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songs with no errors.

Only one more song. I grin wide and open my arms out. To think I almost cut the chord on tonight’s show. I close my eyes as we begin our final song, "Waves."

I glance at the crowd’s solemn faces. All these people expect a great performance, but are they impressed? Do we live up to what has been circulating online?

Right before the chorus, I do a fancy guitar swing that almost smashes into Benji. He takes a step back to avoid the collision and misses a couple of notes. Eric jerks backward—though my guitar is far from him—and increases the tempo.

We’re out of sync.

With wild eyes, I burst into a guitar solo at the bridge, in hopes of distracting our audience. It is enough to sync our tempo back together.

Amber, who’s near the "stage", scratches her neck and tilts her head to the side.

As I enter the second to the last chorus, my voice betrays me: it cracks. This sends another wave of disorder into the beat. Not only are we out of sync, but my mishap has thrown the whole verse off.

There a few sour faces in the crowd. A couple of heads shaking. The frustration with our flat notes and tense stage presence is evident.

I knew it. They think we’re complete bullocks.

We struggle to transition back to the proper beat as we enter the last verse. My voice strains as I sing the last line. Eric bangs the drums a little too loud and Benji plucks hard, but we pull through the last ten seconds or so.

The crowd breaks into a polite applause but their faces are in a state of confusion. Maria takes the stage, cracks a joke to quell the tension, and tells the crowd that they’ll be passing a hat around.

My mates and I are silent as we dismantle our set-up. I avoid eye contact.

"Meeting. Now," Eric says in a low tone meant only for Benji and me.

The crowd unfolds into the post-show buzz, finally getting up and socialising with one another. After we fix our equipment, we move to a more secluded and private area of the rooftop.

"What happened out there?" Eric’s voice is high, but it sounds as if the question is directed to all of us. Not just me. "We were doing a great job until the last song and then—" His hands signal fireworks, or maybe an explosion.

"We’re not here to point fingers, Eric," Benji says. "What’s done is done, but we do have to talk about what happened in order to avoid something like this next time."

If Benji weren’t here, Eric and I would probably have a row.

"It’s my bloody fault," I say and look past them—out to the murky, starless sky. "I lost it."

"We all did at one point." Benji gives me a sympathetic look.

I glance at Eric, whose irritation transforms into disappointment. "Mate, your error caught us off-guard. Looks like we need to be alert and ready to make into a smooth recovery."

I nod and apologise, though my chest stays tight.

"What about this: when we jam, one of us will do something off, so that we can practice a smooth recovery," Benji suggests.

"We’ve got a day off tomorrow. Let’s start then," Eric agrees.

"Okay," I say, still feeling like a massive disappointment.

"Meeting adjourned," Eric says and claps his hands. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a lovely redhead over there smiling at me."

Benji pats my shoulder. "We can’t expect to have seamless gigs all the time. You have to admit we were overdue for something like this."

"Not funny," I say. After excusing myself, I walk off, passing people engrossed in their conversations. I spot Cassie at the other side of the rooftop and, as if sensing my gaze, she meets my eyes with concern. She motions towards me, but I shake my head. I need to be alone. She nods, as if she understands. Just in case, I fire up a quick message on my mobile.

Need to be alone for a bit. Meet you lot back at Maria’s.

I slither past the bodies, an attempt to hide in the crowd as I make my way to the rooftop door. My steps are fast as I gallop down the dim staircase. Once outside, the violent chill of the wind threatens. The buildings’ dark shadows engulf me.

I pull out my mobile. It lights the dark alley and allows me to connect my earphones. There's something about having the right soundtrack, especially during walks. Opting for the radio instead of my playlist, I tune in to my favourite station. Heavy guitars and a pounding bass line soundtrack my walk. I've no destination in mind, so I walk. I’ll figure out how to get back to Maria’s from wherever I end up.

I turn down a busier street with more commercial establishments—Waterstones, a supermarket, Boots, and a couple of restaurants. Not too far ahead, there’s a small patch of grass—a park—and I head in that direction. I wrinkle my nose, getting a whiff of beer whilst I pass the darker part of the sidewalk before turning to the park. I switch radio stations, craving for a song with a more haunting melody.

Inside the park, the lampposts cast an eerie glow. The place is deserted and rightfully so. It’s past midnight. I let out a frustrated sigh as memories of tonight invade the tranquility I hoped I’d find with my walk.

When I switch back to URadio, it's the familiar rhythm of guitars playing that catches my attention. I almost drop my mobile as I recognise the melody.

My mouth hangs open and I screech to a halt.

I’ve been through rocky roads, and crashing storms.

But if there’s one thing I’ve salvaged through my journey

It’s these lines: never give up on your dreams.

I gasp. A string of profanities exits my mouth. When I look up at the lamppost directly above me, I notice how it casts a bright glow. I no longer feel the menacing bite of the wind.

It’s quite unconventional that my own song

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