Sophia on Drums

The rumble of a roaring crowd sends an electric buzz through Sophia's limbs. The hair on her arms stands on end as her bandmates tune their instruments in the backstage room. From around the corner, Sophia could hear the band preceeding them. They weren't all that, frankly. Off-tempo and more loud than anything actually impressive. Sophia gripped her drumpsticks in each hand.

She was sitting around her drums. It almost felt as though the beat was pounding through her chest rather than her ears. Hands on her legs as she stared down at her set. Psyching herself up to wipe the fucking floor with those amateurs.

Sophia is a fucking rockstar. She isn't intimidated by anything. At least, not anything that this band is bringing to the table. She can't help but sneer to herself. If anybody on that stage saw the look in her eyes, they'd think it was their last day alive.

If Sophia knew anything, she knew she was good. She knew good music. She was good music. And as the melody trailed off and the crowd screamed she knew it was her time to shine.

She stood up from her set and started helping her bandmates load the instrument on stage. They rolled up behind the first band, silently setting up their instruments as the shit band in front of them bathed in undeserved admiration.

Once their setup was ready, it was Sophia who took the microphone first. Sweat already on her brow under harsh overhead light, her lungs burned with effort as she called into the crowd.

"Are you ready for a real fucking party?" Sophia screamed into the venue. The crowd's excitement swelled along with Sophia's excitement. She needed more.

"I can't hear you!" Sophia yelled out again. She leaned over her drums and cupped a hand around one ear as if to pick up the most minute of sounds. The crowd roared again, louder this time.

"That's what I fucking thought!" Sophia yelled. "This is me, right here, right now! And I'm about to rock your entire fucking world! You call this shit a concert? I'll show you a goddamn concert!" As she continued the crowd's excitement only increased. Tension in  the room was reaching a breaking point.

Sophia returned the mic to her bandmate. She spun her drumsticks, one in each hand. A trick she'd been perfecting for years. As much as it was important for the drums to back the singer and not overpower them, Sophia could never live a life outside the spotlight. Simple tricks and a loud personality ensured that she got all the attention she needed.

With each slam of her drumsticks together, counting in the band, Sophia shattered her glass walls of inhibition. It was time to make some noise. But not just any noise.

The kind of noise that gives a musician chills. The notes that rattle your bones. The beat that hammers in your body from your feet to your scalp.

The kind of noise that melts away the rest of the world. Even if for a moment. For the briefest moment. Nothing else matters during this time.

During the time she's in the spotlight. Unburdened by her self esteem, or abject lack thereof.

Anybody unfamiliar with her music could have confused her, head down arms in the air, for a flailing puppet. Completely incomprehensible movements though chaotic were the driving force of a song that echoed in her soul. The organized madness that led her bandmates to the same sensation.

Absolute ecstacy.

But nothing ever lasts forever. Though with the end of every song, Sophia will lift her head to see the faces of strangers enamoured with her. 

What is it that they see in her? Is it her performance? Her bandmates? Her simple tricks, offering a distinct spectacle and flavour to an otherwise already impressive display?

Sophia couldn't care less. She needed this.