Cyberspace

           

Chapter 2: Cyberspace

 

 

 

 

 

            As summer closed in he put all effort in to coming out of the year with the best grades possible. Freshman year was the epitome of sub-par for goals and achievements, his grades not making the list; though a necessary priority. The Myspace years were a social outlet that stressed unique individuals. That or just social interaction. Regarding school, parties, or anything else under the sun. Trevor is as always the least socially-assertive, social butterfly. He didn’t care much for branching out, rather, expressing himself. Creating a profile that looked good, not too tacky and expressing his love for modern music, writing, and pseudo-nerdiness. He occasionally, posted, had conversations, and added who he wanted to his “top 8”. It seemed to him Myspace was a place that shaped one into finding one’s-self.  After about one month of exploring the net, he had fun in forming a definitive profile. Pictures were a good landmark in having a presence online, though he had no aspirations in photography. He followed Luke with hope that he’d have more than just an associative connection in real life. He expanded his tastes in music because Myspace was a hub for modern musicians trying to spread their words. He had more of a taste for the gritty, real aspect to a band’s sound rather than aesthetic looks or popular image. Of course there were exceptions if a band just hit their mark. He wanted to know how these musicians were organized and what the culture was all about. Each one seemed so definitive in what they say and the words they present in songs and the sound they hold. Lapsed back into the present, he knows the sounds he loves from months of listening and how he can relate to the lyrics. “It’s too bad you can’t listen to music all day, every day.” Trevor then watches a movie and falls asleep. The following day he meets with an old friend named Bill. Bill decides he wants to spend the day out of the house rather than in. After a serene scene of smoking weed in his undeniably sublime bed-room. He wants to go to a friend named Jamie’s place to try to make music.

            They pulled up on the opposite side of the street from the house. A shoddy, yet lively and homely place. Had a sort of make-shift garage separating the front and back-yard. Around the corner and through a gate was a semi-full band set-up in the dirt. Which at first glance seemed really odd, but when the drummer started playing and Bill was setting up was pretty awesome. Trevor is listening and feeling the vibe. After a few songs and meeting the group there he was aware they were done with their set. There was Ron, the tiny framed guitar player, Jamie, the leader and other guitar player, Michael, the drummer, and Steven, the bass player. Bill loved just jamming out and going with the flow of a riff or groove and branching out with leads or harmonious chords or melodies. So much fun to hear (To say the least) After Bill was basically exhausted of playing, everyone decided to take a break. Talking and laughing, however, Jamie was solely playing. The more straight-forward, heavy, open chords and chugging, off-time, and break patterns. Much like that which Trevor listened to on a regular basis, watching, fascinated, he was not participating in the other’s conversing. When Michael went to sit back down at the drums, Trev decided to try his hand at vocals. He turned on a speaker with a microphone attached after promptly asking Jamie if he wanted to do something of the sort. He also asked Jamie if he would turn up his guitar and go with something metal. He already knew he was going to do dirty vocals, otherwise known as screaming. So he just let it out. Complete improvisation. Passion, feeling, sadness and anger, raw, bleeding heart sound. The words flowing through him with prominent, “and is” and “that this’”. Exploring what he knows about who he is and what people do. Good and bad. Right or wrong. Searching or not searching. He knew he had no answers. But, he did know some of the questions. Maybe, he just had to take a shot at it. Once him, and they were finished, feeling great, like a high off of fun. Dusting off shoes and moving to the front yard, everyone started talking and actually getting to know each other.

           

Jamie was in middle school with Trevor and Bill. Although, Trevor only remembers seeing him on one occasion. Which seemed like he was getting traumatized by other people. But, Trev was sitting with some people he usually talked to which may be associated with the “Cool kids”. Maybe this is what lead him to this point. He took no definitive sides on anything anyway. Lapsed back into his surrounding, the drummer, Michael, was from out in the country. Ron had a lot of friends, though slightly younger than anyone else, and Steven was so unique and played well, it’s hard to say anything about him. As a whole, they were called Where We Sleep. Which he thought was ethereal and a solid name. Jamie seemed like a nice guy that wanted to find something in his life that gave it meaning. So upon leaving, most of the others had left. Jamie and Michael were skateboarding in the driveway. Bill and Trevor said their goodbyes and made their departure. The coming weeks exuded much promise. Creating music at Jamie’s became a bi-weekly ritual. Soon enough, Trev decided it’d be a good idea to go see some bands play locally that did their own version of heavy music. The show was at a local tattoo place that catered to musicians and artists, Culture Crater. They sought to bring in bands that are making a name for themselves.

            Making their way into the parking lot, Bill and Trevor prepared to get out of the car cautiously and at that moment, Trevor heard this rumble. A deep bellowing filled with this warmth that was unmistakably there. As he walked toward the door, he noticed that no one was outside and could see lights in the dark and feel activity inside. As they stepped inside, a band with a keyboarding was playing their set and people were getting crazy in the center. He heard the same warmth he could hear before of the bass bombing the room with sound and the people around him either excited or scared the s**t out of him.  Just watching was enough to immerse him into the way people were here. Not stifling or unnerving in the least, at least, to him. Like the kind of joy and stress that comes with finding a new friend. The wave blanketed over him. With this sure of hope and nostalgia, he knew this was something he enjoyed. It was obvious there was a reason why. He decided he would find it.