True Grave
Make The Wrong Things Right
- Joined
- Jun 30, 2010
- Location
- Where The Fight Takes Me
“Thank you and good night!” shouted Kurt Cedar, the lead singer of the band Trigger.
The crowd that had gathered at the Wilmington State Fair was going absolutely wild, excited from the concert put on by this hot new band. Lead guitarist Brandon Hargrave played a final, sustained note on his Fender Stratocaster, which was black with red tiger stripes on it as he smiled and waved to the crowd. Gina Harte, their bassist and the only female member of the band, played some solid bass notes to compliment Brandon’s final note. Drummer Rick Landry gingerly but quickly hit the snare drum, and then all sound stopped with his last quick strike of it. The band then put down their instruments and headed backstage to prepare to go on the road.
The four members of Trigger had all grown up in Fox Lake, Illinois, which was a small town not far from Chicago. They had been lifelong friends, sharing an interest in music and other things. When they were Freshmen in high school, they decided to form the band Trigger, which would play hard rock similar to music heard in the 1980’s. They had all proved to be very talented, and their success convinced them to try and go professional. Defying the odds, they were signed by a big Chicago label and began to make music professionally. Their music resonated with young and old alike, and their debut album, Pull the Trigger, went platinum in just a week’s time.
This popularity sparked a tour of the United States, where they played everything from arenas to state fairs. They had been on talk shows, and every music source in the United States was buzzing about this hot new band. Their success was largely attributed to the incredible versatility of Kurt’s voice, and also to the raw talent of Brandon, whose guitar almost seemed to be part of him. As a pretty woman fresh on the public scene, Gina had been offered modeling contracts, but had declined to focus on the music, not to mention the fact that she was shy and still getting used to all of the attention that had accompanied their meteoric rise to fame. Following their recent tour, they had just scheduled a world tour that would take them to over thirty countries in three month’s time. Before they left on this tour, however, they wanted to go back home to where it all started, relax, and play a concert in a triumphant homecoming.
For now, the four were excitedly talking and laughing among themselves. They each went to their own dressing room, where they chilled out while the roadies loaded the equipment onto their tour bus. Brandon leaned back in his chair and looked at himself in the mirror. His brown eyes were still sparkling from excitement, while his wavy black hair blew softly with the air conditioning. He had an athletic and muscular frame, and stood at an even six feet tall. Brandon was currently wearing white shoes, blue jeans, a black tank top, and black fingerless gloves, having forgone the black leather jacket due to the hotness of the stage lights.
Very soon, it was time to go and the whole crew piled into the bus. They were currently in Ohio, so it would not be a particularly long ride back to their home state. Brandon took out a bottle of Pepsi from the mini-fridge and took a deep slug of it, having still been thirsty from the concert. As the bus continued on into the night, the band talked off and on before they all fell asleep. After a couple days on the ride, they were soon pulling into Fox Lake, and Brandon smiled as he saw the familiar landmarks around him. The bus was soon parked near the back of a local ticket office, trying to be discreet so they would not be mobbed by local press.
Their manager, James Alden, who was a friendly-looking and slightly overweight man with red hair, disembarked from the bus to arrange the concert. The band would later be informed of the date and time, but for now, they were free to just head home. The four left the bus, and Brandon got his guitar out of the luggage compartment on it.
“I’ll see you guys later.”
After some hugs and handshakes, they each headed their separate ways back to their family homes. Fox Lake was small, so everything was pretty much within walking distance.
When Brandon arrived home, his parents and younger sister were happy and excited to see him. He smiled, realizing in that moment how much he had missed his family and home. While it had been great to see so many new places and practice his passion, home had always been where his heart was. After he had visited with them a bit, he went upstairs to his room and placed his guitar in a corner of his room. Brandon sat down at the computer in his room and logged into his Facebook account, which he had not been on in a while, and saw that it was chock full of messages, friend requests, and notifications from friends and fans alike. He chuckled and went about sending the word of their concert to local friends while also dealing with the flood of e-communication, imagining that his bandmates were having similar experiences.
