Like Water

It's our last gig on the road before we need to make our next album. Right now we're all backstage. Pretty high brow place. Certainly a step above other places since we're not packed tight together like pickles in a jar. Smells better too. I've just been sitting down on the couch, strumming some chords on the first guitar I bought for this band. John's saying I need to relax myself before we start, something about how my leg is shaking. Fucker doesn't know how to direct his hands to do anything but play bass, he certainly doesn't know shit about how I'm feeling. I'm fucking ecstatic, I haven't felt this amazing since our prime years. 20 something years back and I still feel like a 25 year old pipsqueak dipshit making it big. I don't give a fuck if it isn't the 80s anymore, our crowd certainly doesn't. I can hear them past the curtains screaming our names, the sound of our collective fanbase adoring us and wanting to bang us hasn't changed a bit. I'm sure a good portion of them still want me too.

Who the fuck wouldn't want me? I'm Neil Cashmere, of course they want me. Never needed some stupid Botox surgery like ol' drummer boy Thomas and I don't need makeup like that faggot John. I'm 50% beautiful and 50% talent, I never needed anything else. No crutches for me. Show's going to start anytime soon and I can't fucking wait. When they hear that I've still got the guitar and still got the fingers to use that bitch, I'm in the history books. I'm up there with the fucking greats in Valhalla and tonight will prove that. Donny's saying we're up. Fucker is the only one here who recognises me as the best guy here, bastard deserves a high five.

I feel like running out here. I could run an Olympic marathon right now I'm so fucking pumped. I can take on the entire world and they'd do nothing but lick my boots and praise me as the God I am. Just need to hit that simple state and I'm fucking in. Been practicing getting into Flow State for a fair bit before this performance after Don told me about it a week or so ago. Said I've probably hit it before without thinking but I could train myself into getting into it intentionally. I need that. I'll get that. If these guys need to remember me, I'm going to give them a show they'll never forget. And if they're going to get that, I need to be running at full capacity. Pure focus on what needs to be done. Flowing like water. I can do this.

First's song is up, it's the hit that got us famous in the first place. Lily's Over There. Simple love song but blown out of proportions. Can't get into Flow with this song, I've gotten sick of it. It's far away as our worst song, it never lets us do the shit we can actually do well. Plus it means I've got to sit back in the background while pretty boy Thomas tries his hand at doing some "groovy" beats. Bastard. Just gotta play along until it's my time to shine. Tonight's going to be a night to remember and it's not going to be because of Lily's Over There. It's all just going to be me.

Song's finally done, thank god. Still thinking on where I need to show off my greatness. Doing it so quickly at the second song is not going to be the time, I need to save that for somewhere near the end. Can't be right at the end though, that's Donny's big solo. Powerhouse moment that's all his and not my place to ruin it. I mean of course I'll be able to overshadow it earlier in the gig but I can't overshadow him when it's his time. He's the only guy here I respect. Thomas is a candy ass sell-out and there's not a moment that goes by where I don't want John to drown himself in his clean fucking water. God he's doing it again, proudly swigging a bottle of that shit like it's the tastiest thing in the world aside from his boyfriend's cum. Bastard still wants to taunt me about what everyone fucking did in the 80s. I did it the worst but so did everyone else. Not clean Johnny though. Never clean Johnny.

Oh yeah, flow state. Still need to decide when to hit that. We've already swept through a good chunk of the songs that I don't give a shit about, we're going to be hitting the real heavy hitters soon. The ones our actual fans care about, not the pussy shit that the general populace listens to. This is for the fans of actual rock and roll. The people that give a shit about what people like us do. The world at large throws shit like this away so that some bullshit like Blink 182 or some other jackasses who just touched their instruments get all the attention. But not the people who actually give a shit about good music. They're still here and they deserve good music. So let's see...next song I'll do it. I'll get into flow state and treat these fuckers to something they've never seen before.

