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Matelotage is an agreement among pairs of sailors agreeing to share their income and inherit their partner’s property after death. It sounds a lot like marriage. And that’s precisely what 12-year-old Stede Bonnet thought when he first read about matelotage.
Logically, one would assume that this would spark an interest in sailing or boats. For Stede, this started his very special interest in weddings. This made him the best fake wedding planner on the playground—a prodigy, one might say. And he totally didn’t get beat up for this.
But his joy of matching centerpieces and tablecloths kept him going. Even when his wedding was happening, he made it his duty to make the party feel like love was everywhere, to cover up the fact that there was no love between the groom and the bride.
Only a few years later, Lighthouse: Wedding Services opened!
And now, 24 years later, it’s on the verge of shutting down.
The company has made significant cutbacks for the last two years, such as losing a warehouse and moving to a smaller shop in a different part of downtown, with instead of little boutiques beside them, it was now all bars. This would be alright if it were not for a particular bar called Jackie’s, whose in-house band practiced all day hours, making it almost impossible to converse with potential clients (if any came around, that is).
All that was left of the crew were the most loyal and desperate not to see Stede cry. And plus, It was too late to leave; Stede had already declared them family (and not in the ‘company family’ way, but more so inviting them to parties for every holiday known to man with personalized gifts and homemade meals). This found family was the only thing keeping the company afloat.
Monday, March 3rd, 11:00 a.m.
Stede stood outside the shop. He looked at himself in the dark glass windows; despite having more free time, he looked tired. Deep bags had developed under his eyes from the lack of sleep. That was caused by his new living quarters. To save money, Stede moved into the apartment above the shop. That meant, on top of hearing the band practice all day, he got to listen to them perform at night.
His sleep deprivation may be keeping him from getting his beauty sleep, but that doesn’t mean he does not look beautiful. Stede still took the time to style his blonde curls and put on the most over-the-top suit. He was still neat and clean, except for the yellow stain on his shirt. He scrunched his nose, licked his thumb, and rubbed at the stain.
“He knows we can see him, right?” Ask Pete, who was meant to be in the back wrapping candles but was instead flirting with a receptionist. Lucius didn’t look up; he was too preoccupied with applying his final coat of nail polish as he held a phone between his shoulder and his ear.
Lucius Spring had been with the company receptionist (personal assistant, life coach, wedding security) for 6 years. He started working part-time at the gig just to prove to the court that he was a responsible member of society after some unfavorable shoplifting charges.
“Does it make a difference?” Lucius responded as he finished the last stroke. Then, raising his hand, he reveals his bright red nails. “How do they look, babe?”
Pete remains silent, still watching Stede, who is now inspecting his teeth.
The store bell rang, and Stede entered with a now-fake broad smile. “Good morning, crew!”
“Morning, Cap!” Pete said, trying to get in good grace, so perhaps Stede will overlook him avoiding work. Pete was the employee for whom no one knew why or how he still had a job. - and yes, the crew calls Stede Captain; the company goes all in on the nautical theme. (to the point where people often get the company mixed up with boating insurance). Stede acknowledged Lucius and Pete with a nod and started walking to his office.
“Your ex-wife called,” Lucius called out across the room.
Stede sighs and turns around, maintaining his cheerful expression. “Lucius, we’ve gone through this before. You can simply say, Mary.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t object when I used to say ‘your wife called,’ so what’s the difference?”
All Stede could think was ‘You Bastard,’ yet he replied, “What did she want?”
“You are aware that she’s remarrying.” Lucius cocked his brow.
“Yes, what does that have to do with me?” Suddenly, Stede understood, “No.”
“Well, I already told her yes, sooooo.”
“Well, call her back and tell her nooooo.”
Stede turned around, thinking that would be the end of the conversation.
“We can’t do that, Stede. We need this.”
“No, we don’t,” Stede answered, relieved that his back was turned so no one could see his anxious expression.
“Plus, I heard Mary received a sizable divorce settlement.”
Stede turns around again, “You bastard.”
“He’s right, perhaps planning your ex-wife’s wedding. Might dispel some of the superstition.” Roach stated as he walked in from the back. Roach was the chef (and now the on-site medic).
“What superstitions?” Stede remarked, fully aware of what Roach meant. Roach opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Olu (the accountant) walked in and interrupted him.
“Cap, planning your ex-wife... Mary’s wedding could demonstrate to people that you and she have no ill will and that the divorce was not the result of failure but rather a miscommunication.”
