Clara Vale: The Empath

Clara felt her finger snap the perfect picture when the Polaroid camera clicked. She rolled her eyes. Yeah, she was still hooked on these damn things. There was something about the instant flash and the reveal of the image that felt realer than any high-def screen could ever be. Plus, it made her feel like a badass in a world where filters reigned dominant.

She held the photo in her hand as it was developing. Maeve’s grin lighting up the frame. The record store’s battered sign hanging a little crooked in the background. It wasn’t perfect, but she made it perfect. Like the tattoos on her arms, and the grungy fit she wore every day.

Colors swirled around her room, auras she couldn’t turn off even if she wanted to. The anxiety coming from the mailman. The lazy glow from the neighbors. She nodded her head. She was always a sucker for the small stuff, even if it got on her nerves.

She dragged a hand through her messy hair, pushing back a lock that kept falling in her eyes. “Grow up, Vale,” she muttered to herself, voice rough from too many late nights and not enough caffeine.

Power was one thing. Feeling like she had to carry everyone else’s emotions dangling above her shoulders? That was the real nightmare.

Clara grabbed a hold of her bass guitar, the strings felt under each finger. Music was the only thing that made sense right now, or anytime at all. If she had to be the hero with a complicated power, well... she might as well own it.

She hummed a riff, feeling her fingers strum against the strings. Tapping her feet to the beat and feeling herself intertwine with her love for music and grounding herself at the same time.

She would do it for some time, but she couldn’t do this the entire day, though she wished. Not enough cares could get her to do anything ever, but she had responsibilities. Oh, those responsibilities...

She got up and placed her guitar back on the stand beside the desk. She took a look around, gathering the auras hovering over some objects within the store.

She decided to look at them, to explore them, why the hell not?

She walked over to the one that gleamed the most, her old record that she made when she was a teenager. She chuckled at the thought of hearing it again, but it brought back memories.

It had a faint misty gray to it. She knew the memory would be something confusing, something she was unsure about.

When she focused on it, just for a split second, she felt herself remember vivid emotions from that day. She could hear faint echoes in her head of how she talked, who was around her, and get a clearer picture of what this was all about.

She shook her head, a slight laughter. She held the record in both hands and just shook it in place. She glanced around the room, and noticed the record player on the desk.

She walked up to it, not hesitating to put it on.

Maeve noticed while she was dusting the shelves in the store. She rushed over in a hurry and had a slight grin on her face.

“You still rock to that thing?” Maeve let out, placing her hands on the record as it was spinning.

Clara scoffed. “I was a dork, but if I didn’t make this I wouldn’t be the person I am today.”

She took her hand and gently placed it off.

Maeve didn’t get offended, she just laughed. The aura around her a bright yellow. It was true happiness, and that’s how Clara knew when she was either joking or not.

Clara walked up to the shelves as Maeve followed behind.

“You’re actually committing to cleaning with me?” Maeve joked, nudging her.

Clara gave her a sideways glance, half-smirk on her lips.

“Yeah, well... someone’s gotta make sure you don’t turn this place into disaster central. Besides, miracles can happen!”

She grabbed a dusty record, flicking some dust off like it was a crime scene.

“Don’t get too used to it, though. I’m not your cleaning fairy.”

Maeve tried to get back on track, but she was always full of laughter that sometimes Clara wouldn’t be able to tell without the bright aura surrounding her telling her otherwise.

“Are you gonna clean or... let me guess, I have to be your maid?” Clara played, her half-smirk going all the way.

Maeve gave her a side-eye. “I always clean, just... let’s get this over with so we can get some business, alright?”

Clara rocked her head back and forth in tune with the beat of the record, and turned her focus quickly.

“I couldn’t hear you, this beat is still to this day, absolutely sick.”

Maeve walked with the records to put up for the day, turning back at her.

“Only you think this by the way, only you Clara!” Her voice slightly louder the farther she went.

