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The lights went up and Gorgug scoured the audience, looking for a sign of his girlfriend, Bev (short for Bevel), but there was no sign of the crystal genasi anywhere. His shoulders sank, but he held out hope that maybe she was just waiting backstage. He took one last bow next to his bandmates and headed behind the curtains, but the only one waiting backstage was Ayda. Dejected, he watched as Fig leapt into Ayda’s arms and was spun around. He walked past them, mumbling something about a good performance to Fig, and went back to the green room where he washed his face and changed into a less-sweaty shirt. He then pulled out his crystal and hit the picture for Bev, which was a selfie she took of them together. The call rang and rang before going to voicemail.
“Hey,” he said shakily, before clearing his throat. “It’s Gorgug. I missed you at the concert tonight; is everything okay? Call me back ASAP.” He hung up and stared at the picture. It was from their first date a year ago after she had approached him after a Fig and the Cig Figs concert. Gorgug had recognized her from several shows, and on a whim Gorgug had agreed to go out for a coffee with her the next day. She proved to be fun and engaging, and a big fan of the band. At the end of their coffee date she had leaned over him as he sat in his chair and took the selfie, her head over his shoulder, both of them smiling warmly.
But recently he hadn’t been feeling that warmth; her texts had been short and abrupt, calls had gone unanswered, and now she wasn't even at the concert after promising to be there. He hoped that she was alright, but some deep, terrible darkness within him that hoped that she had a good reason for missing the concert also doubted that she did. He rummaged around in his duffle bag for his keys before storming off to the HangVan and climbing in. He peeled off, the screech of his tires echoing through the city streets as he made his way to the city limits of Dune Fort before heading out into the sandy desert surrounding it. He rolled down the windows and cranked up the radio as he sped down the lone highway leading out of the city.
“Love without anxiety / It's like love, except you're free”
The radio played an upbeat song and Gorgug began to tap his fingers on the wheel along to the music. He crested a large sand dune and the city lights disappeared behind him, leaving only the distant line of streetlights that lined the two-lane highway.
“And that would be it for me / My heart's another absentee / I'm there for no one, it's not like anyone would give a damn”
He slammed his fist into the steering wheel, causing the horn to blare for the empty desert to hear. He continued driving until he crested a second dune and he pulled over and parked the van, cutting the engine. He kept the radio playing, letting the song fill the silence.
“But I'm trying to stick it to Freud / I'm lyin' low and I'm fillin' that void / With anything that I can show to prove I'm not a waste of space”
He pulled his crystal out of his pocket and began texting Bev when another text came in from Kristen.
<Gorgug? Have you seen Fantasy Instagram lately? Has Bev been hacked?>
<No?> he replied.
<You’d better check it out.>
Gorgug switched apps on his crystal, and pulled up Fantasy Instagram. There, on the ‘popular’ feed, was a picture of Bev in the lap of the lead singer of System of a Drow, Dirge Tankian. The drow was making out with her as she shoved a middle finger towards the camera. Rage burned within the pit of Gorgug’s stomach, but he kept it tempered. He called Bev again, but once more it went to voicemail.
“Bev? What the fuck is with the picture on Fantasy Instagram right now? Because it sure as hell looks like you’re making out with someone else. But you know what? Fuck it. If that’s what you’d rather do, I’m not going to stop you. Just know that we’re through. I hope he was worth it.” He hung up, feeling pretty stupid. Of course she thought he was worth it; he was the lead singer of a bigger band than Fig and the Cig Figs and she’d get much more clout dating him than Gorgug.
But that was fine. He didn’t need someone who just wanted to date for fame, no matter how much he had enjoyed his time with her. His rage boiled, desperate for an outlet, and he slammed his fist against the wheel again, the van horn calling out his despair.
“Hey there, Gorgug, what’s with the hubbub, bud?” came a lazy voice from the radio.
“Oh, Zaphriel. Sorry,” Gorgug mumbled, leaning his head on the wheel. “I’m just angry, that’s all.”
“Bummer to hear, dude. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not right now, no.”
“I hear ya. Sometimes you just gotta feel the emotion for a while before you’re ready to discuss stuff. That’s okay. Do you want some tunes?”
“I think I’m ready to rage, dude.”
“No problem. I got you covered, my man. Just go and let it out while I set the mood.”
Gorgug exited the van and automatically Zaphriel cranked the music to full blast so Gorgug could hear it outside.
“Your boundaries slit my veins / Your no thanks killed my family”
Gorgug let the rage fill him and spill out into his veins. He bellowed at the heavens and picked up a large rock from the ground. A few lizards scurried out from beneath, seeking out new cover. He hurled the rock at a nearby cactus and watched with satisfaction as the plant exploded.
“And when you asked for space / The space you made was outer space / Can you hear me screaming?”
He picked up a second nearby stone and hurled that one as well, watching it collide with another cactus. This time, however, the cactus didn’t explode and instead he watched as a small animal dropped out of the cactus and hit the ground. Immediately his rage was over and he ran over to the creature. There, on the ground, was a small owlet that had been recently residing in the cactus until a large rock destroyed its home. Gorgug knelt and gingerly picked up the small creature and held it close. It hooted mournfully as it tried to move its wing.