Miscommunication? That’s one way to describe discovering you’re gay in your forties and your wife cheating on you with her art teacher.
“I simply do not understand what you mean; our recent difficulties in getting customers are because of…inflation.”
Olu gave Stede a sympathetic smile.
“No, it’s definitely because of the divorce,” Roach said, finally getting to speak.
“It’s true! According to science, 50% of all married couples end up divorcing because a divorcee planned the wedding.” Frenchie explained, walking into the room with Wee John by his side. Frenchie’s official title was music choreographer, which means if there is no live band, he steps in as DJ. On the other hand, Wee John was a pyrotechnic. (also doubling as DJ hype man)
“That’s not true!” Jim yelled at Frenchie, stopping next to Olu. Jim came about a month after Olu joined. They were quiet at first but became very vocal, especially when choosing the new location for the shop. They are excellent stunt choreographers; all day and sometimes into the night, Jim could be heard practicing by hitting the wall repeatedly.
“Ey, she probably cursed Cap,” Button said. “Nothing is more powerful than a scorn witch.” The room jumped. No one knew how Buttons got a job at Lighthouse. Not even Stede; he had no recollection of hiring him. He was just there at the company’s start with a Ph.D. in hospitality.
“Mary is not a witch.” Said Stede, not dismissing the curse theory.
“She is an artist, so she is a witch.”
“No.”
“Certainly.”
Stede gives up. It’s pointless to argue. Mostly because Button was usually right.
“Ms. Mary would never do that,” Swede said, standing in the doorway to the back room. “Why would anyone curse their own husband?” Swede looks like not much was going on in his head because there wasn’t, but boy, could he sing.
Everyone looked at the Swede in silence.
“Anywayyy… Stede, we need this unless… of course…you come out. Lucius said, ignoring Swede.
“Come out? What do you mean? I’m already out.” Stede didn’t keep that he was gay a secret, but he didn’t go around telling people, either.
“Stede doesn’t have to tell anyone anything,” Jim said.
“Oh, come on! We can prove that the divorce was not malicious, and alsooo, straight women adore having a gay man plan their wedding!
“Shut up! Or I locked you in the freezer box again!”
“Cap said you can’t do that anymore!”
That’s when chaos broke out. Each member of the crew joined in the yelling about what was best for the company. What would be best for Stede? Once again, discussions about Stede’s life took place without his involvement.
“Maybe we have no business because you all stand around when you should be working!” Stede practically screams. Everyone just stares at him. It was not unusual for Stede to have an outburst. The outburst was usually due to stress but rarely towards the crew. Before anyone could say anything, Stede left his room to his office and closed his door. He went to the desk and sat in his chair with a huff.
Stede moved his hand to rub his forehead but stopped when he noticed a notification from his email. Lucius had sent him a list of Mary’s demands. “Maybe the crew was right; doing the wedding might help. Mary may not be my wife anymore, but she is still my friend. And she wants my help.” Stede thought, and a little bit of a genuine smile spread across his face. He’ll have to tell the crew they’re doing the wedding and apologize for his immature attitude; surely, one (If not all of them) will burst through the door at any moment. Stede looked at the email content. He read over a request for the band. Stede admits that his knowledge of bands is vast, but,
“Who the hell is Queen Anne Revenge?”
Stede opened another tab and went straight into typing on a search bar. ‘Queen Anne Revenge,’ a website link pops up, making his safeguard light the link bright red. Stede clicked on it anyway because it was the only website mentioning a band in the description.
Loud music started blasting from the computer speakers, and Stede immediately started hitting the volume down key.
‘Well, someone didn’t hire a graphic designer ‘(which sounds as bitchy in his head as if he said it out loud). If not for the updated performance list, one could think the website was abandoned due to the outdated web design. The band seemed to perform mainly at the ‘Jackie’s’ bar.
“Is that type of music that Mary enjoys?” The music was not per se bad; it just wasn’t Stede’s type of thing. Bebop and all that.
Stede clicked back to the main page and scrolled down. He saw a banner saying ‘Meet The Crew’. Stede chuckled at this, seeing that the band used of a nautical theme. There is a picture of each of the band members. Next to the photos is a description of what they play and a random quote.
Ivan: Bass: “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the road less traveled and ended up in New Jersey. bad idea”
Fang: Drummer: “You can both Hug Pugs and do drugs.”
