Chapter Text
May 20th, 2017. Chicago.
The smell of old cigarette smoke and stale beer hung heavy in the basement of the club. Malcolm Rose had grown to like that smell. It meant that soon, he’d be on stage, feeling the weight of the guitar strings under his fingers as his voice filled every inch of the packed room. But now, the club was still empty, brimming with a quiet anticipation as he finished preparing for their set. Malcolm double checked that all the cables were connected to their instruments and amplifiers, making sure they were neatly coiled and tucked away. This was the third show of Lost Checkers’ Roadmap To Your Heart tour; technical malfunctions and tripping over wires in the middle of a performance were rookie mistakes that he did not intend to make.
Careful to avoid being seen by any early arriving fans, Malcolm slipped up the back staircase. Although the Cobra Lounge, the small music venue they had booked for the evening, was on the outskirts of Chicago, the air still carried a dampness and a cool breeze as the sun began to set. He swung open the back door of the band’s black van and smiled when he saw Bennett, the lead guitarist, already inside. His legs were tucked under him as he sat on the floor, leaning against the inside wall of the van, vaping pensively.
“Hey, Ben,” Malcolm said, climbing inside and pulling the doors closed behind him.
Bennett looked up briefly, giving him a small smile. “Hey.”
The other three members of their band - Sam, Xavier, and Luke - were back inside the club, getting free drinks at the bar as their fans began to enter, but Malcolm wasn’t surprised to find Bennett alone out here. He knew Bennett still got a lot of nerves before performing. He was always a different person coming off that stage, though; his face would be lit up, and he stood up straighter as he politely shook off girls who just wanted to touch his arm or his hand.
Not wanting to disturb the guitarist's solitude, Malcolm didn’t press for conversation. He rummaged through his duffel bag and picked a shirt for tonight’s performance, shaking out the wrinkles. He pulled off his current tee shirt, its bold, scarlet lettering of “Rutgers University” catching his eye for a moment before he tossed it aside.
Three years ago, graduating high school and going off to Rutgers to join his older brother, Sam, had been Malcolm’s ultimate goal. He really didn’t have any plans past that. Sam was only a year older than him, and Malcolm had spent his senior year filled with jealousy when Sam told him about the parties, the interesting people, the freedom, and the music scene he had discovered in college. Although he had arrived full of excitement, Malcolm’s first few months on campus had been marred by a tumultuous relationship. After being dumped by her, getting over his damaged pride hadn't been easy; playing music with Sam and Sam’s roommate, Luke, helped him take his mind off the pain and confusion and find himself again.
It was actually Sam who said the infamous five words: “We should start a band”, but it was the natural choice. Malcolm was multitalented when it came to music - gifted with perfect pitch, a mastery of numerous instruments, and trained stage presence through years of performing in theater productions - he didn’t know why he hadn’t considered starting a band before. Sam was talented too, and he quickly picked up playing the bass guitar to fill out the sound of their little band. Luke Tenner was Sam’s roommate and closest friend at school - their taste in music was one of the things they had instantly bonded over when they met in their first year of college. Unlike the Rose brothers, Luke was a music major, the drums being his instrument of choice. The three of them, along with Austin, a guitarist and classmate of Luke’s, quickly took Sam’s offhanded suggestion seriously and began practicing together nearly every day.
Two years ago, after only a few months of playing together, Lost Checkers won a Battle of the Bands at their university. This victory gave them the opportunity to perform in front of the entire incoming freshman class the following fall. That was when their follower count on Instagram took off, that was when people started recognizing them on campus, and that was when Malcolm began caring more about writing new songs for his band than his academic studies.
One year ago, after a gig at a bar in Brooklyn, the four of them were approached by a young man named Teo, who worked for White Rabbit Records and had caught their set while scouting for new talent. He had been following the band online for a while, and was eager to offer them a record deal. After some deliberation, Austin was out. His parents were skeptical of the deal and wanted him to prioritize finishing college. But Malcolm, Sam, and Luke were intrigued by the opportunity.
This was where Bennett came in. Malcolm and Sam had met Bennett Rivas a handful of times before - Bennett was Luke’s childhood best friend, and he had visited him at college a few times over the years. He never stayed long, hanging out for a couple hours to play video games, or going to one of their shows, standing quietly off to the side of the stage as they performed.
Bennett had gone to Montclair State University, but had commuted to school while living at home. He had graduated from MSU’s music program in three years and was working at a guitar store when Luke put the idea together that Bennett should take Austin’s spot so that they could have a guitarist and sign with White Rabbit. Malcolm always said this was the smartest idea Luke ever had. Bennett was wildly talented - way better than Austin. He was probably a stronger guitarist than Malcolm, though he wouldn’t like to admit that.
