Soulerano Pulse: Vol.1

The cords struck and the thunderous crowd hushed, all silently awaiting the melodic and silky baritone voice of Maven Alvarez. Even as he made his way to the microphone, the crowd seemed to have stopped breathing, anticipating an unknown cue. He takes a deep breath, and the world seems eerily still. He sings, ‘I’ve been looking for you’. The words echo out and the hush is replaced with a deafening roar in return. Maven can barely hear himself singing in the earpiece. The crowd is electric and pulsing. He feeds into their energy and stays his course on this journey. The sounds of the crowd only grow louder as he runs through the songs effortlessly. His bandmates seem to have hit the same plateau he has. As they gather in the tour bus, Maven looks at them and realizes something is missing. After years of performing with his brothers, he realizes something is preventing them from being the critically acclaimed artists they should be. “You feel it too don’t you, Mave?” his bandmate, bassist, and best friend, Xavier asked. Maven simply nodded yes. “What you wanna do about it?” All his bandmates looked at him, ready to do what was necessary. Each one of them trusted his leadership and judgment. “Well,” Maven runs his fingers through his sleek black curls and sighed, “I guess we start looking for our missing piece.” Looking skeptical and concerned, the drummer Lita asked, “And Mave, how do you suggest we do that?” “You trust me?” All the bandmates looked at each other. As he realized what Maven was thinking, the lead guitarist Lynnard sighed, “Aww fuck.” 4 months later “I knew it, I knew it. I f*****g knew he’d have us out here doing the absolute f*****g most.” Lynnard complained. “And, where is he? Has anybody seen him in the past three days?” “Chill man just have to trust his process,” Xavier said. “He never does anything without rhyme or reason.” “We are running an entire show that he came up with, without him.” Lynnard continued. “Something feels…obscure. Yeah, obscure is a good way to describe how I feel right now.” Lita peeks out the curtain to see the massive crowd of quarterfinalists that have made it through. “Guys let’s just get through this then kick Mave’s ass later. Like, we all felt we were missing a piece to this puzzle. And I think this is a great idea, save having to sit through all these wannabe mediocre talents. We are bound to find the right piece.” David snickers from the corner, “And she’s the one who makes sense. Yeah, feels like the bizarre is definitely coming to stay amongst us.” “What is that supposed to mea-,“ Xavier cuts her off, “Let's get this show on the road, shall we.” Right as they are about to walk out from behind the curtain, Maven’s figure is seen sitting on the edge of the stage speaking with the now wide-eyed crowd. “We are looking for something different. Something that will give us an edge we don’t already have. We don’t care about the money; we do this for the passion we have for the art. Linking souls and lives through our shows. This is something to consider before coming up here. The rest of Soulerano has picked a pretty decent crowd but it’s time to start getting real with you guys and girls. I’ve been keeping tabs, and to be honest with you, I’m kind of biased on a few of you who have the true potential to take us to the next level. I am pretty damn sure seeing me now is enough for seventy-five percent of you, and so to the twenty-five percent of you here for something more than just me, congratulations. You’ve made it to the next level.” There was a collective gasp, a hush over the crowd, and then angry shouts or sobs. Maven continued, “Hurt dogs bark the loudest,” A cruel smile spread across his face, “and quite frankly, I refuse to have someone added to our legacy that will do little more than appear and be a body. We work year-round on touring and albums. If we even decide to add any of you, if you are not about this life, you will want to leave it pretty quickly anyway. Either this is your destiny, or it is not. On that note, the twenty-five percent I mentioned before…” Maven leaps his six foot two basketball body frame from the stage and saunters stage right to the exit door. “Only twenty percent of you have made it to next week’s final round. Everyone else thanks for your efforts, but you didn’t make the cut. Names are on the bulletin outside these doors. If you see your name, hang around and Lita will give you instructions on what is next.” Maven disappears out of the door. A hundred people made their way gravely to the door to look. Ninety-five contenders burst out in various expressions of sadness, hopelessness, and anger. And Soulerano stood by as their leader, Maven Alverez, destroyed ninety-five hopes and dreams with cold yet truthful words. In truth they were relieved they wouldn’t have to sit through any more auditions. However, Xavier knew a part of this was to feed something darker in their leader. He stood in admiration at how cold and calculating his cousin can be. “Sorry to steal you guy’s thunder. I had to trim the fat off this group and figured you guys would feel somewhat, if not completely, relieved at not sitting through any more of the mediocrity you did find.” Maven said as an offer of apology. Everyone jumped, not expecting to even see him until much later. “Really, really, really, REALLY wish you wouldn’t do that Mave.” Lynnard exclaimed. “Awe, why not? It is sooo much fun,” Maven chuckled. “We are relieved, but