Izzy: Singer: “I’m not fucking doing this.”
Blackbeard: Guitar: “You Know who I am”
All the band members were pictured except the lead guitarist, Blackbeard. His photo was replaced by a fake spinning loading placeholder. Stede wondered what made Blackbeard so legendary that his face was hidden. His little ‘bio’ didn’t do much to help gather information, yet Stede was intrigued by his mystery. He wonders what it would be like to be Blackbeard for a day, to be so confident. Stede sat there momentarily contemplating a different him, then rolled his eyes. “Stede, you are overthinking about something that’s a practical joke,”
He scrolled down a little more. A ‘Booked Now’ was in bright crimson, followed by a phone number. There was a soft knock at his door. “Come in,” Stede said, trying to ensure his voice was kind.
It was Olu, opening the door slowly. He wasn’t the only one, of course. The entire crew was behind him. They all went into the office one by one. Olu cleared his throat, but before he could speak, Stede interrupted, “I’m sorry, I yelled at all of you. That is not how a superior should act; most importantly, that’s not how a friend should act.”
“Stede, We’re sorry. Pressuring you into doing Mary’s wedding. We should know that Mary and the divorce are sensitive to you.” Olu said, having each word come precise. It made Stede smile, knowing that his crew had devised an apology.
“Lucius has something particularly he would like to say,” Jim said, eyeing Lucius.
“I’m sorry that I crossed a line. Your personal life and who you are annnnd who gets to know about it is your choice…even tho the business is failingggg.” He whispered that last part, but it was still loud enough that everyone could hear. Jim turned their head fully to glare at him, Lucius shallow. “I am really sorry.”, Lucius said, sounding more genuine this time.
“Thank you, all.” Stede said, "And Lucius, you’re right. The business is failing. I should have been more open about the troubles, for it is not just my livelihood on the line but all of yours. That’s why I have decided that we will do Mary’s wedding. “
Cheers came from the crew.
“Hello?”
“Hello, my name is Stede Bonnet.”
“Okay? And what do you want, jackass? We’re in the middle of practice.”
“Oh, sorry, your website gave no schedule to call, but I digress. My name is Stede Bonnet. I am with Lighthouse Wedding Services. We would love to book your band for a wedding performance.”
“Yea, fuck no.”
“What?”
“I said no, goodbye.”
“Wait! You’re not gonna hear me out?”
“No, Why would I? Queen Anne Revenge doesn’t do weddings.”
“If it’s the issue of money, I assure you we have no problem paying you for your worth.”
“Did you not hear me, you idiot? We don’t do weddings!”
“My client is very persistent on you performing.”
“Well, I guess that’s too fucking bad.”
“Please, could we at least make some type of compromise?”
“No”
*line ends*
Edward Teach was smoking in the bar’s basement and peering through a small vent facing the street. Every day around this time, employees from the Wedding Planning Company next door went out for lunch—and that’s when Ed got to see him. Ed’s favorite part of the day. It’s the only thing he looks forward to.
Ed’s life has recently become a never-ending circle. Every day, he gets up, drinks, practices, smokes, performs, drinks, and then sleeps. Younger Ed thought it was great; every night was a party. He used to tell himself that he should enjoy himself now because it would all be over. It appears, however, that it will never end. There is no longer any pleasure. The previous album was released three years ago. And the crowds were dwindling as fans began to lose hope. They are about to be evicted and wrecked.
Ed secretly wishes it will happen. He had lost interest in music; he had no muse, thrill, or passion for it. He was now merely treading water.
Izzy came walking down the stairs, muttering. Ed pays only half attention as Izzy begins talking about some “prick” on the phone. Izzy wasn’t the boss, but he was the self-appointed manager. Ensuring the band’s image, exceptionally Edward’s, was preserved. Izzy was very particular about where and when Queen Anne’s Revenge performed.
He is also highly critical of everyone and never allows himself to relax. Ed knows deep down that Izzy’s behavior is his fault; the number of critical events and even people Ed forced Izzy to give up, all so he could get what he wanted. It made their friendship become more like a dependency. Izzy was there to ensure Ed was still alive the next day, and Ed was there to give Izzy direction.
“.....and I told them that Queen Anne’s Revenge does not perform at weddings,” Izzy complained.
“Wedding?” Ed asked, not turning around.
“Were you not listening?!”
