Battle of the Bands 2: Part 1

Battle of the Bands 2
Part 1


With steady hands, you slip the blue satin jacket over your white tank top and begin buttoning it closed. All of the intricate detail, such as the silver tassel shoulder pads and the pink rope connecting the right shoulder of the jacket's front, are all there. Frankly, you marvel in its designer's patience to have recreated such a famed jacket, in your size and everything. She even had the notion to style it a bit more fitting to a woman's body so it didn't droop down your waist unattractively.

You fiercely scrutinize yourself in the mirror and smooth out the royal blue satin. The matching pants fit snugly about your middle, and you can't help but grin at your reflection. If it weren't for your feminine features, curvy waist, and curling brown hair, you would've mistaken the person in the mirror to be none other than Paul McCartney himself.

That thought, though distinctively positive, sends a chill down your spine all the way to your tailbone. Your stomach lurches. Paul McCartney… I met him.

And, in fact, you did. About a year ago, you and your previous band, the Green Giants, met up with the Beatles in a competition called Battle of the Bands. Your band eventually became good friends of the Fab Four and even rescued them from a frightening group of men called the Wild Boys. In addition to all that, you even fell in love with all four Beatles, and they with you. Well, that's what you assumed, because whenever you had alone time with one, all they did was kiss you. But, it seems, they've forgotten you existed. Since you all last saw each other, there hasn't been any contact whatsoever. No letters, no emails… nothing. You're beginning to wonder if they've found other girls in England that are more appealing to them than you and Eva, your best friend.

A year… I can't believe it's been a year. A whole entire year since I last gazed into George's eyes. Held Ringo's hand. Seen John's smile. Kissed Paul. It's not fair. I miss them. How come my fairy tale had to end so suddenly?

Suddenly, the door behind you opens and a slender, brown haired girl in a yellow satin outfit almost identical to yours appears. The only difference is that her hair is pulled back into a thin ponytail, and a bright yellow flower clip is hooked on a tight brown lock.

"Man, aren't these costumes a bit ostentatious?" she asks you while you reach over to the dresser and pick up your blue flower clip. "Adele really outdid herself this time, don't you think?" The hotel room key is clutched in her palm, and she stuffs it into her pocket hastily.

"She and Ethan outdid themselves," you correct her. She shuts the door behind her and comes to glance at herself in the mirror. "Same with the Abbey Road costumes. Did you see the detailing on Elliot's denim shirt? It looks exactly like George's on the album cover."

"These aren't too shabby, either," Eva motions to the Sgt. Pepper jacket you're both donning.

You grin. "Yeah. And no, I don't think they're too ostentatious, Mrs. Spelling Bee."

Eva laughs. "So you can tell that all I've done since we left Fool's Gold is watch spelling bees and stuff myself with Orville Redenbacher's Ultimate Butter popcorn?" She begins counting on her fingers. "Let's see… there was 'ostentatious,' 'idiosyncratic,' 'ostracize…'"

She's still standing near the mirror, and while she was talking, you slowly moved over to the door. The time on the digital clock had caught your attention. It's 11:47 AM, and the Sergeant Hearts that Dream are set to open the Beatles festival out on the Lawn at 12. You hope Dominick and Elliot are already dressed and out on the stage, setting all the equipment up. That's one of the reasons you took your time dressing, because you hate carrying all the guitars and junk up to the stage and having to wire all the speakers. You're not tech-savvy in the slightest. I mean, that's what Dominick and Elliot are for!

"Uh, Eva?" you prompt. "Unless you want us to ostentatiously ostracize you from the Sergeant Hearts that Dream in an idiosyncratic manner, you better get your butt moving. We better get our butts moving," you add quickly.

She dips her head in agreement. "Yeah, I guess so. We don't want Adele coming up and realizing we're still here—"

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Oh great. Who is it this time?

Someone's forceful fist is pounded violently against your door. Both you and Eva jump. Instantly, Eva dives across her bed in a James Bond sort of fashion and retrieves her acoustic guitar from its case. She holds it up above her head like a baseball bat and slinks towards the door.

"Who is it?" she calls, getting ready to swing.

