Chapter 2
"I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I'm close to something real..."-Linkin Park, "Somewhere I Belong"
I felt uneasy going to the rendezvous point. But I was doing this for Dylan. She would want to discover the origin of the band. The problem was I didn't know what the meeting was about. I was torn regarding my decision. It was 10:45 p.m. and I've been lying in my bed for what seemed like an eternity. At least I didn't have to deal with nightmares this time around. And it was a school night. If my mother found out I snuck out of the house in the middle of the night, I'd be grounded for a month. The radio was still on with hushed voices singing. It might as well have been the calling of the spirits.
I made my decision. I packed a few things to play it safe. I snuck out of my room and made it out of the house scot-free. I headed to my car and double-checked to see if I still had the note. It was in my pocket. Two minutes later, I got in my car and took off. My heart was beating at double speed the further I drove. It had been raining during the afternoon and the roads were a little damp. Maybe there was a plan to celebrate the anniversary of Chester's passing. It was just a guess.
45 minutes later, I reached Jefferson Park and to my amazement, there were six more LP soldiers waiting under a shaded tree. A woman, possibly in her mid 20s, walked towards me and extended her hand out to mine. She was dressed in black leggings with a large, red flannel shirt and black combat boots.
"I'm Nora," she introduced herself.
"I'm Tristan," I replied.
"Nice to meet you. I see you got the note. We are all out here because we're planning a special memorial in the honor of Chester Bennington. In case you didn't know, he died ten years ago on July 20, 2017. He was one of the greatest singers in rock history. How long have you been an LP soldier?"
I said, "Since I was around six. I went to a concert with my cousin and my sister, who's six years older. So, she introduced me to them while listening to a song "One More Light." Sadly, she passed away last year and I'm carrying on the legacy."
"Nice. I've been listening to them since I was teenager. The first album I owned was "A Thousand Suns." I got it for my thirteenth birthday. I officially fell in love with the music after the fact."
"Wow! I'm glad to see there are other people in my neighborhood who are into the band," I exclaimed in awe.
"Of course," Nora replied. "Now you know. This is just the beginning, my friend. As you already know, the fans are called soldiers. We have a dedicated worldwide legion of fans and I have befriended some from different countries like Italy, Germany and the United Kingdom."
"Excellent," I said. "How will this celebration affect the other fans and where will it take place?"
"Well," she continued, "I'm still on the lookout for a specific and special place to hold it. But we all thought we should hold it someplace, preferably by the beach. You know, somewhere peaceful. Chester was all about giving back and this is one way of giving back to him. He was all about the love for his fans. No matter what they were going through, the music brought life into their hearts. That's how special Chester was. Onstage, he was pouring out all the angst and despair, but he also had a light side to him; it was more of a emphatic side to his nature. Offstage, he was funny, caring, warm, relatable."
"That's exactly how he was to me. I remember my sister, cousin and I were at a restaurant after the concert. It's been years. We all headed to his table and asked him for an autograph. Chester was elated to do it and he gave us all a hug individually. He said that he was glad we came to the concert and were such devoted fans. I'll never forget that moment."
"That's wonderful. It's always great to hear about those little moments with Chester. You are very lucky, so to speak. I encountered him during a meet and greet in the United Kingdom on a family vacation. I was thirteen. My brother and I talked with him for what seemed like forever. I remembered him being so open about his struggles. He was just charming and likeable."
About 15 minutes later, the rest of the group huddled together to narrow down the locations for the memorial. We all agreed that we stick with the mission of wisdom, justice and love. According to Nora, the entire world was so busy dealing with war and hate over the years that it felt as though Chester's mission fell on deaf ears. The only ones who understood the mission were the LP soldiers, which was sad.
Sometimes I felt like I let him down. But I knew it wasn't true. This is why I was scorned by my classmates. Some said Chester was selfish for offing himself the way he did. Others just called me a bastard for worshipping someone who did such an act. Others said he was a disappointment to his fans when they didn't even know about his hardships. Dylan explained that Chester suffered from depression and was a victim of sexual abuse. That really hurt my heart even though I was not aware of the whole story at first. Over the months before his passing, he was very vocal about his trials and tribulations. He was truly crying out for help and no one heard the call. She caught it all on the news the day he died. She told me she wished she could have saved him from himself.
