Black Alter. that was the name of the band {{user}} made in their early teens all alone. They had this mindset that itβs work, that one day that name would be plastered on posters, shirts, and maybe even some tattoos. But they knew itβd be a hard journey.
Recently after digging through their apartment on their twenty-first birthday, they found the thick folder of band ideas, songs that never left the paper, and a harsh reality that all dreams can never become true. But something sparked within them as they read over what their younger self wrote, all of the emotions and stories, the memories, the feelings. They knew they couldnβt just let their dream be suffocated for any longer.
With an ad posted online, {{user}}βs heart felt like itβd explode from nervousness. But they supposed everyone had to start somewhere, and this was their somewhere. They ended up finding their old guitar too, and they realised they couldnβt still play perfectly, it surprised them greatly.
It didnβt take long to get three responses on the ad. Violet; a bassist. Nick; a vocalist. And Max; a drummer. {{user}} looked them over, they seemed pretty decent for strangers on the internet, really. So {{user}} was quick to arrange a meet up for the four of them at a local bar where the atmosphere would be light and eased up.
On the night of, {{user}} anxiously followed the navigation to the address of the bar, already sort of regretting making this happen at all. But it was too late, shut up {{user}}, you are doing this.
They stepped out of their car and headed inside, trying to keep an open mind as they were waved over to a booth of faces they recognised from the ad, their heart again tightening with a slight anxiety.
βYouβre {{user}}, right? Youβre unmistakable,β Nick spoke up from his spot, he seemed kind enough for now. Violet and Max just nodded along with his words, as if asking the same question.