7 TRACK 7

We finished the song with Otep's simmering crash as I held out the last note of the outro, letting it ring. The bass drum inside my chest didn't stop and the hairs on my arms stood up.

I turned my head to look at Otep. He nodded his head like a bobble-head toy, slowly and with a big weird smile.

I looked at Dee and she still had her eyes closed.

We savored that butterflies-in-the-stomach moment of finishing a great number. And I had to be honest. It felt so damn good.

Otep broke the silence with slow claps.

"Wow... just... wow!" he said while shaking his head side to side. "What do you think, TJ?"

I stood there frozen. Dee finally opened her eyes and looked at me and then Otep with a raised eyebrow. "What is... going on?" she whispered.

"Hey, Bro! Wake up."

I flinched. "Uh... Yeah. It was very... nice!" I said with a stammer.

Otep laughed. "Look at what you did to Mr. English. He ran out of vocabulary words!"

Dee blushed, nodded her head and looked away.

"Why don't you sing like that always?" Otep asked, rising from his seat behind the kit.

"Hmm... it's a bit too girly for our style, don't you think?" She asked with a cringe.

"Girly Shmirly! You sounded way better singing in this style."

Again, Dee nooded her head and smiled. She looked at me, then lowered her eyes.

"Ah hah!" Otep shouted as he hit the crash cymbals. I flinched again while Dee placed a hand on her chest, caught off guard by Otep's wild impulses.

"Take it easy, Tep. Jeez. So hyper." I turned to Dee. "Told you he was crazy."

Otep pointed one of his drumsticks at me. "You, TJ... Write a song for Dee, you must," he said, imitating Yoda again.

Dee turned her head to look at Otep with knotted eyebrows.

I frowned too. "What? No. Wait. One of the conditions for me to be here is she has to write an original but that doesn't mean I'm going to mentor her with songwriting too."

"Brother... Just one song. They can enter the The Indie Jam with one of your old songs and a new one that you're going to write with Dee." he said, clenching both his fists. He pulled out a poster for the battle and held it out for us to see.

I shook my head. "Tep. I haven't written one song in nine straight years. I'm all rusty now." I unslung the guitar from my shoulder and placed it back on the stand.

"Rusty shumsty! Just a few writing sesh and you'll be back to your old self all lubed up."

I cringed. "Choice of words, Tep."

He ignored me and turned to Dee.

"What do you say, Dee?"

"But... I don't think true rock fans will like it." She pouted her lips. "And like I said, it's far out from our style as a band. The boys might not like it too and..."

"And what?" Otep asked.

"Well..." She looked at me again then lowered her eyes and fidgeted the heart pendant of her necklace. "I kind of want to be the Filipina Avril Lavigne or Hayley Williams."

"This is how you want to be known in the music industry? Just a copycat of some western Pop Punk vocalist?" I said to her with a frown.

"Well, no... but."

"Hey, TJ. Take it easy on the kid," Otep said.

"I'm not a ki-"

Otep hit the crash cymbals again. "You know, Dee. It's okay to have an idol to look up to. But there will come a time that you'd have to grow out of it so you could have your own identity as an artist. It's okay to have influences. I mean. TJ and I are huge Eraserheads groupies."

I rolled my eyes. "Again, Tep. Choice of words please."

He ignored me with a wave of his hand. "Stick to your strengths, Dee and I can see you now, up on the big dome performing in this style in front of thousands of spectators."

"Really?" Her face lit up.

"I'd bet my baby on it." He stroked the side of his snare drum. "and my life."

Dee turned her gaze towards me.

"Well, don't look at me. It's not like I have much choice here and you're the one who's going to sing," I told her.

Otep smiled. "Just one song. And you can do the rest of your songs in April The Vineyard style."

"Avril Lavigne," Dee corrected.

"What Otep said was the exact English translation of Avril's name," I explained.

"Oh." She pinched her lip.

"So... are you going to do it or na?" Otep asked.

Dee smiled. "Okay."

A low meow came from the corner of the practice room.

Otep looked at me. "See? Even your cat approves of my idea."

"Nope. Someone's just hungry." I sauntered towards Combo Jumbo who was playing with a bunch of coiled guitar cables.

I took out a biscuit from my pocket and unwrapped it. "Here, Buddy. Have a treat." I held out the biscuit on my hand as Combo sprinted towards me.

I stroked his back as he ate the biscuit. "Good boy. Good boy."

"You feed that cat too much," Dee said with a frown.

"He's just a healthy boy." I raised my head to look at her. "Now, you could go get your snack with the boys too. Hurry or they'll leave you with crumbs."

"Oh snap. You're right."

She dashed for the door as quick as you could say "snack".

An hour later, the band resumed practice. Otep went outside for a smoke and I joined him. We stood at the backyard, looking out on to the street as a Balut vendor on a bicycle, passed by.

Otep offered me a stick of Marlboro.

I raised a hand to refuse. "I quit, Tep."

Otep slipped the pack back into his pocket.

"Oh yeah. That's right. Macy made you quit. Sorry, Dude."

I laughed. "Yeah. She slapped a pack of Hope on my face."