Once the meeting was over, we went our separate ways. I found out it was almost two in the morning. I ran to my car and jetted off for home. I was tired but it was worth the effort to get started with this memorial. I was just praying I didn't get caught in the act or I'd be grounded for sure. But I knew I wanted to find somewhere I belong. And I found it at last.
I got back home at around 3:30 a.m. When I got to the door, my mother was on the couch, sleeping. I didn't know if she suspected that I was missing or anything.
"Mom, are you awake?" I whispered.
"I am now. I went to your room and thought you were still in bed. Where were you?" she asked.
"Just took a stroll to the beach," I assured her.
"You know I worry greatly about you and want to know of your whereabouts."
"Sorry for concerning you, mom. I was only gone for a little while. I met some great people who were Linkin Park fans in the neighborhood."
"Oh, are you talking about that band again whose frontman was...what's his name?"
"Chester Bennington, mom. Remember Dylan telling you about that?"
"Oh, yeah, she did," she said, wearily. "She always went on and on about how great Linkin Park was. It was Linkin Park this and Linkin Park that. What was it about?"
I told her, "It's a celebration for Chester Bennington's passing. Ten-year anniversary, to be exact. So far, me and a few other soldiers agreed to have it at the beach."
She said, "That's nice. You really admire this guy that much?"
"To the fullest extent," I replied.
"Please don't take off like that in the middle of the night. For all you know, the cops would have sent out a search party for you."
"I apologize. It won't happen again, I promise."
"Good. Now, get in bed, mister. Got another day of school tomorrow." She kissed the top of my forehead and slowly made her way up the stairs to her room. I sat on the couch for another few minutes before heading up to my bedroom. I was still thinking about the memorial and wondered how surprised Dylan would be to see the magic happening. But I was sure it would be amazing.
I felt uneasy going to the rendezvous point. But I was doing this for Dylan. She would want to discover the origin of the band. The problem was I didn't know what the meeting was about. I was torn regarding my decision. It was 10:45 p.m. and I've been lying in my bed for what seemed like an eternity. At least I didn't have to deal with nightmares this time around. And it was a school night. If my mother found out I snuck out of the house in the middle of the night, I'd be grounded for a month. The radio was still on with hushed voices singing. It might as well have been the calling of the spirits.
I made my decision. I packed a few things to play it safe. I snuck out of my room and made it out of the house scot-free. I headed to my car and double-checked to see if I still had the note. It was in my pocket. Two minutes later, I got in my car and took off. My heart was beating at double speed the further I drove. It had been raining during the afternoon and the roads were a little damp. Maybe there was a plan to celebrate the anniversary of Chester's passing. It was just a guess.
45 minutes later, I reached Jefferson Park and to my amazement, there were six more LP soldiers waiting under a shaded tree. A woman, possibly in her mid 20s, walked towards me and extended her hand out to mine. She was dressed in black leggings with a large, red flannel shirt and black combat boots.
"I'm Nora," she introduced herself.
"I'm Tristan," I replied.
"Nice to meet you. I see you got the note. We are all out here because we're planning a special memorial in the honor of Chester Bennington. In case you didn't know, he died ten years ago on July 20, 2017. He was one of the greatest singers in rock history. How long have you been an LP soldier?"
I said, "Since I was around six. I went to a concert with my cousin and my sister, who's six years older. So, she introduced me to them while listening to a song "One More Light." Sadly, she passed away last year and I'm carrying on the legacy."
"Nice. I've been listening to them since I was teenager. The first album I owned was "A Thousand Suns." I got it for my thirteenth birthday. I officially fell in love with the music after the fact."
"Wow! I'm glad to see there are other people in my neighborhood who are into the band," I exclaimed in awe.