From the other side of the door, there comes an exasperated sigh. "It's me, you bozos. Adele! Now will you please let me in?"

You nudge Eva aside and unlock the door. A thin woman with sharp short hair and wide green eyes steps in, carrying a clipboard. She scans you and Eva over with her eyes and dips her head in approval at the costumes.

"Good, you're dressed."

Eva carefully lays her guitar back on the bed. "Yes, we just got dressed, and now we're on our way to the stage—"

"Oh no." Adele snatches the orange trim of Eva's jacket to prevent her from leaving. "We have some things to go over first." When Eva grumbles in protest, Adele gives her a look. "It's in your contract, might I add?"

You lean your arm on the wall. "What do we need to get over? I thought everything was finished yesterday?"

Adele turns the clipboard around and shows you one of the papers on it. You squint to read the tiny font.



The Sergeant Hearts that Dream must agree to remain silent about their meeting with The Beatles throughout the entirety of Abbey Road on the River.



Immediately, you yank the paper from the clipboard and bring it close to your face to read the rest. Eva hurries to read over your shoulder. You see her jaw drop from the corner of your eye.

"What sort of rubbish is this?" she exclaims angrily, and you remark in your head that because she's watched so many Beatles videos and listened to so many Beatles interviews that she's started speaking like them. "I don't remember ever agreeing that we wouldn't speak about Battle of the Bands at all!"

Adele takes back the paper from your grip. "As you two were informed, the Battle of the Bands competition has been terminated as of three months ago. Your signatures on the contract compel you to abide by its statements. No mentioning of the competition is to be tolerated while you are here at Abbey Road on the River, or on the festival grounds. Dominick and Elliot have already agreed to the terms. Now it's your turn."

"But what's this about not speaking about the Beatles?" you inquire fervently. "They're our friends, and we have every right to—"

Adele cuts you off. "Now, Riley, no matter how strong your relationship with each Beatle was, you must forget them. They're international superstars, Ri'. And you're a simple singer in a Beatles tribute band." She pats your shoulder. "As of this moment, they've probably already found new girls to flirt with… who they might consider to be better than you."

"Not my Johnny…" you hear Eva mutter darkly. "My Johnny would never—"

You hold up a hand to stop her. "Eva, just… be quiet for a moment, okay?" You redirect your attention to Adele. "We can't even say that we've met the Beatles?"

"As of three months ago, no, you cannot. In fact…" she pulls a black pen from her left jeans pocket and hands it to you, "as of three months ago, the Beatles never competed in any Battle of the Bands competition." Her gaze is thick and foul. "Especially not with any such band as the Sergeant Hearts that Dream."

"Stupid rules… stupid contract…" Eva gripes, pounding her fist against the bed sheets. "I bet the Beatles would have a FIT if they knew what their contract is doing to us…"

"Ahem…" Adele motions to the contract, then at the pen in your hand. "Signature, please. Both of you, Eva." Eva winces when Adele snaps her name. "I will not have my band break the law over something so simply dealt with. Sign, Riley."

You bite your lip and tighten your jaw. Images of Paul, Ringo, John and George flash before your eyes… images of them laughing… protecting you from the Wild Boys… it's all so vividly planted in your mind. Will you ever see them again? Do they know how much you and Eva pine for them? For their smiles, kisses and hugs? For their heavy, gorgeous British accents ringing in your ears? And, like Eva was so kind to mention, do they realize what their contract is forcing you to do?

Your fingers shake as you sign your name. Once you finish, Adele shoves the paper and pen at Eva. Like you expected, she is highly reluctant at first. She glances at you and mouths four words that are obviously on her mind. 'John, Paul, Ringo, George.' You nod and shut your eyes, unable to watch her sign.

"There." Eva thrusts the paper and pen back at Adele's hands. "It's done."

Adele smiles. "Good. Now… if you two don't hurry, you'll be late for your first performance." Her finger taps against her silver Fossil watch. "It's 11:51." Her hand flutters and she turns around, opening the door. "Thanks for the cooperation, girls." And she's gone.