After Malcolm, Sam, Luke, and Bennett recorded a demo for White Rabbit, they were encouraged to add a fifth member to the band. The executives at the record company thought it would help them stand out, worried that Malcolm’s stage presence was hidden too much behind his instrument. Xavier Williams was easily the first person that came to Bennett’s mind when they were presented with the idea of recruiting an additional guitarist. Bennett didn’t know Xavier too well, but he had gone to MSU with him. Xavier had been in a lot of Bennett’s music classes and they played in a few school ensembles together. They had been friendly, but hadn’t ever hung out much. They hadn’t even spoken in a few months when Bennett texted him, asking if he wanted to join a band he’d never even heard of, but Xavier fit in with Lost Checkers instantly.
With the addition of Xavier, Lost Checkers was complete, and they quickly began to record and produce their album. When Demarking My Heart was released in September, the idea of going back to school was far off their radar. Sam and Malcolm had told their parents they would only take a gap year. They had to see the opportunity through and they could always go back and finish their degrees if it didn’t work out. Sam was only a few credits away from graduating with a bachelor’s in microbiology, a decent fallback. Malcolm had completed his first two years of college as an evolutionary anthropology major, but struggled to explain what that meant, or what he would do with that degree. Although he had enjoyed his classes, he knew going back to school was not an option, not after he had gotten a taste of what he truly wanted to do with his life.
In December, Lost Checkers got their big break when one of White Rabbit’s leading artists, Honey Eyed Revenge, urgently needed an opening act for the west coast leg of their upcoming tour. This opportunity took Lost Checkers out to LA for the first time, marking their first performances outside the New York and New Jersey area. With almost no time to rehearse, they opened ten shows over the course of two weeks for Honey Eyed, but they were a mess. Being scheduled last minute and lacking any notoriety, the guys were not given much support, both in terms of their travel arrangements and their set. They had technical errors every night and often made fools of themselves on stage, but they had fun, embracing the chaos with enthusiasm. For some reason, thankfully, people liked them. Videos of their stage antics and Malcolm’s vocals went viral, and people around the country wanted a chance to see them.
Riding on the wave of growing popularity, The Roadmap To Your Heart tour was planned in just two and a half months. Operating with a modest budget, which covered only a van and decent hotel accommodations, they scheduled twenty shows, mostly in the North East. The venues ranged from small clubs and bars to music halls and theaters, with audience sizes varying from 500 to nearly 2,000 people. The tour had kicked off in Nashville on a Monday night, just days after Malcolm’s 21st birthday. He had spent the day at White Rabbit Records Headquarters in Los Angeles, in and out of meetings and rehearsals, preparing for his band's first official tour, a culmination of all of their hard work, and luck, over the last few years.
Malcolm pulled an eyeliner pencil from his backpack and caught his reflection in the tinted window of the van. He noticed Bennett watching him from behind. “You know, I was thinking,” Malcolm spoke as he quickly, and pretty skillfully, in his opinion, outlined his eyes in black with his poor excuse for a mirror, “we should write more tonight.”
Bennett chuckled softly, exhaling a cloud from his pen. “Yeah, we should. We were kind of on a roll last night. Three new songs, I think?”
“At least three,” Malcolm said. “Well, three ideas. We’ll get there though.” He tilted his head to get a better look at himself, then paused for a second before smudging the eyeliner with his knuckles. Satisfied with this look, he sat back and turned to his friend. “It might be a late one, though,” he remarked. “Supposed to be a big crowd tonight.”
Bennett pushed himself off the floor of the van. “You know I’m up for whatever.” He hopped out the back door, his feet landing lightly on the asphalt. He stretched, raising his arms above his head. “I can never fucking sleep, anyway.”
“You sure can sleep when it’s your turn to drive,” Malcolm teased with a grin.
“Shut up,” Bennett scoffed. He watched as Malcolm dug around in the various backpacks that were scattered around the van, which was way too messy considering the fact that they had only gotten it five days ago. “There’s a bar inside, you know,” Bennett said, his eyebrows raised as Malcolm found what he was looking for - a handle of Smirnoff vodka. It was a ritual for the band to take a shot or pass a bottle around just before going out on stage, a bit of a superstitious habit that they all took very seriously.
Malcolm sat down on the edge of the van, his legs dangling out the back door. “So? We can do one now.” He uncapped the bottle and took a quick swig, wincing as he handed it to Bennett.
Rolling his eyes, Bennett accepted the bottle and sipped. The alcohol burned, but it did always help wake him up before a show. “Fuck,” he breathed, shaking his head clear.
“You ready?” Malcolm asked, taking the bottle back from him and slipping it into the bag it had been stashed in.
Bennett nodded, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie. Malcolm bounced off the back of the van and shut the doors behind him. He clapped Bennett on the shoulder and draped an arm around him as they headed back towards the Cobra Lounge together.