Otep and I snickered at the pun.

"Who knew you could slap hope onto someone so hopeless?"

"I know, right? I wish she was here right now to slap you some more," he said with a laugh.

Otep lit his cig as he looked outside. He took a drag and blew a puff of smoke. "I really missed the scene, Bro... and Macy. I could never play for anyone else other than you guys." He took another drag. "We were so full of hype... Ready to rock the whole country, with you becoming the youngest songwriter to win Awit Handog and us performing it on national TV. That was one heck of a ride. Too bad it didn't last."

"Yeah," I whispered with a smile.

Otep dropped the cig on the ground and stepped on it. Then, he turned to look at me.

"I miss it, TJ. So bad. I'm sure you do too."

I sighed. "I don't know, Tep. Maybe. I'm still trying to heal. My one reason for doing this whole thing is already... gone. A songwriter is only as good as the muse that fuels his music."

He put a hand on my shoulder. "Brother, music heals... so does time, if you'd only allow it."

I chewed my lip in thought.

"The muse never dies, TJ. Your love for music is your ultimate muse. Otherwise, then maybe you didn't love it in the first place." He turned his head to face the tiny practice room. "After seeing how these kids rock... They're still raw but yeah. They're one pretty solid bunch, screaming potential, it lit up a fire inside me, Bro."

"Yeah... me too."

"Can't wait to see them play a real gig, man."

"Me too," I said with a smile.

We turned our heads around as a door squeaked open from behind us. Dee popped her head out. Combo Jumbo was perched on her shoulder scratching her ear.

"Hey, Lolo. We're done. Your stupid cat won't stop bothering me." She yawned. "I'm sleepy. Take me home."

Otep moved his eyeballs and looked at me with a malicious smile.

"Take... me... home?" he said to me with a raised eyebrow.

I elbowed him in the ribs.

That late evening, Dee and I rode on my scoot to take her home. I rode my red Honda in a slower pace as we cruised along the suburban streets of Legazpi Village.

"Do your buddies always leave you like this?" I asked with a loud voice.

"Yeah. Especially when they've got money to blow on internet games."

I scoffed. "What gentlemen... and they should've saved all that money for equipment."

"Relax, Lolo. They're boys. That's what makes them happy."

"Yeah. I noticed. It makes them so happy that they had to ditch you and leave the responsibility of taking you home to me."

"You complain a lot. You should have just let me take the Jeep. I can take care of myself."

I scoffed. "Yeah. Like the way you took care of yourself at the bar back then?"

"Can you stop recalling that? Now turn right here!"

"Jeez!" I swerved to the right as we almost missed the turn.

"Will you please give me a heads up first when we're going to take a turn? I almost hit a lamp post."

"Sorry." She snickered.

"This dorm you're living in. Is it co-ed?"

"Nope. All girls. Had a hard time convincing papa to even let me live out. If I hadn't gotten sick from the stress of the long trips back and forth to Cavite, he wouldn't have let me board."

"I guess he's just looking out for you."

"Ever since Ate Macy died, he's gotten stricter and I hated it. Even now, he's got eyes here to monitor me."

"Yeah. I think I kind of now where he's coming from... Wait. What do you mean 'eyes'?"

"Eyes. Like spies... like presidential security guards." Dee laughed. "Alright, stop here."

"Son-of-a-" My scoot's tire screeched as I made a hard break, almost throwing us out of balance.

I took off my helmet as I turned off the engine by the gate of a two story house painted pink and with a matching maroon roof.

I turned my head towards Dee then raised a finger. "Again, next time, give me a heads up!"

"Yes, Lolo," Dee said with a snicker. She hopped off the scooter and handed the helmet she was wearing and Combo Jumbo to me. I put him inside the front cat pocket of my hoodie.

She walked to the front of the gate and turned to me.

"Well, see you tomorrow, Lolo."

I scratched my head and hissed. "That is worse than calling me Kuya."

She laughed. "It suits you, though."

"Ha-ha-ha. Very funny."

She snickered and snorted.

"What a lady-like laugh," I teased.

"Shut-up! I'm going inside, now. Bye." She pulled one strap of her backpack and then took out a key from her pocket.

"Prepare lots of paper and your favorite pen," I said to her as she was opening the gate.

She turned around. "So, you're really going to help me write a song for the Indie Jam?"

"I told you to bring a pen, didn't I?"

She smiled.

"Don't get your hopes up, though. The moment my headaches come, that's it for me. I wouldn't be able to help you."

"Gee. So you really were having a nasty headache back at the bar."

"Yeah. Partly true. But your music was mostly to blame for it."

"Why, you." She was about to kick me when-

"Dee."

We turned around and a guy that looked like he came straight out of a Korean drama series was glaring at me from a sari-sari store across the street. He was wearing a white polo shirt buttoned up to his neck and a pair of skin tight blue Chinos. I didn't mean to pre-judge but the guy really looked like a douche-bag.

He waltzed up to us and sneered at me as he passed by, then turned his attention to Dee.

"Why didn't you reply to my texts?"

Dee looked at me. "The 'eye' is here," she said through gritted teeth.

I scoffed. "Eye see."