In seconds, Eva explodes into tears. You put your arm around her shoulder like the good friend you are and try to comfort her, but the reality has already hit. You were in love, but frankly, that doesn't matter to anyone. You'll never see the Beatles again.

"A y-year!" she wails. "We haven't seen them in a year! And John promised he write—"

"They're not allowed to write to us," you explain miserably. "The contract they signed with the Battle of the Bands competition states clearly that if anything were to happen to the contest, their record of participating in it would be cleared. I read it on that sheet before she made us sign it."

"W-why'd she have to th-throw it on us here at Abbey Road on the River?" Eva wants to know, peering at the mirror across the room and wiping away the smears of liner under her eyes. "Why not before?"

"Think, Eva. This is the biggest Beatles tribute festival in the world." You give her a second to wrap it up in her head. "I guess the Beatles' manager believes that if it got out that they associated with a failed concert competition, it would ruin their image."

"It's a stupid rule," she states plainly. She mops up her tears with her sleeve.

"I agree, Eva." Your eyes cast over to the window, which looks out over the festival. The sun is nearing its peak in the sky.

Carefully, you both trek back to the mirror and fix your hair and makeup. Then, checking the clock on the wall (11:54), the two of you lock your hotel room door and make your way outside to the festival. Sunlight pours down from the mildly cloudy sky. You look around and see all the tents set up on the Belvedere lawn, advertising carnival food such as hot dogs and fried dough. People carrying musical equipment, guitars and speakers swarm around, all hustling to reach their destination before the festival opens. There's a large stage set up in front of the park's fountain, and huge Teleprompters nearby cycle through pictures of the Beatles.

Then, as the two of you continue towards the lawn, you pass by more staff members; even a few bands hasten past you. They smile at and complement your costumes, then vanish behind you. Eva giggles when a John Lennon look-alike winks at her behind his round spectacles, and you roll your eyes.

Finally you reach the lawn. There's a tent set up in the middle of the grass where all the speaker equipment and such is contained. Then you see it, standing majestically against the sunlight: the stage, where your group is to open the festival. A pale man with a Beatle-like haircut is standing near the edge of the stage, coughing and testing the microphones. He's holding a beautifully crafted Hofner bass guitar in his right hand and absentmindedly strumming it. Behind him, a fiercely-shaven blonde-haired man sits behind a shiny set of Ludwig drums. He's spinning the drumsticks within his fingers, oblivious that you and Eva are approaching. And, you notice, both are wearing the other two Sgt. Pepper costumes: the pink one and the reddish orange one.

"I think we made a mistake, Riley!" Elliot calls out to you, pointing to his outfit. "Shouldn't I be wearing the blue one? And Eva should have this one 'cause she's the lead guitarist!"

You clamber up the stairs to the stage and head to your front microphone. "Well, Eva refused to wear any other costume but John's. So we got all messed up." Behind you, Eva finds her Traditional Les Paul guitar in the hands of one of the AROTR staff ("Thank you very much, but I'll take it from here.").

"We've only got, like, three minutes to rehearse," Dominick complains, tapping the cymbals to his left. "We could've had more time, but some people were a little late."

"We would've been here earlier," Eva counters, "but Adele stormed our room and made us sign a stupid contract." She raises an eyebrow. "Apparently you both have already signed it…"

Elliot slaps his forehead. "That ridiculous contract that says the stuff about you-know-what?" You glare at him, and he winces apologetically. "I'm sorry, Riley. We had to sign it! Adele said that if we didn't, we'd be breaking the law!"

"We didn't want to get the band into trouble," Dominick explains quickly, also looking remorseful. "And we were going to warn you before she rammed it on you, so you could fight a good fight against her."

A young man dressed in a white cotton t-shirt, skinny blue jeans and a stylish straw hat comes up to the stage and leans on the edge. He peers up at you behind dark aviators that send a shudder up your spine. The Wild Boys…

Oh great. I had JUST started getting those crazy cowboy men out of my mind.

Alpha still gives me nightmares.

Heck, even Pinkers gives me nightmares.

Paul… George… Ringo… John… I miss them.