Ed rolled his eyes. “Just repeat what you said, mate.”
“Fine,” Izzy said, clearly not fine, sucking in a gust of air.
“The cliff notes version, Izzy!”
Izzy made an Irritating look but carried on.
“Some ponce-sounding Wedding planner asked if we would perform at some wedding; I told him no because we are not som…”
A ponce who is a wedding planner? He couldn’t be talking about...then the person he was thinking about emerged. The curly-haired blonde who works at a wedding shop and dresses like someone Izzy would have a problem with immediately. Could it be you? The blonde appears agitated, ranting about something or... someone.
“Yep, it’s him,” Ed said this out loud.
“What?” Izzy asked and tried to move forward to see what Ed was looking at, but Ed turned around quickly and blocked his view.
“What was his name?”
“I don’t know,” Izzy said in a defensive tone. Ed didn’t believe him, but he wasn’t going to push.
“Did you at least get the company name?” Ed asks, trying for any information
“Umm…something Lighthouse.”
“We’re doing the Wedding.” Ed looked behind him, ensuring the man was gone, before sitting on a wooden storage crate.
“Edward, no!”
“Izzy, we are one unsold ticket away from being kicked out. We need a way to bring it revenue.”
“Oh, but Edward isn’t another way? Isn’t becoming a wedding performer. Just screams washed-ups.?”
“I don’t care. I enjoy eating, and you prefer not to have roommates.” That should emphasize the point, not that it matters. The band does whatever Ed says. And if he says he wants to do the wedding, they will. They are not required to know the actual reason.
“I want you to go to their business tomorrow and apologize…”
“Apologize!!”
“Apologize. And invite them to the performance this Friday with no charge.”
“No charge? Didn’t you say..?”
“Why are you questioning me?”
Ed had an intimidating stare fixed on Izzy’s for a few long minutes. Neither spoke.
Tuesday, March 4th, 10:46am
“I know, this is disappointing news, Mary. But the man was quite clear and, if I may add, very rude about being unable to perform…No! I can’t ‘just go over there? Because I am pretty sure everyone in that band has a criminal record. My co-worker, Pete, used to work for them, and he says they’re very dangerous! I know everyone in my crew has been to Jail, but they don’t wear scary leather! Hey, that’s a low blow. Mary? Mary? Hellooo?”
Stede took a sharp breath and muttered, ‘She is the mother of your children’ before putting the phone back on the handset. He sat down in a chair, quickly going on the computer to search for the next possible band.
List of Rock/Punk? Bands in my area…
Queen Anne Revenge
Jolly Roger
Dancing Molly Dance
Stede quickly highlights and searches for the 2nd result on the list. It took him to the band’s website, which was much better organized than the last website. Clearly done by a professional web designer with working links for merch and booking information. This provided Stede with a phone number and, better yet, a business email.
From: [email protected]
Dear Jolly Roger Team,
My name is Stede Bonnet; I am the owner of LightHouse Wedding Services. One of my clients would LOVE (You were their first choice!) to have you perform at their wedding. If interested, please email me at the email above or call the office at 555-555-555! Hours: 5 a.m. to 5 p.m. Can’t wait to hear from you!
-Stede Bonnet
Wedding Planner, Father, Husband
“Let us guide you to the wedding of your dreams.”
He copied the paragraph before hitting send. He clicks back to the first tab, then highlights and searches for the 3rd result on the list. Stede was about to start “writing” his 2nd email when there was a knock at his door. “Come in.”
“There’s someone here to see you,” Lucius said, head peeking around the door.
“If it’s Mary, can you please ensure she’s calm before coming in? I’d rather not be insulted by how I dress again.”
“Oh no. This is much more entertaining!” He said, finely opening the door fully.
There was a short man. ( look at a photo of Con O’Neil and describe.)
“Hello.” was the only thing the man said. Stede Immediately recognized the voice and name.
“Hello, Iggy. You must be the lovely person I spoke with the other day.”
The other man made a face like he was biting on his tongue. “I have come to apologize.” Izzy hisss, eyes looking everywhere else but Stede’s face. “My boss is willing to accept your proposal for the wedding performance. You can come Friday night to Jackie’s free of charge so you two can work out the finer details.”
“I am so sorry, but we’ve already made alternate arrangements.” He replied back, standing up, keeping a shit-eating grin on his face the whole time. Stede nodded at Lucius, who was obviously eavesdropping in the doorway. “So you can tell your boss to go Suck. Eggs. in Hell!”
