Cure for Pain

Part 4: Seasons in the Sun

“Dude, come on!” I said, trying to persuade him to put the CD in the PA system. “You chose the music yesterday, I do it today!”

John gave me an annoyed look, but eventually gave in. “Whatever. It better be good, though.” As he popped the CD in and pressed play, I laughed. “Dude, these were one of the best bands back on Earth! Play track 7, though. It’s the best.”

As the stereo played the familiar lyrics, I felt truly at home. Ever since Coleton left earlier that week, I really had no one else to hang out with. I started hanging out with John way more, and he was a pretty cool guy. He played drums like no one else’s business, he loved video games, and he loved trippy music, which is why I thought Revolver would be a good album to play.

“She said ‘I know what it’s like to be dead.’” Lennon’s vocals rang through the entirety of John’s apartment as we sat down and played The Quest of Star, a really good Legend of Zelda-esque game.

“Dude…” he said, looking at the stereo. “This is awesome. Who is this?” I forgot that John didn’t know who the Beatles were; he didn’t grow up with them. “They’re this really trippy rock band called the Beatles. They’re hailed as one of the best rock bands back on Earth.”

Before I could continue, my phone rang on the table. “Uh… hello?” I said, turning the volume of the stereo down before picking up the phone.

“Hey, sugarcube, it’s Applejack.” A familiar southern accent rang through the receiver. “Oh, hey, AJ! What’s up?” I asked.

“We need your help today. Come over as soon as you can. It’s not dangerous, but it’s mighty urgent, so hurry.” She said before hanging up. “Sounds serious.” I said to John. “I have to go.”

As he reached to the stereo to eject the CD, I simply shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Keep it until the weekend’s over, and give it to me at work on Monday.

“I hope this is important.” I said as I reached Applejack at Sweet Apple Acres. “You interrupted a very euphoric music and video games session.”

Applejack gave me a look of pure contempt. “Seriously? That’s your excuse?” I laughed. “Kidding, I’m just a slacker. Now what do you need?”

“Well…” Applejack started. “The most recent Apple Family Reunion is happening tomorrow, and for the last few years, I’ve headed the arrangements for the reunion.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I saw the episode. The one where you completely destroyed the barn, right?” I saw from her face that that probably wasn’t the best way to clarify what I was saying. “Whatever, go on.”

She sighed, her face returning to its normal amber color. “Anyway, there’s always been a couple of ponies who played music during the reunion, and the drummer can’t come… says she’s sick or something like that.”

I looked up. “So you need me to play the drums for the festivities?” She nodded. “That would be appreciated, yes.”

“I can’t say no.” I said with a smile. “Just give me a couple of hours to set up the drum set to my liking.”

“Sure thing, sugarcube.” She said, leading me to a desolate field. It had a sizable stage in the middle of it, and it reminded me of the field that Woodstock was held in. Behind the stage was a storage unit, and she led me in to see the drum set.

“It’s… vintage.” I said, trying to keep a smile. In reality, it WAS vintage. Too vintage. The finish on the drums was somewhere between completely grainy and rusted beyond all belief, and the heads looked like they hadn’t been replaced in fifty years?!

“It’s Granny Smith’s.” Applejack replied, giving me a smile. “Her family was very musical, and her brother gave her this drum set. Shame she never learned it, though.” She said. “Well, I’ll leave you alone to work your drummin’ magic, so see you later!”

With that, she closed the door to the storage unit, leaving me and the grandma set alone together. “Well… where to start?” I groaned as I sat down to begin what was sure to be a long night of repairs.

“Well… it’s done.” I said the next morning to Applejack when she came to check on me. “It took forever and 120 bits, but it’s ultimately a better set as a result.”

It was tedious. I had to completely redo the finish and replace the heads with my own money. I bought a new cymbal set and new stands, and redid the set up to my liking.

“Well, that’s good.” She said, checking something off in her mental checklist. “Go ahead and transport the drum set to the stage, I guess.”

