Alice woke up in her bed feeling pressure on her chest, her heart pounding up in her throat.
She calmed down quickly, but the frightening images from her nightmare were still raging inside her head and refused to fade away anytime soon.
She grabbed the notebook she kept under her pillow and immediately started scribbling down a few song lyric ideas.
She always did this when she had a bad dream, and it usually helped her move past it so she could start the day.
This time, she wrote about fire, ash, and clouds of black smoke. The song was almost finished already—she had even come up with some riffs—and she couldn't wait to show it to the others at band practice.
Her alarm went off. It was time to crawl out of bed.
She dragged herself into their small kitchen and, yawning, began making sandwiches.
Not long after, her sister appeared in a bunny-patterned pajama, rubbing her eyes, wishing her good morning, then started packing her textbooks into her bag.
— Why don't you do this in the evening? Then you wouldn't have to pack half-asleep, you dummy.
— And why don't you make the sandwiches in the evening?
— Because, my princess, we practiced late last night. Oh, I didn't wake you, did I? I tried to sneak in quietly.
— I was awake. — she said more softly.
— You were awake? That late?
— I couldn't sleep.
The knife trembled in Alice's hand for a moment.
— Dad… You couldn't sleep because of Dad, right?
Her sister didn't answer. She just stared ahead a bit too quietly while sitting at the table, sipping her cocoa.
Alice placed the wrapped sandwiches down in front of her—slightly rougher than necessary—then stormed off.
Loud arguing erupted from their father's room. Alice was really angry, shouting and calling her father all kinds of names.
Lucy, as usual, covered her ears. She didn't like listening to arguments and didn't want to hear it.
Her sister returned and ordered her to start getting dressed, or she'd end up being late for school.
— Why do you keep defending him? — Alice asked, a bit angrily.
— I just… don't want you to yell at him. I don't like it…
Alice's anger vanished as soon as she looked at her little sister's trembling lips. She gently stroked the top of her head and apologized.
— Listen, next time just call me, okay? That's why I put the practice room's phone number on the fridge.
Lucy nodded.
— Now put that mug in the sink and head to school before you're late.
— We live next to the school. I could never be late.
— Oh, that doesn't mean anything. I was late all the time.
— Is that why you work at Burger Emperor?
— Hey! — she laughed. — That was mean, you little brat! That earns you a tickle attack.
— Hey, no! I was just joking!
Alice tickled her little sister thoroughly, and they both laughed. The morning, as always, started half cheerfully and quickly made the nightmares fade away.
***
Alice was a few minutes late, something her boss didn't appreciate at all.
The big, balding man with thick forearms stood by the locker room, waiting for Alice to finally appear in uniform.
— You're late. — he remarked, leaning against the wall.
— I know, I know, but if you hold me up, I'll just start working even later.
Alice walked over to the fryers and began unloading the fries from the bag.
Her boss followed her—he wasn't done yet.
— I told you to take out those piercings and drop that dark makeup already. You're scaring off customers.
— Oh, I think I'm doing the opposite. You should've seen yesterday's tips.
— And about your hair…
— My hair too now? Is it shaved too much, too long? Or because it's black?
— My main problem is that you're not wearing a hairnet. — he handed one to her. — Put it on and get to work. You're staying fifteen minutes late today for being late.
With that, the boss left and went back to his office. Alice stuck out her tongue—and flipped him off.
— I wouldn't do that if I were you. If he checks the recordings, you might end up with an extra shift. — said her coworker, a young, lanky, pale guy.
— Why would he even check the footage?
The guy leaned closer to whisper in Alice's ear.
— I don't know… maybe because someone's been regularly snacking on the food.
— Really? — Alice popped a fry into her mouth and smiled. — I wonder who that asshole could be.
***
Near the end of her shift, Alice was taking out the trash when she noticed that her boss had changed the schedule.
According to the board in the hallway, she was supposed to work on Saturday as well—even though she had specifically asked months ago to have that one day off.
Furious, she dropped the trash bags on the ground, causing one of them to rip open and spill something out. She cursed loudly.
Her coworker immediately appeared beside her, holding a mop.
— Leave it, I'll clean it up. I'm staying overtime anyway.
— Thanks. That bastard changed the schedule! — she pointed at the board.
— Oh. — the guy adjusted his glasses. — Yeah, I see it. I think it's because of Denise. She's not available on the weekend.
— Are you serious? I asked for this one damn day months ago.
— Well, maybe if your cleavage were as deep as Denise's then— — he laughed, but quickly stopped when he saw Alice's angry expression. — Sorry… you know what she's like, she can beg anything out of him.