“You will regret that!”
“I don’t think I will.”
Thursday, March 5th. 8:36 p.m.
“YOU DID WHAT?!?” Mary yells from across the dinner table.
The weekly family dinner hosted at the house of Mary Allamby and Doug…Doug…it doesn’t really matter. A mandatory group meal after Louis began fighting Stede in the school pick-up line because he didn’t know who he was.
“Ooooo, Mommy is mad at Daddy,” Alma said, peas still in her mouth. She might be the eldest, but she was still a child.
“I believe his name is Steve,” Louis informed his sister sitting beside him.
“Children.” Doug’s soft tone a clear contrast to his fiance’s current one.
“You had greatness in the palm of your hand, and you just let it slip through!”
“Typical behavior from you,” Alma said, shoving another spoonful of peas in her mouth while staring directly into her dad’s eyes.
“Alma, do not talk to your father like that. But it’s true, typical behavior from you.”
“Is it typical for you to have this behavior early in the Wedding planning?” The moment it left Stede’s mouth, he knew he made a mistake.
“Behavior like what? You got to have your wedding when we got married; now it’s time for me to have my wedding…”
“Our wedding”, Doug chimed in
“...Our wedding of my dreams.”
“But Mary…”
“Either you do it or find someone who will.”
Friday, March 6th, 10:56pm
“What do you mean Stede Bonnet is already in there? I can tell you there is no other Stede Bonnet in the world; even my wife wouldn’t let me name one of the kids after me.” The real Stede Bonnet claims to the bouncer outside the doors of Jackie’s. “I can show you my ID.”
“Doesn’t matter. I can’t do anything once a name has been crossed off a list.”
“But I need to see Blackbeard!” Stede said a little louder than it needed to be.
“You and every other Fangirly, Now pay up or leave.”
“Okay, fine. But I’m not happy about this, which will affect my Yelp review. How much?” Stede reaches into one of his inside pockets and pulls out a money clip with the engraving; ‘You’re Lucky, You’re My Only Son - You’re Father.’
“25 Dollars.”
“25 Dollars?!”
“Yeah, I gave you 5 dollars off for having the balls to admit your wife didn’t let you name your child.”
Stede begrudgingly gave the man the money.
“Come on in.”
“Don’t you need to see my ID?”
“Don’t kid yourself, Sugarcube.”
The bar was dark and loud, not just with the sound of the opening band halfway through their set that inched its way into every corner of the building. But also just the amount of people boozing, having a few laughs. Almost all of them dressed head to toe in black leather. Stede immediately felt like he was back in grade school, standing out among the crowd like a sore thumb. He was wearing his version of a nighttime outfit: a long dress shirt with white ruffle ends, turquoise blue flare trousers that paired nicely with the only a piece of leather on him, pristine white cowboy boots. Stede stared at his feet. “white cowboy boots, who wears cowboy boots to a rock concert. They’re not going to take me seriously. They’re going to laugh at me. They’re going to call me names. They’re going to call me…’
“Baby Bonnet!”
Stede turned around, eyes wide. This place really was turning into grade school. The person who turned Stede’s mediocre rich kid life into hell was here. Nigel Badminton was appropriately dressed with a leather jacket and skinny faux leather pants. Nigel was co-owner of the Badminton Brothers real estate. The number-one-rated real estate company in the state.
Putting on a faux smile, “Nigel! What are you doing here!?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, Baby Bonnet? But if you must know, I’m here on business. Jackie’s looking to expand.”
“Expand, you say?” This news actually makes Stede happy; perhaps now he could finally get some sleep if Jackie’s moved.
Nigel returned the smile. “Heard your business is failing.”
“Oh, where would you hear that?”
“You know, just rumorss”
“Well, it’s not true! I’m actually here for business too; I’m booking Queen Anne Revenge for one of my many, many clients.” Stede did his best to keep eye contact with the man who still causes his nightmares.
Nigel laughed
‘Why is he laughing?’
“Good luck with that! That band is notorious for being hard to book. It was good talking to you, Baby Bonnet, really cheers me up. Can’t wait to see you get carried out in a body bag when Blackbeard eats you alive!” With that last encouraging statement, Nigel walked away.
“I need a drink.”
“What kind of wine do you have, good sir?” Stede asked the bartender, who was currently cleaning a glass.
“We don’t sell wine.”
