Friday Flash Fiction - "Crazy"

(FFF prompt from The One-Minute Writer on 25 Jan 2013: "Everyone said he was crazy. He never acted crazy around me until this one day I will never forget.")

I guess the circumstances just hadn’t been right for me to see it. Until now. Surveying the wreckage he had created in just a few moments, the stories my friends had told me about Joey had new meaning.

Joey and I had met at Starbucks, just a random thing. The Fender T-shirt caught my eye, and we got talking about music and our favorite bands. Turned out he fronted his own band with guitar and vocals. He told stories in such a funny way, mimicking different voices. If anyone enjoyed life, I guessed it was Joey.

I was there a week later with a couple of girlfriends, and in walked Joey. We said hi and talked for a few minutes. Sarah was giving me strange looks, so when Joey left I wanted to know why.

“You do know who that is, don’t you?”

“Yeah, it’s Joey. Seems like a nice guy.”

“Well, you just watch yourself. There’s more than one Joey.”

What was that supposed to mean? Sure, Sarah was into the local music scene, but that didn’t make her an authority. I frowned at her then glanced at Maggie, who was nodding her head.

“Tell me more.”

So they did. These two had heard stories about Joey’s antics on stage with his band. Not anything they had seen themselves, but their sources swore it had happened. My gut felt weird and my skin felt prickly as they talked. Still, it just didn’t jibe with the guy I’d been talking to.

I saw Joey at Starbucks a few more times after that, almost a regular thing. He was always in a good mood and kept me laughing with his stories. The last time we met up there, he invited me to come see his band. Said it was a gig in a larger club than they usually played. If I went, I could watch them play from off-stage. Sounded like fun.

The night of the gig, I got to the club early and went in through a side door as Joey had said to. When I found him backstage, I hardly recognized him. He didn’t look like the typical Starbucks customer with all that makeup. That moody attitude was different, too. Maybe it was just nerves.

No, it was more than that. When they were into the third song of their set, something went wrong. I never figured out what it was, but Joey just went over the edge. Without warning he swept off his guitar, smashed it on the stage, then went after all the other equipment. Amps kicked over, cymbals flying, enough mayhem to make Pete Townshend proud.

And then it was over, just as quickly. There was a stunned silence in the club for a few seconds, then a chorus of boos started rising from the crowd. Joey extended his arms in a mock salute and stalked off stage in my direction. I was frozen in place. As he went past he smiled at me, but his eyes looked unholy. That must be the other Joey.