The crowd that had gathered at the Wilmington State Fair was going absolutely wild, excited from the concert put on by this hot new band. Lead guitarist Brandon Hargrave played a final, sustained note on his Fender Stratocaster, which was black with red tiger stripes on it as he smiled and waved to the crowd. Gina Harte, their bassist and the only female member of the band, played some solid bass notes to compliment Brandon’s final note. Drummer Rick Landry gingerly but quickly hit the snare drum, and then all sound stopped with his last quick strike of it. The band then put down their instruments and headed backstage to prepare to go on the road.
The four members of Trigger had all grown up in Fox Lake, Illinois, which was a small town not far from Chicago. They had been lifelong friends, sharing an interest in music and other things. When they were Freshmen in high school, they decided to form the band Trigger, which would play hard rock similar to music heard in the 1980’s. They had all proved to be very talented, and their success convinced them to try and go professional. Defying the odds, they were signed by a big Chicago label and began to make music professionally. Their music resonated with young and old alike, and their debut album, Pull the Trigger, went platinum in just a week’s time.
This popularity sparked a tour of the United States, where they played everything from arenas to state fairs. They had been on talk shows, and every music source in the United States was buzzing about this hot new band. Their success was largely attributed to the incredible versatility of Kurt’s voice, and also to the raw talent of Brandon, whose guitar almost seemed to be part of him. As a pretty woman fresh on the public scene, Gina had been offered modeling contracts, but had declined to focus on the music, not to mention the fact that she was shy and still getting used to all of the attention that had accompanied their meteoric rise to fame. Following their recent tour, they had just scheduled a world tour that would take them to over thirty countries in three month’s time. Before they left on this tour, however, they wanted to go back home to where it all started, relax, and play a concert in a triumphant homecoming.
For now, the four were excitedly talking and laughing among themselves. They each went to their own dressing room, where they chilled out while the roadies loaded the equipment onto their tour bus. Brandon leaned back in his chair and looked at himself in the mirror. His brown eyes were still sparkling from excitement, while his wavy black hair blew softly with the air conditioning. He had an athletic and muscular frame, and stood at an even six feet tall. Brandon was currently wearing white shoes, blue jeans, a black tank top, and black fingerless gloves, having forgone the black leather jacket due to the hotness of the stage lights.
Very soon, it was time to go and the whole crew piled into the bus. They were currently in Ohio, so it would not be a particularly long ride back to their home state. Brandon took out a bottle of Pepsi from the mini-fridge and took a deep slug of it, having still been thirsty from the concert. As the bus continued on into the night, the band talked off and on before they all fell asleep. After a couple days on the ride, they were soon pulling into Fox Lake, and Brandon smiled as he saw the familiar landmarks around him. The bus was soon parked near the back of a local ticket office, trying to be discreet so they would not be mobbed by local press.
Their manager, James Alden, who was a friendly-looking and slightly overweight man with red hair, disembarked from the bus to arrange the concert. The band would later be informed of the date and time, but for now, they were free to just head home. The four left the bus, and Brandon got his guitar out of the luggage compartment on it.
“I’ll see you guys later.”
After some hugs and handshakes, they each headed their separate ways back to their family homes. Fox Lake was small, so everything was pretty much within walking distance.
When Brandon arrived home, his parents and younger sister were happy and excited to see him. He smiled, realizing in that moment how much he had missed his family and home. While it had been great to see so many new places and practice his passion, home had always been where his heart was. After he had visited with them a bit, he went upstairs to his room and placed his guitar in a corner of his room. Brandon sat down at the computer in his room and logged into his Facebook account, which he had not been on in a while, and saw that it was chock full of messages, friend requests, and notifications from friends and fans alike. He chuckled and went about sending the word of their concert to local friends while also dealing with the flood of e-communication, imagining that his bandmates were having similar experiences.