— It's my sister's birthday… I already bought everything. I can't disappoint her.
The guy ran a hand through his greasy hair and didn't overthink it—he decided to help.
— Look, I need the overtime anyway. If you want, I can come in instead of you.
— You'd really do that? — her eyes lit up. — Won't eight days in a row be too much?
Alice stared straight at him, which made him a bit flustered—he found her very pretty.
— Sure… it's fine. You should be with your sister on Saturday.
Alice leaned in and kissed his cheek.
— I owe you one.
The guy touched his face. He blushed slightly from the kiss, but fortunately, Alice didn't see it—she was already heading back out with the trash bags.
After throwing out the garbage, she decided to take a short cigarette break.
She sat on the ground, leaned against the wall, lit up, and closed her eyes.
She exhaled the smoke and drifted somewhere else in her mind—to a stage she had always longed for.
The audience couldn't wait for her to step up to the microphone, while her fingers were already clinging to the thick strings of her bass guitar.
Euphoria washed over her, the lights enchanting her.
Her longing was interrupted by a black cat that appeared out of nowhere at her feet, meowing at her, clearly craving some tasty bites.
Alice stroked the cat's head, then pulled out a slice of meat and placed it on the ground for it. The animal purred contentedly and eagerly devoured the treat.
She stood up, exhaled the last bit of smoke, put out the cigarette, then walked back to finally finish her shift.
***
Everyone was already present in the rehearsal room, waiting only for Alice, who had just arrived.
Their practice space was a relatively small, cramped room on the ground floor of a multi-story commercial building, with walls covered in egg cartons.
The drum kit took up half the room, the amplifiers the rest, so they didn't even bother trying to squeeze in chairs or anything remotely comfortable.
They didn't mind at all because of the low rent—they just huddled together and made do.
Alice greeted the others as they tuned their instruments, then took out her bass guitar.
Their guitarist — a dark-haired guy in a leather jacket, his hair hanging long — took a sip of beer from a can after finishing tuning.
The drummer, a pink-haired girl in a white tank top, was adjusting her stool.
The lead guitarist, a tall, bearded guy with shorter hair, stepped up next to Alice and handed her a can of beer.
— Thanks. — Alice opened it and took a sip.
— How was work?
— Shit. But check this out. — she pulled out her notebook and showed him the lyrics she had finished that morning in bed. — I did it. The song's done.
The guy took the notebook and read it carefully. He was already fingering the right notes on his guitar, imagining the sound—it really clicked for him.
— This is fucking great! I say we start with this.
— Seriously?
— Yeah. Hey, Cornel, take a look. — he said, showing the song to the guitarist. — Well? It's cool, right?
— Yeah, this is really cool. Let's play it!
— Alice, start it and we'll follow.
— Okay guys. Pinky, will you count us in?
The girl at the drums nodded, clicked her drumsticks together, and everyone got ready.
Alice started playing the song, and the others joined in one by one.
It came together quickly—energetic, heavy, a real killer track.
When Alice began singing the lyrics, memories suddenly crashed over her—memories from her nightmare.
She saw a winter night. Snow on rooftops and trees, darkness in the sky.
Her arm hurt—it was clearly broken, barely movable.
She was walking along a snowy road, flames roaring behind her from an overturned car, a hand stretching out from it. She heard a scream, crackling fire, sirens.
She finished the song, then apologized to the others and walked out of the rehearsal room.
With trembling hands, she pulled a cigarette from her back pocket.
The lead guitarist lit it for her with an old, worn Zippo.
— You okay?
— Sorry, Justin, it's just… I don't know what's wrong with me lately. We can continue in a minute.
— Hey, no problem. Smoke that one—or two if you need to.
Justin lit one for himself and leaned against the wall.
They heard the phone ring inside, and someone picked it up immediately.
After a short conversation, the guitarist and the drummer stepped out of the room with wide smiles.
— What is it? Who called? — Justin asked.
— You won't believe it. — Cornel said. — We got the slot!
— What? Really?
— Yeah! The owner just called. One of the bands can't make it, and he liked our demo, so we were the first ones he thought of. If they hear this new song, we might even get more offers.
— Holy shit… that's fucking awesome!
Alice was thrilled too—her hands stopped trembling. The news was too good to think about anything else.
— That's a serious venue. They really asked for us?
— Yeah, we'll be the second act, right before Sixty Wires. What did I tell you? I said I'd handle it.