“Wait, Applejack!” I yelled. She turned around, exasperated. “What?” she said in a harsh voice. “What do I need to know to play?” She simply sighed. “There’s no songs, it’s improvised. Play a simple drum beat or something and you’re golden.”

“Okay.” I said, taken aback by how harsh she was. “No need to take that tone, I was just curious.” She looked me straight in the eye. “If it seems that I’m not on my best behavior, it’s probably because I’m just a bit stressed, okay?!”

I shot her another glance. “I’m just saying, I can be as brutally honest as you are.” She looked like she wanted to lay into me, but fortunately Applebloom showed up just before she could. “Big Sis, everypony’s here! C’mon!”

“Sure thing, Applebloom! She said, following her to the barn and leaving me to transport the drums all by myself. I heaved a sigh and picked up the bass drum, half-carrying and half-dragging it to the stage.

When I finally reached the stage, I saw a face I hadn’t seen before. I assumed he was part of the reunion because he was setting up a guitar and amp, but I had never seen him, in the show or out.

“Uh, hi.” I said, putting out my hoof. “The name’s Walker.” He bumped it. “Nice to meet ya, Walker. I’m Aceymac. Need help with the drum set, partner?”

I laughed. “You read my mind.” He was a really nice guy; very helpful and easy to get along with. We made some small talk while I set up my drum set. Apparently, he was Applejack’s cousin, and lived in Ponyville OFF of the farm. “So…” I started. “Wanna warm up? With some improvised shit?”

He laughed. “Yeah, sounds good. But don’t play that wuss stuff; I’m rock n’ roll or nothin’ at all.” I gave him a smirk, raising my right eyebrow. “Sure thing, man. Just be warned: I rock out more than anybody.”

With that, I clicked my sticks together, the familiar sound of hickory laying down a swingy, jazz-style rhythm. If he can make this rhythm rock, I thought, then he’s really good.

CRASH! I started off with a strong crash, snare, and bass drum hit, then going into a more moderate, jazzy ride pattern. He was good. He combatted the calmness of my riff with beefed up, overdriven raw power and howling vocals. It sounded like he had four distortion pedals on at once. Not that I was complaining, of course.

“Dude…” Aceymac said as the song climaxed then ended, leaving silence to envelop the stage for the first time in almost half an hour. “You’re good.”

“Are you kidding, dude?” I said, laughing. “Listen to yourself! You kick ass at guitar. You put so much skill and emotion into the guitar, you make my drums sound puny!”

He was about to respond when I saw a familiar red bow emerge from behind his guitar amp. “Acey?” She asked. “You there?”

A warm smile enveloped his face as he leaned down to hug his cousin. “O’ course, Applebloom. Just warming up for later this afternoon with Walker.”

“Well, the family wants you back at the barn.” Applebloom said. “Walker can come too, if he wants.”

“I think I’ll do just that.” I said, smiling.

“So…” I said, talking to Aceymac in the living room over a bottle of cider. “You in a band yet?” He simply shook his head. “Lots of ponies want me to play guitar for them, but none of them are good enough, y’know?”

I nodded. “I know the feeling. I’m in a band, but I’m not too happy about the guitarist or the singer.” He gave me a quizzical look. “What’s wrong with ‘em?”

“Well…” I started. “It’s like they’re stuck in the past. The guitarist sounds like he’s from thirty years ago, and the singer isn’t even GOOD! I don’t know about where you’re from, but where I’m from, we call them ‘classic rock’.”

Aceymac laughed. “Well, where are you from?” He asked. “Earth.” I replied, bringing the bottle to my lips. A look of confusion swept across his face. “Never heard of it.”

“Didn’t figure you would.” I said, looking up at the clock above the Apple family’s hearth. “Dude, when are we going down to the field to play?” He looked at the clock as well. “In about twenty minutes, everypony else is starting whatever the hell they’re doing down there, so we have time.”

