We’ll see

Okay, it was electric.

There was a shift in the air as we began to play. It was effortless, really; we’d start a song, and we’d play it almost expertly every time. We went for about an hour, and it felt like only a few minutes. Before I knew it, the three ladies were free-styling on their respective instruments in a grand finale, and the entire bar was erupting in cheers.

I didn’t even remember which songs we’d played. It was all a flash.

Before I knew it, we were all being force-fed shots at the bar. Drink after drink after drink after drink….

The next thing I remembered was Betty telling us to hop in her van. We did (though, in hindsight, she was also insanely drunk, so maybe we shouldn’t have).

She brought us all to her apartment and opened a cabinet full of more liquor, and we all drank some more. When I woke up the next morning, I only remembered one conversation:

“So… we were fucking great, right?” Betty asked us all, waving around her personal bottle of some sort of flavored vodka.

“Tocábamos nuestros instrumentos como si fuéramos ángeles, y Dios nos envió a difundir Su palabra.” Serena mumbled. She apparently got really hot and forgot English when she drank, as she had taken off her shirt and was laying on her back, only speaking Spanish. I don’t think anyone knew what she was saying.

Jane nodded. She seemed to handle the alcohol the best, though she also drank the least by far. “Yeah, we were good tonight. We’ve never had a crowd go that crazy for us.”

Betty squealed. “Yes! I couldn’t fucking believe it! All thanks to this mother fucker…,” she smacked me on the back, making me hiccup, “I told you fucks he could sing!”

“Tiene un don!” Serena yelled.

Betty continued. “So… we are a band now, yeah?”

“Huh?” I took a swig from… uh… whatever I was drinking. None of it had a taste anymore, so it doesn’t really matter.

“We… are fucking… we are….” Betty started a sentence over and over, not seeming to quite have the entire idea yet.

“Michael and the Chasers?” Jane suggested.

Betty’s jaw dropped. “That’s… that’s good…! That is us. Yes! W-we are… yeah! I am a Chaser!”

I had a feeling that that wasn’t a good thing to say, but I’d lost about half my brain function so I couldn’t remember why.

“Seguidoras…” Serena mumbled, staring at the ceiling in amazement.

And just like that? I was front lining a band.

I woke up the next morning and puked for about 40 minutes straight.