"Hey, are you the Sergeant Hearts that Dream?" the man asks in a friendly-ish voice that sounds forced.

"Yep, that's us," you reply.

"Okay, okay. Good." He spins around and looks out at the tent full of the music equipment. He cups his hand around his mouth. "Hey, Frankie! Can we get a sound check here?"

"Sure thing, Devin!" a plump man in the tent calls back. "Get the band to test their microphones, first!"

After you all test your equipment and such, Frankie, the "mechanical guru" inside the tent, gives a thumbs-up. Everything is ready for the show.

The sun is at its highest. It's 11:59, and a few staff members rush to the gates. You take a deep breath and smile proudly at each member of your band. It seems like only yesterday that you were the Green Giants, with Ryder and Maya at your side.

About three weeks after Battle of the Bands, the two of them declared that they would be leaving the band. It caused a huge problem within the last of you, for Ryder had been the bass guitarist and no one else really knew how to play bass. Thankfully, Elliot's a fast learner. He spent hours practicing on a beat-up old guitar in his basement and surprised you on your 26th birthday with a rendition of "No Reply" (your favorite Beatles tune) with Eva and Dominick. The band was up and running again, even without Maya's piano playing and Ryder's mad bass-playing skills. That's when you changed your name from the Green Giants to the Sergeant Hearts that Dream, a Beatles tribute band from Fort Worth, Texas. And that is also where you and your band evolved into more mature, highly skilled musicians.

"It's time!" Devin leaps onto the stage and is immediately handed his own microphone. "Gates are open, the stage is set, and we're moving!" He wipes his brow. "Took a lot to get here, but we're off and running like a horse in the Kentucky Derby." Eva sniggers at his rather cheesy comparison, but it doesn't seem like he notices. "All right, Sergeant Hearts. I'll introduce you and then you start performing."

People are already flocking to sit on the grass, lawn-chairs in tow. You see numerous Beatles t-shirts and apparel on almost everyone. People have sunglasses, hats, and water bottles with fans: everything that they'll need to survive the supposedly sweltering temperature rumored for later on. You see Dominick roll his shoulders and begin murmuring to himself to calm his nerves. Elliot's fingers slide up and down the neck of the Hofner, randomly pressing out notes. Eva's staring down at her costume; her eyes are glossy with a sudden attack of misery.

She still misses them like heck, and so do I. I wish I could see them again, but I know it will never happen…

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen!" Devin yells into his mic, startling you from any more woeful thoughts. "How is everyone today?"

Jeez, I need to stop going out like that.

Can I just accept that I'll never see them again?

Well, this IS the second Battle of the Bands… it OBVIOUSLY has SOME Beatles in it…

Get back to the story!

The crowd of gathered people cheer as Devin parades across the stage, waving his hands wildly in the air. He chuckles (again, very unconvincing) and speaks again. "You all ready to hear some live Beatles music?"

The roaring of the crowd grows significantly louder at the mention of the word "Beatles."

Hmm… I wonder why?

BECAUSE THEY'RE SO AMAZING, THAT'S WHY! ☺

"Our first performance today will be by these fine men and women behind me, also dressed so familiarly."

Okay, so maybe he's not all bad. He called us fine.

He steps back and motions towards us. Dominick raises his drumsticks.

"Please give a warm welcome to the Sergeant Hearts that Dream, all the way from Fort Worth, Texas!" he cries, and people stand from their lawn chairs to applaud. Some avid Beatles fans even inch towards a small section of grass set aside for dancing.

When the clapping and whooping has died down some, and Devin has dismounted the stage area, you grab your microphone and yank it from its stand. Eva nods to you, and you bring the mic to your mouth.

John… Paul… Ringo… George… this one's for you!

"One, two, three, FOUR!"

And the Beatles song "I Saw Her Standing There" began, with the striking of the guitars and the intoxicating beat of the drums settling in behind your spirited voice.


So? Did you expect this part to end like this? WILL the Beatles show up soon? If ever? What's Adele's problem? If you can't already tell, she's your band manager. So yeah, you have to put up with her a lot in the story ☺! Tune in soon for the next installment of Battle of the Bands 2!