Rock Revenge: Alex's Story

She grinned at me and it turned my blood cold. She wasn’t here for fun, that’s for sure.

She was here for revenge.

Dee

The club wasn’t anything special. Trouble — I wondered if Alex had named it that. It seemed like something he’d do. It was a bit of dive bar really. I walked through the downstairs bar, the carpet threadbare and sticky. A few people sat around the bar, not even glancing up at me. I went upstairs, although I heard no music playing.

When I walked into the band room, it felt like walking in on a private party. Some geezer was up on stage proposing to his girlfriend.

There wasn’t a huge crowd, much smaller than I’d expected. That added to the private party feeling. The place stunk of stale beer and cheap cologne and rock. The same as any other band room. The bar ran along the right side of the room; the stage at the front, of course. A blond chick sat at the door, looking bored and picking her nails.

A girl walked up on stage. She looked like she wanted to hide away. She giggled and accepted the proposal. People cheered.

I got a whiskey from the bar and knocked it back, waiting for them to finish. I needed to make an impression and it’d be a dick move to call attention to myself in the middle of all that mushy talk. They looked happy, really happy. I bided my time, trying not to fidget or look nervous. I wouldn’t bite my nails. I wouldn’t get out my phone.

Then I spotted Alex, off to the side of the stage, partially hidden. My stomach dropped and my hands shook. I inhaled, a few sharp breaths to steady myself but they didn’t seem to hit my lungs. My chest squeezed so tight, there was no air getting to it. My first impulse was to run. Run far, far away from Alex. It was like being in the same room as the devil, but I could handle this. I had to handle it. There was no retreat. I’d made a promise to Jake, and I couldn’t go back on that now.

Alex walked back on stage.

Then he started playing again. You could tell he’d been a bit ruffled by the interruption. He sucked in his cheeks. He always did that when he was agitated. I knew. I’d devoted so much of myself to studying that man. There wasn’t a mannerism I couldn’t interpret.

He had a new band now. I’d known that, of course. Still, it made my heart contract to see him on stage with those strangers. It should’ve been Jake beside him playing guitar and Pete on bass. But it never would be again.

There were two guys on stage. Alex must be the only guitarist. The other two didn’t seem like they particularly liked him. His sound had changed. Darker, moodier. And far more controlled, like he had to prove something to the world.

I wanted to feel nothing for that man, prancing around the stage like a sleek panther, all muscle and sinew. The only emotion my heart needed was the black hatred I’d cultivated.

Maybe, one day, he’d be brought to justice and he’d pay for his crimes. I wasn’t even sure if that was possible now. The police said there’d been no evidence, not enough to charge him. If it’d been anyone else driving that car, they’d have been breath tested as soon as the accident had been discovered. Not Alex. And now, years later, it was impossible to prove he’d been drinking. If justice couldn’t be served through the legal system, there were other ways. I’d make sure of it.

He finished the song and said something to his band members, then swapped his guitar for an acoustic. The room became quieter as Alex got settled.

Perfect timing.

I stood up, my stacked heels making me tower over most people in the room, and pushed my way to front of the stage. People parted to let me through. One man tried to grab my arse but I turned to him, quelling him with a stare. I’d learnt the hard way how to take care of myself.

Alex didn’t miss a beat in his playing. His gaze seemed to merely scan the room without settling on me but I knew he’d seen me. Not just seen me, but recognised me, and he knew why I was there. That was a good thing. I hoped it might trigger some remorse in him but any regret now would be too little, too late.

I leant against the foldback speaker, hoping to put him off his game, just a little. To get a reaction out of him.

In the years since I’d last seen him, Alex hadn’t changed much. I didn’t know what I’d been hoping for. Maybe that he’d aged badly. That he’d put on weight or he’d started balding. That would’ve made it so much easier for me but nothing could’ve been further from the truth. He was a man at the peak of his good looks. I’d forgotten how much his eyes smouldered.