The band took a drastic turn, and we welcomed a new guitarist with open arms. The professionalism he brought to the group elevated us as a band, and we were performance-ready in no time. We booked a show at Wicked Willy’s, a dive bar in downtown New York City, and practiced intensely before show time. Taking a break from Long Island shows gave my crowd an opportunity to experience our hard work and dedication, and I sipped my drink in awe of every familiar face that walked in the door. Sat between two acts, our setup time and delivery had to be immaculate. This was no longer the comfortable experience we had grown accustomed to at larger venues. This was raw New York City at its best. We gather by the bar and collectively take a shot before making our way to the elevated platform they would call a stage. I see Christian and Eddie. I see my brother and cousin. The woman I was seeing, walking around the venue cringingly introducing herself as the “lead singer’s girlfriend”. The view allowed for the luxury of real-time surveillance, but I block out the world, and the set begins. As we cruise through popular tunes, I feel my voice warming up. “Make Yourself” was on our set list, and the patented scream let out by Brandon Boyd on the record had only been achieved once in practice. As the song approaches its climax, I control my breathing and let out a bellow that erupts the crowd. The “pop”, as it’s called, filled me with the energy of 6 infinity stones. I contain my disbelief in pulling it off, and we finalize the set.
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