Clara ran toward the door, flipping the sign.

“Oh yeah? Well we’re open! I hope you were thinking of that!” she said sarcastically.

She felt herself loosen up as she always did, feeling everything come to life as she flipped the sign. It was always the little things she noticed that could brighten up the atmosphere.

Clara walked up to the counter, counting the record sales they made yesterday, and grabbed a pen, writing it down.

“Hey Maeve, we made over 30 sales yesterday!” she yelled. “Is that more or less than the girlfriends you had?”

Maeve ran from the back, shoving her playfully.

“In fact, Clara.” She eyed her up and down. “It’s theoretically less than that.” Her arms folded, not able to hide the obvious grin.

Her aura was still bright yellow, she didn’t take offense to it.

That’s how Clara knew, how she could tell when jokes either went too far or struck just in the right way it should.

“Let’s aim for 60 today, maybe it would be double the amount of girlfriends you had.”

Maeve rolled her eyes, but the grin stayed. “Double the girlfriends, huh? That sounds absolutely exhausting.”

Clara shrugged. “Hey, someone’s gotta set the record.”

Maeve’s yellow aura brightened up, like it was exploding within her.

She glanced at Clara. “But I guess I’ll settle for beating you at life instead.”

Clara laughed. “You’re on. Loser buys coffee.”

They joked, but when it came to business they had to be on their feet. Exhausting, she knew. But bills had to get paid, they all had needs to fulfill. Lame, right?

Then the chimes of the bell on the door rang as the door sprung open.

It was Audrey, their fellow bandmate, and Clara’s girlfriend.

Her aura was lively, she seemed cheerful today. Clara knew what she was getting herself into the moment she saw her.

“What’s up thrashers?” Audrey joked, flashing a grin like she owned the place.

Maeve nudged Clara from the side. “Brace yourself.”

Audrey got in between them, completely ignoring the subtle warning. “Guess what? I scored us a gig for Friday! Downtown, packed place, cash upfront.”

Clara raised an eyebrow. “You’re joking. You’re not fucking around?”

“Cross my damn heart or I’d die, Clara.” Audrey’s smirk glistened the room.

She pulled out her phone. “But there’s a catch.”

Clara and Maeve leaned in. “Isn’t there always a catch?”

Audrey’s grin widened. “We’ve got to bring something new to the table, something explosive.”

They both backed up. Clara held her arm out, hand facing her.

“Pause, we’re not using explosives.” Her face stern as Maeve nudged her.

“Explosives would be so cool!” Maeve leaned in.

Audrey glanced at Clara, a flicker of concern on her face. “Clara, we gotta set up something to leave an impression of Ash & Thrash!”

Clara sighed audibly, closing her eyes. She nodded slightly.

“I’m not a loser, so you’re on.” She got closer to them.

Maeve clapped her hands excitedly. “Yes! I can already see it! Fireworks, lasers, maybe even a functional smoke machine!”

Audrey grinned. “Exactly, we need something to steal the show.”

Clara rubbed the back of her neck, feeling the challenge settle in. “Alright, but if I get arrested, you’re all free to share a cell with me.”

They both laughed, but Clara caught the seriousness in their eyes. This wasn’t about fun, it was about making a name for themselves. They needed to make Ash & Thrash remembered.

“Let’s start brainstorming tonight,” Audrey said, pulling out her notebook. “Ideas, wild or not, throw them at me.”

Maeve nudged Clara again. “Don’t hold back, Clara. You’re the lead singer and guitarist!”

Clara smiled in spite of herself. “Okay then, let’s make a statement. But we can’t make one without Nora here with us.”

Audrey’s smile faltered just a bit. “Yeah, Nora’s been MIA for weeks. We need her in order to pull this off.”

Maeve bit her lip. “Do you even think she will show up?”

Clara shrugged, closing her eyes and taking a breath. “She’s a tough gal. She will come around, she always does.”