He pushed another bottle in my direction, but I declined. “I have a bad history with alcohol, especially when there’s too much of it.”

Aceymac gave me a mischievous look. “What do you mean?” I shrugged. “Wanna hear about it?” I asked. “It all started around a month and a half ago when I was invited to the Grand Galloping Gala…”

“Dude…” Aceymac said through laughter. “That’s hysterical. Are you bullshitting me, or did that actually happen?”

“Not kidding.” I said, laughing with him. “It’s a wonder my girlfriend even stayed with me that… night…”

He looked up from his alcohol. “Why did you falter just then? Like… you just realized somethin’.” I sighed. Might as well tell him. “That night, we were both significantly drunk, and we… you know…” I said, giving him a hoof gesture to show him.

His eyes went wide. “That’s hilarious!” he said. “You had sloppy drunken sex after making a fool of yourself at a formal event? I mean, wow. I’m not even that bad of a drunk.”

“Yeah…” I said, understanding how humorous it actually was. “I guess I have a low alcohol tolerance, huh?”

I stood up. “Dude, we’ve got to go.”  He looked up to the clock. “Shit, you’re right. We’re late.”

As we approached the stage, the smell of fresh fruit and vegetables made my weak at the knees. “Dude, that smell!” I yelled. “Don’t get all hungry yet.” Acey said. “We’ve still got to play at least thirty minutes before we can take a break.”

“But dude…” I whined, going over to get an apple. “It smells so goooood.” Acey gave me a serious look. “One apple, then stage.”

It felt weird; it felt like I was being reprimanded. But I didn’t care. Those apples were delicious.

“Alright.” Acey said into the microphone after we finally got situated on stage. “Let’s go!” I clicked us off, making no hesitation to play as hard and fast as possible.

As the song progressed, getting grittier and more blues-oriented by the second, I noticed that more attention was being paid to us, and less was being paid to idle chitchat. Eyes were falling on me and Acey on stage, and our presence in the middle of that field was staggering.

“Dude, how many noise complaints do you think we had tonight?” I said humorously to Acey as we walked home. “I dunno, maybe ‘round twelve?”

“I don’t care what you say, you’re gonna join a band with me.” I said, taking a piece of paper and writing my phone number on it. “I don’t care if it’s just a duo, or if it’s with my already-existing band, but this energy we command can’t just disappear.”

He laughed. “Sounds good. Give me a call when you want to practice. I’m pretty much available anytime on the weekends or any evening on the weekdays.”

“Alright.” I said as we reached a fork in the road. “Here’s my cell number. I’ll give you a call sometime when I can.”

“Alright, man.” He said. “Later.”

With that, we parted ways. As I was walking home, the cold early-spring air chilling me to the bone, I got a text from Octavia.

“Hey. Come on over to my house tonight, we have to talk about something.” The text read. Dammit! I thought. Whenever a girl “needs to talk,” it’s never something good. I half-walked, half-dragged myself to my marefriend’s house, dreading whatever it was she needed to talk about.

“Hey.” I said, entering the quaint home of my bass-playing marefriend. “What’s up?” Octavia looked up at me, a depressed look on her face. “Not much. Just… Mojo and Melody quit on us.”

“What?” I asked, jumping for joy on the inside. “Yeah!” Octavia replied, mad. “Apparently, we have ‘creative differences’ and they just up and LEFT!”

“Well…” I started. “They weren’t the best.” She looked at me as if she wanted to kill me. “Well, they weren’t, but they were all we had!”

“Had.” I said. “Past tense. I have someone else who’s better.” She looked at me, a disbelieving look on her face. “Oh really?” She asked. “Who?”

“Well…” I started. I told her about Aceymac, and how good he was with that type of music. “He’s AMAZING on the guitar, and he fills his vocals to the brim with emotion!”

Octavia smiled. “I guess we can audition him tomorrow evening! Text him and see it it’s cool with him.” I gave her a hug and a kiss. “Sounds good.”