Musings of a Musician: Brian Young

Musings of a Musician: Brian Young, June 6th, 7:00 P.M.

Saturday is my favorite day of the week.

After a week of hard work, I reward myself with the one thing I love; making music.

Being a musician isn’t about fame, money, or the attention women heap upon me. It’s about finding peace, balance, and creativity. Some people look at the notes on a sheet of music as a foreign language. I guess to some it is.

Music speaks to me. One look at the page and I see rhythm.

Complexity. Harmony.

Put the right set of instruments together in the hands of capable musicians, and it’s magic.

What I can do with these hands is a gift  shared only with those who appreciate it.  If I wasn’t in a band, I would still make music. Even if it meant spending countless hours in my room alone and no one to listen. As long as I have my guitar and a melody  in my heart…all is right in my world.

Time check: five hours until show time.

I roll my neck to relax the tension in my muscles, peel off my sweat drenched work clothes, and toss them in the laundry basket. A quick shower, a bite to eat, and then a few hours to rest.

Tonight, I would be making sweet music.



Musings of a Musician: Brian Young, June 6th, 1:00 A.M.

The club is crowded, just the way I like it.

The MC calls the band’s name and we assume our positions. Within seconds, the drummer, Derrick, taps out a count with his drumsticks, then beats out the opening notes of the song. The dance floor fills with gyrating bodies in seconds.

I play without thought. My fingers know the rhythm, the shift changes, the breaks. I let loose and let the music flow.

I do my thing, scan the crowd, wink and smile at the women gathered at the edge of the stage near where I stand. It’s a part of the act…well, mostly an act. For countless weeks, it seems the same group of women-groupies- stood before me, each trying to outdo the last one to get my attention. I’d met up with a few of them, had sex, but that was as far as I wanted to go. If they wasted no time jumping in bed with me, what would stop them from doing it with someone else? The only thing they cared about was the fact I was standing on a stage.

I force myself to scan the rest of the crowd, ignoring the groupies, in no mood to get caught up in their drama tonight. Then I saw it, a flash of caramel skin, long dark hair, and a curvaceous body that begged to be touched. Who was she? I hadn’t seen her at the club before. As if she heard my thoughts, her eyes met mine. The glare of the stages lights made it impossible to see the color of her eyes, but her lips were perfect. They lifted in a brief smile before she turned and disappeared in the crowded dance floor, only to emerge a few feet away. I could no longer see her body. Damn.

The song ended. I wiped my sweaty palms on the side of my shorts and gripped the guitar. The next song  had a guitar solo. I forced myself to concentrate  although I could play the notes in my sleep. But it was hard to concentrate fully without trying to get another glimpse of the mysterious women.

Then like magic, the crowd parted and there she was.

Our eyes met again. I knew then, I had to have her.



Check out this DELETED SCENE and find out what Brian does next!

Want more? Read a sample of the FIRST CHAPTER of A HEART NOT EASILY BROKEN!


4 thoughts on “Musings of a Musician: Brian Young

  1. Pingback: Let’s Talk About It: What Does Friendship Mean To You? | Author M.J. Kane

  2. Pingback: #TeaserTuesday- The Butterfly Memoirs: Life, Love, Tragedy, and Triumph… | Author M.J. Kane

  3. Pingback: Experiencing the Boring Saturday Night Hang Out Countdown? Check out this FREE READ! | Author M. J. Kane

  4. Pingback: The Butterfly Memoirs- Contest and Book Review! | M. J. Kane

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s