that was mean and cold as f**k Mave,” Lita replied. “Lita, sugar, don’t pretend we aren’t what we are.” “I think what she is saying, Mave, is that you might have scared off some of the five that you selected…from the shadows…like a f*****g psycho killer…” Xavier said matter of factly. Maven eyes Xavier’s equally built frame. “So... I’m actually kind of counting on it.” The group looks at each other uncertain of what was really coming next. Maven lets the moment settle over them before speaking again, “The grand finale is for the three contestants I am sure are still waiting for Lita to give them their instructions for the next stage in the competition, which will be to perform with us at an exclusive show where they will perform four songs each. They will have to sway the crowd with their musical choices and performances. They get a week.” Lita’s jaw dropped. She had never seen a man command this much power over so many people, and Maven did it in such a weird fashion. ~*~ The five remaining contestants stood in shock in the hallway of the theater, silently trying to grasp the reality that their group just went from a hundred to five within a matter of fifteen minutes. Marcos Delaney, a six foot even, rail thin, and Latino gothic looking singer/songwriter broke the silence, “This is insane! How are we supposed to know what they are actually looking for if they don’t really tell us?” They all looked at each other with no answers for the other; all but one. She stood looking at her name on the bulletin board, letting the moment sink in that she was a few choices away from meeting her destiny. Olivia Kingston touched her fingers to her name and smiled. She was ready for whatever challenge they threw her way. She was ready. Hearing the others starting to panic only sealed her determination even more. She did not fear getting the chance to make an impact that would stain the stage of time. “Hello? Are you there, missy? Or you too shocked to realize your name was picked?” A well to do nasally and to her amusement annoying voice quipped behind her. She turned around blank-faced, and then rolled her eyes. “b***h!” he said as he recoiled as she passed by him. “Better to be a b***h than to be an annoying cunt like yourself,” she said coolly as she leaned against the baby blue painted cinder block walls. Looking at the tile on the floor, she realized how much the tiling fake marble clashed with the cinder block and it made her feel even more annoyed. Mr. Well-to-do stared at Olivia with hatred at her cool demeanor, “You should just leave because you are not going to win.” She chuckled haughtily at his beta male bravado, “My destiny is here,” she looks at his name badge, and sneers, “Bradley.” Bradley stares at Olivia as she smiles before throwing up her middle finger. A door slams to her right, and she looks around to realize it is only her, Bradley, and Marcos standing in the hall. “Looks like you both were so childishly cutthroat that you chased away the other two contenders. Congratulations,” Marcos’s sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed by Bradley but before he could say anything else, Lita sauntered in, not seeming shocked that there were three instead of five contestants left. “Alright, kiddos, time to get this show on the road. Here is your task if you choose to accept it.” Lita and Olivia both snicker and then look at each other and smile. Bradley mumbles, “Kiss ass.” Marcos shakes his head at Bradley in disgust. Lita glares at him, rolls her hazel green eyes then continues, “You have two days to select four songs each to perform with us. After that, each of you will get two hours to practice with us for three days, and one day of rest before you will be performing in front of a sold-out crowd of five thousand people who will determine your fates with Soulerano Pulse. I wouldn’t advise being late. Maven isn’t as…” she looks directly at Bradley, “forgiving as I am.” She hands each contestant the details on a pale-yellow stock card. “If you have any questions you can contact Lynnard or me by those numbers at the bottom of that page. There’s a van outside to take you to your hotels. Gather your things, and it will take you all to your new hotel. And choose wisely for the next two days. See you guys later.” Her waist length chestnut brown ponytail swayed as she turned and walked back through the doors they came through. “Time to get to it, guys!” Olivia announced loudly as she was already heading to the exit doors while the boys stared in awe at Lita’s ass in her yoga pants. ~*~ “I swear to the motherfucking ancestors I am going to kick that kid’s ass!!” Lita fumed on the soft leather couch. “Baby girl, how is that any different from any other guy you’ve encountered?” Xavier chuckled deeply. Lita shoots him a death glare. He puts his hands up in defense, “Hey, hey, I am just saying…you want to beat people’s asses for one reason or another every day. What makes this time so special?” “Because the kid is a complete and utter b***h made cunt,” interjects Soulerano Pulse’s second guitarist Alejandro, “I’ve been watching that kid Bradley and while he’s good on stage, his demeanor is s**t. I don’t even know why Mave thought he was top five potential.” “The crowd will ultimately see through all that.” Maven quipped from the kitchen, “I trust their judgment to pick the best entertainment for them.” “And if they pick the b***h made cunt?” Alejandro asked quizzically. “My dear Ally…. they won’t.” ~*~