“Phoebe Marshall,” she said putting out a hand.
I had never seen Blake look so unsure.
“Harrison Blake,” he said.
“Vocals, right?” she said.
“Guitar and keys too.”
“Nice to meet you, Harrison.”
“Um, people call me Blake?”
It came out nervous and shaky. All his bravado had vanished.
Phoebe looked at him just a little longer than what was entirely necessary and said, “Is this a boy’s school?”
“N-no?”
“Am I your teacher?”
“No… I…”
“Then I’ll call you by your first name, Harry.”
I envied her this ability to just disarm people. Eric of course barely acknowledged her presence. He barely acknowledged his own presence.
Tyler grinned at her from under his hat. No shirt. Always no shirt! Did he even have a shirt?
“You used to manage I Constantly Hug My Subwoofer, right?” said Tyler.
No, no, no… please god no.
“Yes,” said Phoebe.
“I heard you left the band acrimoniously,” he said proudly.
I saw Phoebe tremble slightly and Chris kick Tyler angrily.
“What?” said Tyler in what he thought was a whisper. “I don’t even know what acrimoniously means. Is it bad?”
“You’re the drummer right?” said my sister, deadpan.
“Tyler Wilcox,” he said proudly.
Chris quickly shoved Tyler aside. “Chris Fraser, lead guitar. So um, what was it like working with Subwoofer?”
Phoebe sighed and shot me a glare. “They’re a great band, very talented.”
“And Van Ridley? He’s a god. I…”
“I’m not here about Subwoofer or Van,” said Phoebe cutting him off. “Just play me something, ok?”
She turned on her heel and sat back on the couch.
“I hate you,” she whispered under her breath.

This was the test. The test that would decide if my assessment of the band’s talent was based on more than my desperate desire for them to succeed. The test that would decide if it was worth the trauma I had gone through to get my sister out of her flat. Despite the fact that Chris was distinctly green around the gills and Blake was still looking somewhat like someone had shaken him, they launched into “Paradox Machine” with their usual brand of infectious enthusiasm. The sound almost tore the plaster off the walls. I was struck yet again by how instinctively their sound shouldn’t have worked. The screaming mixed with the synths and Chris’ almost metal riffs. It was like The Used beating Hellogoodbye over the head with an amp.

They finished the song and Phoebe did not stop them. This was new. When I was a kid she used to take me on A & R expeditions.  She rarely listened to a whole song, never mind two. She lifted her hand and made a gesture that I took to indicate “more”. They switched over to a ballade. I watched Blake sing only to Phoebe. She watched him intently, never breaking eye contact as he crooned at her showcasing just how beautiful his voice is.

At the end of the song she put her hand up to stop them. Everyone stood silent for a moment before Chris caved.
“How was it?” he asked almost desperately.
“You have something,” said Phoebe. “What it is, I have no idea.”
Chris grinned.
“Don’t you grin at me, Kermit,” she said. “You could sound like an angels’ chorus in your practise room. Until I see you live, I have no idea if you can tour. Find a gig by the end of the week. Right now I’m missing My Super Sweet Sixteen.”
She was gone before any of us could even say goodbye.

“Oh god,” said Blake. “That was a disaster wasn’t it?”
“Oh no,” I said. “Not at all. That was one of the best receptions I have ever seen her give a band.”
I’d seen the hunger in her eyes while they played. She wanted them and now nothing would get in her way.
“Where the hell are we going to find a gig in two days?” asked Eric.
“Leave it with me,” I said. I had an idea. Now I just needed to put it into practise.