The Hush Society Presents... by Izzy Matias (best desktop ebook reader .txt) 📕

walks to the middle of the stage with one of the lads from the London crew.

"Hear ye, hear ye," he says and stomps his foot. "To new traditions!" He tells us that The Hush Society will be passing the hat—yes, a literal hat, one of the crew was wearing a fedora and volunteered it—to keep our community alive. "Let’s be honest. It’s gobsmacking that we’re able to put together a show through people’s generosity by lending us a space, equipment, their time and talent all for free, but if we want this to be sustainable, we need a bit of money to keep us afloat."

He explains where our money is going to go and that by no means is donating mandatory. Everything is up to us: if, when, and how much we want to donate. "Part of whatever we collect tonight will be going to the musicians themselves. Because let’s face it mates, the music industry does not pay well."

This triggers laughter from the crowd and hollers of agreement from fellow musicians.

"So…on with it, then!" The hat is tossed to the crowd.

And that’s how we are able to afford getting to our next city—and the next. Cassie manages to get us places to stay—more specifically, couches to sleep on—at our last four venues and our hosts generously sponsor some of our meals. Passing the hat eventually becomes part of the program.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Static resonates throughout the gallery and overpowers the thunderous applause. As we unplug the cords from the amplifiers, there are cries of joy. I smile at tonight’s crowd reception. The gallery is packed with people. It’s been a few weeks since that silent gig. With every gig we play, our fan base grows.

Tonight, this posh art gallery has transformed into a blank canvas. Paintings and sculptures are nowhere in sight. The pieces from the last art show sold out and the next one is in two weeks, so holding the gig here tonight is perfect timing. The walls are bare slabs of wooden panels with lights surrounding the blank spaces. The air wafts of hard ale and fruity drinks.

"That was The Fortunate Only from Beverley, East Yorkshire closing tonight’s line-up of performers. Again, thank you for coming to our episode," the city hub manager says as he takes centre stage. "And now we’ll be passing around a box. It is not mandatory to contribute, but your generosity would go a long, long way."

He scratches his beard and motions for someone in his team to pass around the collection box. Almost every person in the front row takes out money from their pockets, either spare change or bills from their wallets.

"If you aren’t already aware, tonight’s show is the third to last of The Hush Society’s first ever summer tour before the festival in Manchester," the manager continues. "One to two acts will represent each city and part of the ticket sales will go to start up a non-profit organisation called Ear for Music, which aims to guide rising musicians with their journeys. If you ask me, it couldn’t have been a more fitting match for The Hush Society."  He goes on to explain the specifics of the program.

I can't wait to jump into the nitty gritty of establishing the program and watching it transform from an idea into something tangible. I don't know if it will earn at all, but the drive comes from the anticipation and excitement that we are doing something with our music. That we're more than just another indie-garage band composing songs borne out of heartache and other people's experiences.

The collection box is at the third row as Benji, Eric, and I finish packing up our gear. We head to the corner of the gallery where Amber and Cassie are nursing their drinks.

"Great set," Amber says and interlaces her free hand with Benji’s.

I stand beside Cassie, but keep the distance between us. She offers her drink to me and I take it.

"You lot are getting better every time you’re on stage," Cassie agrees.

"Arigato," Eric says thank you in Japanese and bows.

I thank her, but before we can start a proper conversation, someone from the crew motions to her. She excuses herself and tells me to neck down her drink.

The crowd eases into relaxed chatter. They linger on instead of leaving. Another favourite of mine is that people choose to get to know each other after a show instead of vacating the place.

"Hi." A gal approaches us. "I’m Rosie. I love your music."

"Thanks," I say and grin.

"Cameron, Eric and Benji, right?" she says and looks at each of us as she recites our names. She's wearing a The Kooks shirt.

I nod. "You come to these gigs often?"

"This is my first time and I love it," she gushes. "I first heard about The Hush Society through Callum Ford, then found The Fortunate Only and Amber Skye through their social pages. I came out to see both of you!"

"That’s really sweet of you," Amber says. "Thank you for coming!"

"Did you come alone?" Eric leans towards her. I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

Rosie shakes her head. "I’m with my sister." She goes on to point out a striking brunette who’s in an animated conversation with another gal.

"Why don’t you introduce us to her, too?" Eric says with a wide grin.

"Eric," Amber chastises.

"What?" Eric feigns innocence. "It’s fun meeting our fans."

"She’s not really into music as much as I am," Rosie tells us. "I forced her to come with me because I didn't want to go alone."

"Ouch." Eric pretends he’s been shot at the heart. "But hopefully seeing us live might have changed her mind?"

"I haven’t asked her yet," she says.

"Eric, you can’t expect everyone to love our music," Benji says. "We can’t please everyone."

Eric rolls his eyes and pulls out his mobile.

"And girl do I know that the hard way," Amber pipes in.

"That fight is a brave one," Rosie says, referring to Amber telling the crowd about her anorexia. "Thanks for sharing your story with us during your