“Well, what do you sell?”
“We have this thing called blood shots.”
“And what is in these blood shots?”
The bartender shrugged his shoulders.
“Alright then, give me 12 oz of this bloodshot in a glass, please.”
“Coming right up”
The person next to stede began to speak in a very put-on, seductive voice, “Well, sounds like someone’s looking to get fucked up?”
“Lucius?!”
Lucius raises his sunglasses, “Captain! You’re here!”
“Lucius, or should I say Mr. Bonnet?”
“Hey, I thought you would keep your word this time.”
The bartender placed the drink on the bar. Stede immediately grabbed the glass and tipped his head back.
“Maybe don’t drink it all at… once.” The drink was gone before Lucius could finish the warning.
“Actually, that wasn’t that bad.”
“Thank God it’s Friday.”
“Indeed, thank God, I’m going to need to be in her good graces if I’m going to be able to close this deal.”
“You’ll be fine, Stede, just be yourself.”
“Be yourself! Lucius, look around; everyone’s dressed the same; being myself is the last thing I should do!”
“I think you’re overthinking it.”
“That’s easy for you to say! I never fit in. I don’t fit into this community. I don’t fit into any community. And Blackbeard will see that, and he’ll eat me alive. Look at me! I’m wearing cowboy boots, and when I walk into a room, I flare my hands like I have a big announcement. Who does that?”
Stedes demonstrated his flaring, which caused him to accidentally hit the person behind him.
“OW FUCK MY EYE!”
“Oh shit,” Stede reached for the napkins on the bar but knocked into Lucius’ drink, knocking it down, splattering all over him.
“Stede, calm down, it’s okay,” he hears a now muffled voice of Lucius.
“I can’t do this.” was the last thing he said before running to what he presumed was the toilets and locking himself in one of the stalls.
The public toilet was small, and the floor was dirty with clear plastic cups and ‘don’t sever’ paper wristbands. Stede backed himself into one of the corners of the stall, taking regrettable deep breaths as he tried his best to calm himself down.
“I can do this,” Stede mutters, “It’s just my entire life on the line if I don’t book them.” Stede looked at his watch; the show was about to begin. Stede thought he should just stay in the stall until everything was over. Until he knows no one is watching, seeing how out of place he is, seeing how much he doesn’t belong. Stede feels as if he is about to cry when he hears a knock on the door.
“You okay in there, mate?”
Stede cracked the door and saw a man smiling at him. He had dark tan skin and long, black curly hair, some tied back with what looked like a red ribbon. It was paired with a long black and white beard.
“You’re really handsome.”
“Thank you,” The man said
Stede stares at the man’s face and whispers, “Do you work, Blackbeard?”
“Do I work for Blackbeard?” The man pauses, then whispers back to Stede. “Yeah, I reckon I do work for Blackbeard?”
“Why are you whispering?”
“Why are you?”
Stede stood up and opened the door fully. He could now see that the man was wearing all black. Leather jacket pair with tight leather pair of trousers (not that stede notice)
“I’m Ed.” He put out his hand, and Stede grabbed it
“I’m Stede.”
Ed smiled at Stede. “You can let go of my hand now.”
“Oh, sorry.” Stede quickly put his hands on his side.
“I’ll forgive you if you tell me why you’re in here crying.”
“Ummm… I’m here to see Blackbeard. And my entire livelihood depends on whether or not I can book him. And I just feel every step I’m taking is the wrong one. I feel so out of place. I mean, my goodness, I’m wearing cowboy boots! And…"
“Hey, slow down. You are just a little overwhelmed. This all seems new to you ( you are also very drunk). You’re going to be okay.”
“I’m gonna be okay?”
“Yep! And plus, I have on good authority that Blackbeard loves cowboy boots.”
“Thank you, Ed.”
“Are you feeling better?”
“Yes.”
Ed began taking off his jacket.
“What are you doing?”
“Here, wear my jacket. It will help you blend in. Plus, leather jackets on leather pants are just overkill.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Say, I’ll return it to you when I see you after the show.”
“I’ll return it to you when I see you after the show.”
Stede put his arms through the jacket. It was a little too big but in a comfy, oversized way.
“Speaking about the show, I got to finish setting up. I better see you out there, Stede.” And like that, Ed was out the door.
“There you are, Stede!” Lucius said, peeking through the door seconds after Ed left. At least Stede thought it was just seconds; time was starting to get away from him.
