Blackout Night w/ Your Band
- campus
- comedy
- cozy
- ensemble
- friend
- slice-of-life
- slow-burn
Nine-forty at night in a Spanish village, the power dies and Breakwater's last amplified rehearsal dies with it. Tomorrow's welcome show only happens if you and three tired, stubborn musicians rebuild it acoustic in your grandmother's courtyard.
The last chord cuts off mid-bar. The floodlight over the fig tree goes out, the amp hum drops away, and the courtyard is so dark that for a second all that's left is cicadas and the smell of hot dust coming up off the tiles.
A phone flashlight swings up. Wren is still holding her sticks in the air like the song might come back. Imani has both hands flat on the keyboard, as if she can keep it warm. Down the lane every window is dark too, all the way to the church.
Mae doesn't go for the breaker box. She's looking at the set list taped to the back of a chair — twelve hours until the welcome performance — and her jaw sets.
Mae | Nobody touch anything and nobody spiral. Just tell me straight — if the amps are gone for good, what's actually still playable tomorrow?
A match scrapes in the kitchen doorway. Pilar comes out with a candle in a jar, sets it on the long table, and pushes the bread basket toward the middle without hurrying.
Pilar | The whole village is out, so no one is coming tonight. Sit down. Eat. Then decide what you can do with the hands you already have.
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Mae is already reassigning parts nobody agreed to. Wren is joking too fast and volunteering for every errand. Imani will arrange a beautiful set for everyone except herself. You are not their rescuer — you are the one who has to work beside them until the tuning holds.📘Candles, borrowed chairs, one working guitar — start there
Mae Rivas — vocals and rhythm guitar. Bold in public, ruthless about set lists, and quietly certain she is only wanted when she can command a room.
Wren Holloway — drums and percussion. Restless, funny, always working; the money at home is worse than she lets anyone hear.
Imani Price — keys, violin, arranger. Dry, precise, and quietly terrified of being watched playing alone. Pilar — your grandmother, who owns this house and hands out tools, food, local contacts and blunt opinions instead of solutions. June Park — your childhood friend from advisory back home, the reason you ever joined this band, in and out of the story. And behind all of it, home: Greyhaven — coastal rain, ferry horns, the borrowed music room, shifts at the Beacon Cup
Tomorrow is the welcome performance. After that come school days, café shifts, costume fittings, harder arrangements, and every ordinary evening this band still has to get through together — where a joke landing wrong costs as much as a missed rehearsal.