— Hats off, dear Cornel, you pulled this off. — Justin said. — First round's on me!
— Oh no, guys, then I won't get home before midnight. — Alice remarked.
— Oh come on, Alice, we deserve this much. Can't refuse an offer like that—I'll cover the second round too.
— I wouldn't refuse that. — Cornel said.
— Me neither! — Pinky added.
— Fine, fine, but first let's finish rehearsal, you idiots.
— Yes, ma'am, Boss Lady!
***
After rehearsal, the band ended up at a nearby dive bar to celebrate their very first gig getting closer.
As promised, Justin paid for the first two rounds, so eight pints of beer were brought to their table on a tray.
The mood was great—until a familiar figure appeared at the bar: their former bass player and Pinky's ex.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a shaved head. He wore a denim jacket and steel-toed boots.
The moment he spotted them, he walked straight over, never taking his eyes off Pinky, which made her visibly uncomfortable.
— Ah, the band! — he sat down among them, right next to Pinky, and put his arm around her. — Good to see you again.
Pinky pulled away and moved to another seat.
— Good to see you too, Rex. — Justin said.
— You know, I took it a bit personally when you kicked me out and put a guitar in Alice's hands even though we barely rehearsed together twice. Any chance you'd take me back? Then Alice could just sing again.
— Man, after Pinky broke up with you, you tried to smash her drum kit. There's no way in hell we'd take you back.
— Yeah, okay, but I regret it, I swear. I handle things way more calmly now—inner tension's gone and all that.
— She said no. — Alice snapped coldly. — Get lost.
The guy and Alice stared each other down for a long moment. In the end, Alice convinced him to leave with the help of a small pocketknife, poking him under the table in the thigh.
— Jesus… and I'm the one who needs anger management? You're the one who needs a doctor, Alice. You're a fucking crazy bitch. — he stood up and stormed off.
Once he finally left, they could relax again.
— Thanks, Alice. I owe you one. — Pinky said, hiding beside Cornel.
Alice just nodded, slipped the knife back into her pocket, and took a sip of her beer.
***
The drinking wrapped up around midnight, when the bar closed.
Cornel staggered a bit and grabbed onto Justin, ready to walk home together.
Pinky went with them since they lived in roughly the same direction—and she still had a lingering fear her ex might show up in one of the darker streets.
Alice said goodbye to them and headed home alone.
She lit a cigarette as she walked, thinking about how their first real gig might go.
This could be the launchpad she'd always dreamed of—a milestone in the band's history, a step toward a better life.
Her primary goal was to take her little sister in. She wanted to get away from their father at all costs, but that required a lot of money.
She turned down a darker street where several streetlights were broken. That's when she ran into Pinky's ex again—clearly very drunk.
— Well look who it is. Isn't that you, Alice?
Alice stopped, exhaled smoke, and stared at him with a cold, indifferent gaze.
— What's with that look again? I don't get why you're always so hostile toward me.
— You scared Pinky.
— Oh come on, you know that girl—she's scared of her own shadow. I didn't want trouble, for fuck's sake!
— Then let me pass. I don't have time to chat with you.
— Sure, go ahead.
He stepped aside, and Alice continued on, her boots echoing against the concrete.
Just as she expected, he didn't let it go and tried to hit her, attacking from behind like a coward.
Alice stayed calm. She'd never been afraid of brainless nobodies like him, no matter how big they were.
She dodged the punch and kicked his leg out from under him. He fell flat on his back immediately, thanks to how drunk he was.
His shaved head hit the ground hard. He couldn't even move.
Alice leaned in to check whether he was seriously injured. From what she could tell, he was fine—just too drunk.
She was lucky. If he'd attacked her sober, she'd probably be the one lying on the cold concrete.
She left him there and headed home.
At the end of the street, there was a phone booth. She stepped inside, called an ambulance, gave them the address, then walked away.
Maybe a stomach pump would knock some sense into that idiot, she thought.
***
She finally got home around one in the morning, completely exhausted.
She quietly slipped into the bathroom, took off her clothes, and brushed her teeth.
When she was done, she stepped into the shower, which she badly needed—she stank of beer and cigarettes.
She stepped out, changed into pajamas, and headed toward her room.
She peeked into Lucy's room. Her sister was fast asleep, hugging a teddy bear.
It was hard not to step inside. She would've loved to stroke her little head, but she couldn't wake her.
She didn't even look into their father's room—she just pushed the door further closed. The stench was unbearable: spilled beer, tobacco, vomit.
Finally, she climbed into bed and fell asleep immediately.