“I’m sorry, little guy,” he whispered to the owlet. “I let my anger get the better of me and I hurt you and ruined your home.”
He cast a Cure Wounds on the owl and carried it to the van.
“Zaph, cut the music,” he grumbled. “We’ve got a guest.”
“Oh, look at this little guy!” cooed the angel through the radio. “What happened?”
“I happened,” Gorgug said with a huff. “Let’s get this little guy to a vet. I healed its broken wing but I destroyed its home and if I leave it out in the wild, it’ll die.”
“Poor guy. I’ll turn the heater on for him,” said Zaphriel.
“Thanks.”
Gorgug turned the van back on and pulled back onto the highway, heading back to the city. Every few miles he would glance over at the passenger seat where he had bundled up the owlet with a hoodie he had found after rummaging around in the back of the van. It blinked at him, but made no noise or attempted to move.
Gorgug drove back to the city, and once he was back within the limits he had Zaphriel search the GPS for a veterinarian. When none came back as an all-night emergency, he drove to the nearest one and parked the van outside and decided to wait until they opened the next morning. He reclined the driver’s seat and closed his eyes.
“I guess I never thought of Bev as ‘the one,’ but I’ve only known her a year,” he mumbled. “We had fun together, you know? But now that I think about it, she always seemed more drawn to appearances than to personality. She always wanted to go out, to be seen, and she was always ready to share with others my achievements as if they were her own. I was just being used.”
“I’m sorry, my man,” consoled Zaphriel, and he put on some relaxing beach sounds.
“And yet I still feel like I’m the one who did something wrong,” continued Gorgug. “I feel like if I tried harder, if I was more interesting, I’d still have her, even though now that I truly know her I don’t want to date someone like that.” He sighed.
“There will be others, Gorgug. Just remember that. There are trillions of stars in the sky, and there’s one out there that’s shining brightly just for you. But it’s okay if you’re not ready to go searching for that star. You can just chill out on the beach for as long as you like. Zaphriel will be here to see you through it.”
“Thanks, man.” The gentle waves lapping on the shores of a silent beach played through the radio, and Gorgug eventually nodded off.
“Wakey-wakey, eggs and bakey,” sang Zaphriel, causing Gorgug to stir. His neck and back ached from sleeping in the driver’s seat all night long; he was getting too old to keep up the van life. He looked over at the hoodie bundled up in the passenger seat and saw the owlet sleeping in the middle of it. His hoodie was scratched up and covered in owl droppings, but he didn’t care. It was still alive.
“Someone just went into the vet’s office,” reported Zaphriel. “Thought you should know.”
“Thanks, Zaph,” said Gorgug, and he scooped up the hoodie and owlet and headed to the office.
He still had to wait another ten minutes before the vet opened, but once he got inside they were able to see to the owl immediately.
“I accidentally destroyed the little guy’s home last night,” Gorgug explained. “I healed its broken wing with magic, but it’s just a baby and has no home now. I couldn’t bear to leave it out in the desert all night with no protection.”
“I see. Well, thanks for bringing it in. We’ll do our best to rehome it, but it may not be able to go back to the wild.”
“Oh. Well, um, thank you,” he said, feeling extra guilty about that last part. “I’ll donate some extra money to help with the rehoming.”
“Thank you, that’s very generous of you.”
“It’s the least I could do. This is all my fault, anyway.”
He rubbed the fluffy owlet with a finger to say farewell to it; it nipped at his finger, which he thought was fair. At the checkout desk, he donated an extra ten GP on top of the vet fees before leaving. He heaved a sigh as he got back into the van; the day was just beginning but it already felt like he had gone through a lot.
“Where to, amigo?” asked Zaphriel.
“Back to the band,” he said. “We’re supposed to be heading out in a couple hours to our next show in Ashgrove. I’d better check in with everyone after disappearing last night.”
“Roger that.”
And so Gorgug drove back to the hotel that the band had been staying at. As he arrived, his crystal rang. It was Bev.
“You going to answer that?” asked Zaphriel.
“No, I don’t think I will,” said Gorgug, hitting a button and sending the call straight to voicemail.
A minute later the crystal rang again. And again. Then the texts started. They started out apologetic, but quickly became angry and accusatory.
<Gorgug baby, it’s not what it looks like>
<It didn’t mean anything. It was just a dare!>
<You know that you mean the world to me>
<Answer my calls>
<ANSWER ME>
<Maybe if you treated me right I wouldn’t have to do this>
<You’re just small fry in a two-bit band>
<tiny dick>
<you couldn’t keep me satisfied so I had to go find someone who could>
<go shove your stupid drumsticks up your asshole>
At that point Gorgug gave up and blocked her number and felt better for it as he shoved the crystal into his back pocket; out of sight, out of mind. He exited the van and headed towards the lobby where he had caught sight of the keyboardist for the band. He’d put Bev in the past like his other failed relationships and move on; he was good at that. But every time he heard an owl hoot, he’d think of her.