His Swan Song by Ginny F. Tuman (best android ereader txt) 📕

Standing there in front of his dressing room mirror, his hands clinging to the counter before him. The feel of the cold smooth tile was the only thing keeping him in the present. He had his head bent down so that his greasy, shoulder length, dirty blonde hair was hanging in front of his face, which would have irritated him some if he had had his eyes open. However, they were shut, so he could prevent the room from spinning. In the far off distance, he could hear the dull roar of the fans that he just left, all of them chanting together. Though he couldn’t hear the actual word, he know what they were saying, the same things that they say after ever show they finish performing at:
“Encore” repeated over and over until they finally do return to the stage for their actual final song to be played. They all were just waiting for the allotted time before they could return to finish up this gig.
“Trey, Trey..” the bassist called, “we’re going out soon, you ready?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine” he spoke though gritting teeth, in the same position still unmoved.
Just like every time before, they started off the day with the band discussing which songs they were planning on singing and in what order they wanted to sing them in. But unlike any other day, Trey decided that he wanted to finish this show with the only song that he has ever written himself, the song about her.
This was the first time that he was going to be performing this song live to his fans, those that were diehard fans would have heard it before, but for everyone else this was going to be something completely new, and that was why he wanted to go with it, that and because tonight was going to be a special night for him; the finale to it all.
While his band moved around him getting ready and doing all the things necessary for the encore song, Trey finally opened his eyes and started to lift his head slowly until he was looking directly into his own hazel brown eyes. He was trying to see what she saw in him before she left. His eyes started to drift down over his nose, to his lips, down his throat. By the time they reached the old band t-shirt he was wearing, a flood of memories rushed into his mind: the way that she watched him with anticipation as he started to unwrap the present she gave him, the way that she would stroke his hair while they would lay together on a quiet evening when it seemed like the world had gone still, the way that she danced to his songs, and the way that she gently ran her fingertips over his neck so that it would make the hair on the back of his neck raise. He hasn’t thought of her name, much less said them aloud, to anyone since the day she left him.
His eyes continue to wonder down his shirt and onto his arms, it briefly pauses on the bend of his elbow. He glances at the scars of a life before he met her, and the new wounds of what would have surely been the scars of a life after her.
The band manager walks into the dressing room at this time and shouts “Hey guys, great show, but we’re gonna need you back out there in five!” and he left shutting the door behind him. At this time everyone else was either strapping their instrument to their body or picking up their drum sticks and twirling them around in their hands. They were getting jacked up for this finally song, talking to each other about who knows what, trivial things. Trey took no part in the things they were conversing about, but he did shift away from the mirror he has now been gazing at since he pretty much enter the room.
When he turn his lanky body around to look for his bag, everyone glanced his way but they said nothing, they have seen this look in his eyes before, the almost vacant look of them, even if they tried to talk to him, he wouldn’t respond in away, so they let him be and returned to their previous conversation.
It took Trey a few moments before he was able to locate his bag all the way across the room where he left it recently. He needed it, so he walked a nearly perfect, stumble free walk across the room to get it. As soon as he had this bag in his hands he knew that everything was going to be alright. It was at this moment that they heard a knock on the door, and a cute young girl with a head set on opened it letting everyone know that it was time for them to make their re-grand entrance back onto the stage.
So while everyone else was filing single file out of the room all pumped up for this encore song, Trey made his way back to the mirror he spent his time at, and plopped his bag down on the counter. He unzipped the bag and dug through it until he was able to find what he had been searching for. By this time he was the last one left in the dressing room, and when the pulled his hand out of the bag he held a needle full of the heroin that was already at full blast coursing through his body, ready to fulfill his premeditated plans. He stuck the needle into what would be the final wound he’d ever cause on his body again and pushed the plunger until there was nothing left. He pulled it out and discarded it onto the floor of the room with a glass shattering sound.
Right before he started to walk out the door he took one quick final glance at himself in the mirror and was happy to see the biggest smile spread across his face, where so recently it had been vacant for so long. With that he swiftly walks out of the room, down the hall way and onto the stage where he is met with a thunderous roar from his fans.
When he reached his stand he smoothly grabbed the mic and announced to the crowd “This song is called Emily” and with that the music from his band members engulfed him and as he looked out to the sea of these people who loved him, preparing to sing his beautiful swan song, he was happy for the first time since she left him, and that was because he knew that by the time this song was over he would be with his beloved Emily once again.

Publication Date: 02-23-2011

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