We talked for another thirty minutes about this and that. We mainly talked about music, seeing as we both loved it so much. She was an amazing singer. She just had this beautiful voice. Between her passion for singing and my obsession for guitar, it made a pretty good conversation despite the fact that we had completely different tastes of music. Time just flew by as we discussed the topic. Eventually, at about three, Tori said she had to get going. I escorted her to the door and opened it as she put her shoes back on. Then it hit me. Should I ask her out on a date right now? It may seem a bit over the edge, but we just had this great conversation. I finally decided that I had to man up somehow in order to counter the infantile influence of the diaper. Just as she was walking through the door way I started to speak.
“Hey Tori.” I started.
“Yeah?” she replied, turning around.
“I was wondering. We never did get to see that movie. Would you possibly want to go watch it with me this weekend.”
“Yeah.” she answered, smiling. “I’d love to!”
“Sweet! I’ll call or text you later then! See ya!”
“See ya, Stephen.” She walked to her car and drove away. It took me a little while to realize that she just said that she’d go to a movie with me. My heart burned with joy. I was so happy, I didn’t even care if it was a pity date or not. It was progress. Thinking unnaturally positive, I headed back down to my guitar. I’ve only wrote one song about a girl before. Now there’s two.
The next week flew by. Everything was just going right. Tori and I hung out almost every day and it wasn’t awkward at all. In fact, we just seemed natural together. I had never felt so happy in my life before. It was like the missing piece of me was filled with a warm, glowing light. We talked about many topics, growing closer with every conversation. I had even contemplated telling her about my condition, but I figured that it wouldn’t do any good to the situation. I was pretty sure that she’d be accepting, but the only good that would come of telling her would be that I wouldn’t have to be so careful to hide it in front of her. I feared that it would eventually tear us apart for some unknown reason. I decided that telling her was the last thing I needed to do.
In addition to my progress with Tori, my band was playing better than ever. The other guys had decided to name the band Bite the Bullet in my honor, and I didn’t object. I thought that it sounded more like an album than a band, but I was just glad we finally had a name. As every day’s practice ended, I felt more and more confident in the band. I had no doubt that we would win the competition, which really made me excited to perform on Saturday.
Finally, Saturday came and I found myself driving over to Timberland Park, where the battle took place every year. It was a really nice outdoor venue that was built for multiple musical performances by various organizations in the community. Nearly every concert was well attended, but the Battle of the Bands was always the most popular. People of all ages flocked to the park to witness the event. Bands of every genre could be found there: everything from country to hip-hop to metal. In the spring, bands had to submit a demo CD to a panel of judges that selected the fifteen best bands to perform. It was enough of an accomplishment to be picked to play, and winning the battle usually gave the band some amazing local publicity. All that being said, I was once again extremely nervous.
The worst part was waiting for my band’s time slot to come, though. It was fun listening to all the different bands, but I just wanted to go. The battle started at three in the afternoon, but my band was assigned the nine o’clock slot. Everyone got 10 minutes to set up and 20 minutes to play. Since there was a professional sound crew there, things went very smoothly.
Throughout the time waiting, Tori kept me company backstage. It was nice to have someone to talk to that wasn’t nervous like me. It really calmed me down. But when the band before us took the stage, it was time for her to go into the crowd and let me focus. For those thirty minutes, Alex, Joe, Zack, Corey, and I just sat next to the backstage stairs and stared at each other. We knew that we were able to win the competition, but we needed to execute. Missing one beat or messing up one riff would be enough to take us off the top.