Audrey flipped a page in her notebook. “Well until we get her ass in this studio, we can plan this out.”

Clara nodded, feeling the fire inside her. “Exactly. Ash & Thrash isn’t just a name. They live by it.”

The three of them shared a look, silent but full of determination. Then an idea crossed Clara’s mind. They could easily text her anytime they wanted to.

Clara grabbed Audrey’s phone and dialed Nora’s number. The line rang for a while.

“Grabbing my phone while having your own phone, classic Clara,” Audrey said, barely able to contain her laughter.

Clara glanced at her, a half-smirk on her lips as Nora picked up.

“Yeah?” Nora’s voice was quiet, like she didn’t want to speak.

“Look, Nora,” Clara said, trying to keep it steady. “We’re all a little screwed up, but the band’s not the same without you. So stop ghosting us.”

There was a pause. Then she sighed. “Yeah, sorry. Just needed to breathe.”

“Fair.” Clara didn’t sugarcoat it. “Just start taking this seriously.”

A faint crack in Nora’s voice. “I won’t.”

Clara hung up. She felt relieved, but Nora made it hard. Every time they were in band mode she would be nowhere around them, when the band needed the attention most.

They all sat around, patiently waiting for her arrival. Maeve was rocking her head to the music, Audrey was focused on the notebook.

Clara, however, was being absolutely lazy.

She walked around the room, getting the half empty bag of chips from the counter and finished them. They didn’t have any unique customers today, but it didn’t stop the band.

After a while the door creaked open. Clara looked over from the side.

There she was. Nora. A little worn around the edges. Her eyes were tired but she was alert. Her usual spark was dimmed but it was still there.

She paused at the doorway, like she was testing the waters.

Maeve nudged Clara slightly. “She arrived.”

Clara gave a small nod, keeping her voice steady. “Hey Nora, thought you might not show up.”

Nora managed a half smile, stepping inside. “Yeah… I figured it was about the time.”

Audrey stood and pulled her in for a quick hug. “We missed you.”

Nora shrugged off some of the tension on her shoulders. “I missed this too, a little too much.”

The room felt warmer. Ash & Thrash was fully reunited. It was the highlight so far.

Clara caught Nora’s eye and nodded. “Let’s get our asses on the grind.”

Nora met her gaze and, for the first time in weeks, Clara felt the determination inside of her. The same one that held this band together through tough times.

They got together as a group and started to figure out what to do with the gig Friday. They mapped out the smoke machine and the fireworks. They had some old fireworks in the storage space. The smoke machine was something they had already used before.

Now it was time to practice the song. They all went to the corner of the store and grabbed their instruments.

Clara grabbed her guitar and the mic, Nora grabbed the bass guitar, Audrey went on the drums, and Maeve was on the keyboard.

“Alright,” Clara said, holding her finger on the guitar string. “We’re going to practice Red Lights Run.”

Then the room got quiet.

Audrey broke the silence. “That’s insane.”

Nora nodded, a bit anxious.

“For a big blockbuster hit, you’re confident in us, Clara?” Maeve asked, adjusting her guitar straps.

Clara nodded, her hands firmly across the strings this time.

“Take it from the top, no bullshit, we can pull this off.” She looked at each of them before pressing down on a string.

They all nodded in agreement. Audrey grabbed the drumsticks and lightly tapped the drums. Nora was behind the keyboard, her eyes unsteady but trying.

As soon as Clara started playing, they all played melodically along with her. Maeve and Clara were synced perfectly, Audrey was doing her part. But as Clara looked around, mic nearly touching her mouth, she noticed Nora’s aura.

It was a dull gray. Nora was stumbling on the keys. The more Clara focused, the more she could hear her inner thoughts. She started to zone out, just enough to be one with that emotion.

The entire room slowed down. It was just the dull gray hue scattered throughout the air. Clara gently placed the guitar on the counter beside her mom’s name mantle.