Time to say farewell Martian. And time to say hello to the song that's going to make me a legend: Going Over. It was the best song on our sophomore album and it's one of our few songs that lets me get a solo. Can't hit it just yet. Need to savor it. It comes near the end of this song so I need to hold myself steady. Can't fucking wait. The whole world will know me. Donny's pouring his heart out into the vocals as always. Thomas is mindlessly doing his part. John is absentmindedly acting like a cock. He doesn't know what's going to happen. It's just going to make things all the more sweeter. Almost there. Almost there.

It's here. Solo time. Just need to think about what's in front of me. This isn't about putting on a legendary performance, it's about performing. Just need to do what I do best. 50% talent has to grow into 100%, fuck the beauty side. This is what I have to be known for. Fuck the past and fuck the drugs, this is who I am. My hands are going off by themselves. They know how to play better than any prodigy. Muscle memory kicks in and I'm playing these strings like a man possessed. Everything becomes a blur. I'm nowhere but here and now. It's all coming at once and it feels natural. The noise of the crowd screaming is starting to blend in but I have to block it out. I'm nowhere else but here. Keep them god damn hands moving. Let those techniques come quickly to keep things fresh. I'm hitting the jackpot. This is it. There is no other time but now. No other time but

John. What the fuck does he think he's doing? Stop grabbing my goddamn shoulder, my solo is still on. If it extends the performance then roll with it, don't waste my time. He's still holding my shoulder. You ain't stopping me for shit. You've had your fun, let a real adult show you how it's done. Shit, he's throwing me off my rhythm. I'm losing the solo. Losing flow. Need to stay like water. I push him aside from me and keep playing. Managed to do it on rhythm too, the crowd will love that. Back to flow. Nowhere else but here. He's trying to grab my guitar, that cocksucker. This is my fucking moment. And he's ruining it. The moment's going to pass. Almost out of flow. Need to stop him. Gotta make him learn his place.

If he wants the guitar he's going to fucking get it.

I hold onto the neck of the guitar and swing it at his head like an ax. His teeth fly off into the backstage, think one of them got lodged into the guitar. His mouth is dripping blood all over the stage. He looks at me wide eyed like he's never been hit before. It's the best I've ever seen him. Need more out of him. I keep a hold of the guitar and swing it at him again, hitting him in the neck. He drops to the floor in a daze. Need more. Nowhere else but here. I flip him to the side so that I can keep seeing the look on his face. I hold my weapon over his head and slam it down on him. And I keep going. Hands are going off by themselves. Every time I slam it down, blood splatters off into the front row. They're still there. They're either transfixed or they can't leave. Either or, doesn't matter. I keep slamming. His bones are breaking through the skin. His jaw is looking like mush. His tongue hangs loose out of his mouth. He's still looking at me. I see those eyes shimmer. He still knows how to piss me off. One more slam and he's not looking at me anymore. Crushed his fucking eyes like grapes. Donny's trying to drag me off while Thomas is barfing up his breakfast onto his drum set. Can't stop me. No use trying to stop the flow. I'm like fucking water. Can't stop me. Can't stop me. Can't stop

I'm no longer on stage. I'm backstage. My hands are kept tied behind my back and they've got a gag over my mouth. Probably worried I'll bite off someone's face. Not needed. I ain't killing anyone else here. I'd have to be some weird psychopath to try that, fuck that. John was enough. That solo was enough. I think I'm finally in. The legends must be smiling at me. Best damn solo I ever played. Would've been better without the interruption but eh. Beggars can't be choosers. I can just about see John being carried away on a stretcher. Still dripping blood everywhere. The cover isn't enough, little parts of his scalp and cheek are sliding out. Hope you enjoy the makeover, cunt. You'll be forgotten in a couple years, guaranteed. I'll still be known. Still going to be the legend. Even when I'm rotting in prison, diehard fans will excuse me. I'm the fucking king. I'm Neil Cashmere.

Best guitar player in the fucking world.