Black Star and Blue Moon, solely Blue, finish their demo with his performance of jazz on the piano and a one-man band playing dubstep. Different instruments are simultaneously played on an electric guitar with controllable gadgets modded onto the instrument. The infamous wobble’s “magically” produced through a bluetooth ring on his thumb manipulating the strings.
From the start the duo covered songs in different styles. Pop as Visual Kei and rock, classic as alternative, metal as jazz, and so on. As to be expected, Black Star dominated the stage. She’s the lead performer after all.
Different groups of people were there to judge. From popstars to metal musicians to elderlies. Old people who’d never heard of BB! Blue could hear one complain how cold the room is. It’s all concrete walls and concrete floor. The only readily available room to set up all of their equipment; stereos, computers, one piano, electric guitars, and drum kit. Besides, the room’s got a nice reverb.
There’s comments of ‘there’s too much equipment’, ‘it’s not real music if it’s done electronically’, etc. There are good comments, too, but Blue can’t help himself overhearing negative feedback, even if it’s minor and outweighed by positivity.
Black Star calls to him to pack everything up, so he does. The roadies will help load equipment back into their truck.
He thinks to himself it’s not fake music. A lot of it’s prerecorded when there’s only two of them. If they don’t have the instrument, it’s done electronically. The reason for this was to demonstrate how versatile music is.
Finishing tidying up, Blue wraps up the cables. Incidentally binding an ankle, he stumbles and embraces his signature J Bass. He curses to himself. Anything but the bass! Anything but the bass!!
Catching his fall, Blue lands on his side. The left hand stings a bunch…The bass!
Hopping onto his feet, he examines his beloved instrument. All is well except for a snapped string. Checking his palm, a diagonal line over fingers dyes itself red. It’s as bad as a papercut!! Why do those hurt so much? But a broken string overpowers pain. If the bass broke, it may well be not worth living. A bassless world is a cruel world.
Feeling a presence nearby, the blond slowly turns to face a girl with pink locks. Another silent curse to himself. Did, did he trip near her?
“My show. How was the bad?” Erm. “How was the show? My bad?” Close enough.
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