Then Nora’s thoughts came rushing in. Nora and her family were in the room like it was being displayed through a projector.

“Your sister, keep her close, for your own good,” her mom said, arm around Nora’s shoulder.

Her dad was next to the window, gazing out at her sister. Then he turned his attention quickly to Nora.

“If you do anything wrong…” he said, holding back his fears.

Nora leaned in. “I have band, but I promise…”

Her mom cut her off. “Your band? That metal rock band? The same one that couldn’t distract you before?”

Nora shook her head immediately. “It’s... a work in progress.”

Her dad grabbed her, staring her in the eyes.

“Go out there and make a name for yourself. Do us both a favor and make us proud. I swear if you do anything harmful to yourself again.”

His look was stern, but pitiful. He patted her shoulder and barely gave her time to respond.

“Hey, wait,” Nora called out, but they both left her alone in her room.

Everything around Clara suddenly flashed back in. The dull gray hovered around Nora once again, leaving the room’s atmosphere.

Clara stood there in a daze, shaking herself off.

“Hey, you stopped mid performance. You know we got a few days, right?” Maeve stood beside her.

Clara gripped the counter, trying to process Nora’s expression.

Her gaze locked on Nora.

“You can’t play, can you?” Clara asked, her head tilting toward her.

“Let’s just practice. You don’t need to enter my psyche or some weird shit you do.”

Nora’s aura then turned a dark red. It seemed like she was frustrated.

“I’m asking on behalf of the band, Nora. If we’re doing this, we need no distractions.”

Clara got closer to her.

She stepped closer. Maeve edged between them, sensing the tension.

But Nora leaned in too. “I want to play. It’s my dream. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care about the band’s future, Clara.”

Clara’s eyes wandered for a split second. She felt the rush hit her, like frustration mixed with fear and regret. It crawled under her skin. But the heartbeat was hers.

She forced herself to shake it off. “Passion is great, Nora. But passion doesn’t fix a busted string or busted hands.”

Nora’s jaw tightened. “You don’t think I know my own limits?”

“Right now? I can’t be so sure.” Clara stepped back, crossing her arms. “One bad slip and you could set us back weeks.”

Maeve cut in, hands raised like she was breaking up a fight. “Okay, time-out. You two are acting like we’re in a battle of the bands tournament.”

But Nora kept her eyes locked on Clara, aura pulsing orange. Slight frustration. “I can play,” she said again, quieter this time, but with more certainty.

Clara placed her hand on the counter behind her, knuckles brushing her mom’s mantle. A reminder of why she was here.

She took a deep breath and looked down at her guitar on the counter. She grabbed it with purpose, like she had something to achieve herself.

“Then I’ll play. I don’t care who joins, but the gig’s Friday, and I’m not wasting another minute arguing.”

She swept her gaze over the room until she saw their nods. Instruments in hand, they took their places in the back of the record store.

Clara strummed the guitar, the strings biting at her fingertips. The sound was electric. Her focus narrowed until there was nothing but the beat.

Maeve’s bass slid in, low and steady, a heartbeat under the melody. Nora followed on drums, every hit sharp and deliberate, her aura burning a bright, confident gold. For once, Clara felt relief.

The earlier clash between them fed the tempo, each note carrying the charge of it. They weren’t just playing, they were locked in together.

Through the front window, Clara caught customers slowing, curious. Even Ryan, the bar owner, lingered in the doorway, arms crossed, watching.

Clara leaned into the mic and let the first verse spill out. Her voice wavered through the store, and to the outside through the creaks in the door and windows.

One by one, people started to cheer, including someone wearing their shirt. She looked familiar. Clara kept her gaze on her just long enough for her to notice.

Clara smiled. It was warranted after everything that had transpired today. She felt like everything was falling into place, one by one, no bullshit, just the band together.

The gig was close. And if this was the sound they could make now, they might be unstoppable.