Free Dark Muse by David Simms Page B

Remember,
Chelsea will be out there watching.”
    Why did she have to say that? To set him off?
To derail his anxiety? Did she even have an inkling that he wanted her ? He might never have her. Why did so many people think
he preferred Chelsea, a high maintenance socialite who would never
stoop to dating one of “his” kind? He’d need a miracle bigger than
the crossroads to help him in that area.
    They hit the stage and blasted through their
three song audition: “Sweet Emotion,” “Travelin’ Band,” and
“Walkin’ The Plank.”
    Not surprisingly, he ambled through the set
with his mind in another world, literally. When Otis crashed down
on the cymbals to end their original song, the guitarist barely
noticed.
    “And that was ‘The Accidental Muses,’” one of
the judges said.
    People rarely mentioned the band’s name and
they hardly ever used the second word. It had two meanings; one was
musical and one was demeaning, in a self-deprecating way. The first
meaning was obvious. The second came from music theory, where a
note out of a given key was added, usually a flat or sharp. It
added character.
    “You guys truly are accidents up
there,” Bentley said. He made sure to connect visually with Muddy.
“If I’d spawned one of you, I’d probably keel over and die,
too.”
    Son of a…
    Muddy finally understood what “seeing red”
meant at that moment. “I’ll kill you, you stuck up—”
    “Ooh,” blubbered the smarmy prepster, waving
his finger. “A threat. They might lock you up for that,
Puddles.”
    Corey had to hold Muddy back. Everybody knew
he wouldn’t stop until blood covered the floor, even if it was his
own. Then Leo grabbed Corey, as they all knew that if he took a
swing, the golden boy’s father would have the big boy from the bad
side of town expelled on some false charges.
    “Edgar!” Poe’s voice cut through the throng
of people and noise. That was all she had to say. The anger raged
through him, but the magic in that voice bathed him in peaceful
waves. “Edgar!” she repeated. “Don’t. We’ll be kicked out of the
battle.”
    “Right,” he grumbled. “Let me go, Corey.”
    When Bentley realized Muddy wasn’t going to
race to his demise, his armored pythons uncoiled and Bentley
slipped free, just like airplay from those reality show one-hit
wonders butchering someone else’s one-hit wonder.
    Rage nearly punched through the barrier of
restraint. Muddy could tell Corey was about to blow as well. Both
nearly bolted for the idiot, but instead, he ripped free of Corey’s
grasp. Rather, Corey likely let him go, sensing his friend wouldn’t
do anything so stupid. Not to someone else, at least. Nearly
tripping over the tangles of cords and cases, the guitarist must
have kicked a dozen random items. Back in the recesses of his head,
Muddy knew he would regret most of the afternoon, but still would
want to take a swing at that rich momma’s boy.
    Kicking open the gym door, he tore into a
sprint and didn’t stop running until he hit that same street which
changed his life the previous night. The boy stood breathless,
wishing he had the slightest athletic ability. Despite that fact,
he’d managed to run about two miles without a hitch. The tears in
his eyes almost blinded him from seeing where his subconscious
landed him.
    Muddy stood in front of Silver Eye Watkins’
red house. The old man would be waiting inside. Something within
him assured him that the blues man knew his new protégé would be
coming, and knew much more about the days to come than Muddy ever
would.
    * * * *
    “Took you long enough.”
    “It’s called school,” Muddy said, pushing the
door wide, nearly tripping over a gray cat. “They kinda get annoyed
if you don’t go. Wasn’t this fur ball a dog last time I came
here?”
    Silver Eye waved the boy off. “Dog, cat—who
cares? They come and go, just like my women, my friends and my
family. At least when I put out food, I know they’ll be
back.” He