“Are you good? Where did you get the jacket? Never mind that the show’s about to start!”
Like a cue, an announcement came from the speakers:
“Ladies and gentlemen, and everyone in between and outside the scene! It’s what you all have been waiting for! Make some noise! QUEEN! ANNE! REVENGEEEE!”
Lucius grabbed Stede’s hand, practically pulling him outside.
Everything was loud, very loud. Stede felt himself vibrate from his feet to his head. He tried to get a good look at the stage, moving closer. Even pushing someone aside. So he could be in the crowd. He was so close that he had to look up at the performers. He looked at each of them, stopping his eyes at the guitarist. His hair was down. Black and gray strands hung over his face. Stede could still see his eyes; they were the same kind of eyes that, just a moment ago, talked to him out of a panic attack. He looked down at his hands, The ends of the jacket ever so slightly covering Stede’s hands. He’s wearing Blackbeard’s jacket, oh god, he’s wearing Blackbeard’s jacket. He looked back up at the stage. He could swear that Ed was looking right at him.
Then there was blackness.
Saturday, March 7th, 12:03am
Stede’s eyes open up to a light shining in his eyes. On impulse, he covered them.
“What happened?” He eventually got out. A question that was answered by a man sitting on a small box next to the couch the Stede was lying on.
“You got a little starstruck; it happens to the best of us.” It was Ed. Blackbeard? Blackbeard/Ed? Handsome savior man?
“Thank you, you know you don’t look too bad yourself.”
Stede groaned
“Yeah, that’s why bloodshots are usually limited to two a night. And you gunned around 12 in one go. You absolute madman.”
Stede set up and looked around the room. He seemed to be in some type of storage backroom for instruments. All four members of the band, plus Lucius, were in the room with him. Lucius was too preoccupied chatting up the drummer to notice that Stede had finally woken up. He felt like something burning a hole into the back of his head; he looked behind him and saw Izzy leaning against the wall, staring directly at him.
“You ruin our performance. We had to cut it short; we barely got to play. And worst of all, we had to give free tickets for the next performance.”
“Don’t mind him. He’s always bitter.” Ed said, gaining Stede’s attention again. They looked at each other.
Stede finally broke the silence between them. “I-I- I should get going.” He turned his head and began to stand up the best he could on his feet. Ed stood up, helping him with balance.
“Wait. Don’t you need to speak to Blackbeard?”
“I’m good,” Stede said, trying to take a step but falling on his ass back on the couch. Stede made a frustrating face that resembled a child getting mad that they didn’t know how to walk yet. This made Ed let out a small laugh.
“How about speaking to Ed?”
Stede looked at Ed and nodded.
Even drunk, Stede’s business speech was ingrained into his mind. He could say it in his sleep, and he has.
“My name is Stede Bonnet; I am the owner and employee of Lighthouse:
Wedding Services. I am here on behalf of one of my clients, Mary Allamby; she would be delighted if you could perform at her wedding on March 26th.”
“This March 26th?”
“Oh God, no! Next year! I know that’s still short notice, which is just the cherry on top of the millions of reasons you must have for not performing at the wedding! And I completely understand your decline! I mean, I’m wearing cowboy boots, for fuck sake. And I am being extremely unprofessional, not just from earlier but right now, too! And…"
“Queen Anne’s Revenge wants to perform at the wedding.”
“What?”
“I, Blackbeard, the captain of Queen Anne Revenge, want to perform at the wedding of Mary Allamby on March 26th of next year.”
“Really!? That Wonderful! I will send over the paperwork as soon as possible.” Stede was about to stand up again.
“Hold your horses there, Stede. I want to do the wedding, but I don’t know if I can work with someone so… flaky.”
“Flaky?”
“Yea, mate, You. Not even a full day after one inconvenience, you immediately contact another band. That’s flaky.”
Stede wanted to say that the inconvenience was being yelled at and told no, but he needed them. And Ed knew that. He was playing hardball, and Stede wouldn’t back down from the plate.
“Alright.” He took one of his business cards and pen from his inside pocket and started writing a number on the back. “This is my personal cell. If you have any questions, just call or text.”
Stede handed him the business card, and Ed’s eyes lit up like he just received the golden ticket.
Ed’s eyes flickered back at Stede. “I look forward to possibly working with you, Mr Bonnet.”
“I look forward to possibly working with you, Ed.”