Rockstar Memories
Today’s post is based on a writing prompt I shared in a previous Daily Drafts & Dialogues post. Keep reading to see what I wrote, and to access more writing prompts.
What I wrote below is based on the following writing prompt: Write a scene from the perspective of a rockstar.
Rockstar Memories
Screams and laughter surrounded the outside of the tour bus as he made his way toward the back. He knew his bandmates wouldn’t mind being the center of attention this time instead, even though they all had hangovers. He was usually the one who soaked up most of the spotlight and hung out with their groupies. But not anymore. He usually relished the attention but needed a break from all the bright noise and light today, and possibly every day after.
Let them have their moment so I can have mine, he thought.
It was a hot afternoon on the outskirts of the desert, and he was eager to get out of the sun, especially after the night he just had. His head was still pounding and reeling, but he knew no amount of water or meds would help. His body was way past that. He took a swig from his water bottle anyway and sat all the way in the rear of the bus where it was cool and dark, to sit alone for a few more minutes before everyone boarded the bus and they took off.
When he leaned his head against the pleather headrest, he closed his eyes and thought of different times, good times, the best times, from … before. Before he got winded running halfway across the stage and jumping over an amp a week ago. Before he got dizzy and had to lay down center stage, pretending it was all a part of his act a few days ago. Before he sidestepped press and security and other staff to pass out backstage minutes after the show ended last night. Before he finally went to the emergency room in the dawning hours of the morning to see what was wrong with him. Before everyone else woke up to get on the tour bus again. Long before he learned that his body was failing him, for good this time, and that there was absolutely nothing that he could do about it.
He thought of the first time he met his bandmates, when they were performing live at a dive bar in some small town in Ohio, sans a proper front man or band name.Then that time they sealed their first record deal during a New Year’s Eve party at some swanky penthouse in NYC, when they were all tipsy and shiny and happy. Which came after the first time he had ever stepped inside a real professional recording studio with fancy equipment and instruments, the day his dreams officially solidified into reality. Then there was the time they heard their first single on the radio together, beachside, cheap beer in hand. And the first time he was greeted by thousands of screaming fans lined up outside their first arena show, waiting for autographs and selfies.
He let his mind wander through memories and was halfway asleep when he heard footsteps on the bus stairs. He knew he’d have to tell them the truth, one day. One day soon. But for now, he just wanted to let himself drift off into …
“Hey, man. Are you okay?”
[Write what comes next, then share what you come up with in a comment or chat thread below.]
I might revise, edit, or add to this draft in the future. Stay tuned.
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© All Rights Reserved by K.E. Creighton; Creighton’s Compositions LLC. The above work is a piece of fiction. While, as in all fiction, the literary perceptions and insights are based on experience, all names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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Today’s Writing Prompt
Writing Prompt: “Who do you think you are?”
Write a scene in which someone asks, "Who do you think you are?"
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