"Of course," Nora replied. "Now you know. This is just the beginning, my friend. As you already know, the fans are called soldiers. We have a dedicated worldwide legion of fans and I have befriended some from different countries like Italy, Germany and the United Kingdom."
"Excellent," I said. "How will this celebration affect the other fans and where will it take place?"
"Well," she continued, "I'm still on the lookout for a specific and special place to hold it. But we all thought we should hold it someplace, preferably by the beach. You know, somewhere peaceful. Chester was all about giving back and this is one way of giving back to him. He was all about the love for his fans. No matter what they were going through, the music brought life into their hearts. That's how special Chester was. Onstage, he was pouring out all the angst and despair, but he also had a light side to him; it was more of a emphatic side to his nature. Offstage, he was funny, caring, warm, relatable."
"That's exactly how he was to me. I remember my sister, cousin and I were at a restaurant after the concert. It's been years. We all headed to his table and asked him for an autograph. Chester was elated to do it and he gave us all a hug individually. He said that he was glad we came to the concert and were such devoted fans. I'll never forget that moment."
"That's wonderful. It's always great to hear about those little moments with Chester. You are very lucky, so to speak. I encountered him during a meet and greet in the United Kingdom on a family vacation. I was thirteen. My brother and I talked with him for what seemed like forever. I remembered him being so open about his struggles. He was just charming and likeable."
About 15 minutes later, the rest of the group huddled together to narrow down the locations for the memorial. We all agreed that we stick with the mission of wisdom, justice and love. According to Nora, the entire world was so busy dealing with war and hate over the years that it felt as though Chester's mission fell on deaf ears. The only ones who understood the mission were the LP soldiers, which was sad.
Sometimes I felt like I let him down. But I knew it wasn't true. This is why I was scorned by my classmates. Some said Chester was selfish for offing himself the way he did. Others just called me a bastard for worshipping someone who did such an act. Others said he was a disappointment to his fans when they didn't even know about his hardships. Dylan explained that Chester suffered from depression and was a victim of sexual abuse. That really hurt my heart even though I was not aware of the whole story at first. Over the months before his passing, he was very vocal about his trials and tribulations. He was truly crying out for help and no one heard the call. She caught it all on the news the day he died. She told me she wished she could have saved him from himself.
Once the meeting was over, we went our separate ways. I found out it was almost two in the morning. I ran to my car and jetted off for home. I was tired but it was worth the effort to get started with this memorial. I was just praying I didn't get caught in the act or I'd be grounded for sure. But I knew I wanted to find somewhere I belong. And I found it at last.
I got back home at around 3:30 a.m. When I got to the door, my mother was on the couch, sleeping. I didn't know if she suspected that I was missing or anything.
"Mom, are you awake?" I whispered.
"I am now. I went to your room and thought you were still in bed. Where were you?" she asked.
"Just took a stroll to the beach," I assured her.
"You know I worry greatly about you and want to know of your whereabouts."
"Sorry for concerning you, mom. I was only gone for a little while. I met some great people who were Linkin Park fans in the neighborhood."
"Oh, are you talking about that band again whose frontman was...what's his name?"
"Chester Bennington, mom. Remember Dylan telling you about that?"
"Oh, yeah, she did," she said, wearily. "She always went on and on about how great Linkin Park was. It was Linkin Park this and Linkin Park that. What was it about?"
I told her, "It's a celebration for Chester Bennington's passing. Ten-year anniversary, to be exact. So far, me and a few other soldiers agreed to have it at the beach."
She said, "That's nice. You really admire this guy that much?"
"To the fullest extent," I replied.
"Please don't take off like that in the middle of the night. For all you know, the cops would have sent out a search party for you."
"I apologize. It won't happen again, I promise."
"Good. Now, get in bed, mister. Got another day of school tomorrow." She kissed the top of my forehead and slowly made her way up the stairs to her room. I sat on the couch for another few minutes before heading up to my bedroom. I was still thinking about the memorial and wondered how surprised Dylan would be to see the magic happening. But I was sure it would be amazing.
Comments
Post a Comment