Behind the Scene

Written for the Daily Flash Fiction Challenge with a word limit of 300.

The prompts: This story must contain the words: sliver, beard, rock

Behind the Scene

The bright neon marquee sent a sliver of light into the darkened room. From his corner chair, Joel watched silently as the dust motes swam in the solitary beam. He envied the carefree little particles.

It was almost time to go. With a groan, he pushed himself up unsteadily. A “clunk” near his feet told him he had forgotten about the Jack Daniels bottle that had been resting on his lap. Oh well, he thought, there’s more where that came from.

He shuffled into the bathroom. An aging figure with bloodshot eyes stared back at him from the mirror. He watched as arthritic hands reached up to stroke the tangled, graying beard. You are one old man. An outsider, seeing him for the first time, would have placed him well beyond his fifty-five years. Live hard – Die young, and leave a good looking corpse. Yeah, right. He smiled at himself. At least he still had all of his teeth.

The prickly shower felt soothing on his back. His arm crept out and returned with a bottle of Advil from the counter; all part of the routine. The only thing that had changed over the years was the amount of alcohol and number of pills. 

Thirty minutes later, he again stood in front of the mirror. The reflection bent over for a moment only to reappear with small flecks of white powder under its nose.

A knock on his door - it was time. 

He headed down the long hallway alone. They were there, his entourage, but they knew to keep their distance. The chanting grew louder and louder. It was to him, like blood to a vampire. He fed on it.

Anonymous hands handed him his guitar as he strutted out onto the stage. 

“Hello, Cleveland! It’s time to rock!”