Here We Are Now, Entertain Us
Posted: Wed Mar 12, 2025 12:00 am
The garage door clanks and groans as though awakened from an eternal slumber, the same eternal slumber it was awoken from 23 hours and 36 minutes ago, and the same one it will be awoken from in roughly that same time period from now.
"Come on, fuckinnnnn, open sesame or whatever."
Rozlyn Dolor stands within the garage, watching the door slowly rise as she holds the button on the door's remote.
She yawns and stretches her arms out as she waits, taking out her phone and digging through her music app.
"Okayyy, uhhh shit what am I playing today? What am I in the mood for?"
What did I play yesterday?
Stigma right?
Yeah I was letting myself have a rest day from singing shit.
Okay well that doesn't narrow it down very much.
Is it a Shinedown day or a Paramore day?
Or fuck it, could be a Metallica day, not many of those.
As her head races with thoughts as to what to play, the garage door begins to complete its ascent, and eventually locks into place with a loud T H U N K
"Sweet, thanks. Dad'll get you fixed up eventually. Probably."
I am fucking talking to a door.
While "Nothing compares to a quiet evening alone", she knows that there are unfortunately benefits to having social interactions with other people.
A major benefit of such things is a substantial decrease in frequency of conversations had with doors. This is a statistic she would like to see stop increasing.
She tosses the garage remote onto a shelf and takes her seat, within her drum kit she calls home, she can let the beat take over.
Once I fucking...
"Fuck it, let's take it from the top!"
Rozlyn hits Play and sets her phone on the shelf behind her, above which hangs a notice from the Homeowner's Association
{{{ ROZLYN DOLOR - PREGAME START }}}
[Now Playing: Paramore - Misery Business]
She nods her head along to the intro, the simple riff repeats itself four time, then
Deep breath innnnn, and out.
"Hit that, hit that snare."
She strikes the snare drum suddenly and violently, launching into the chaotic backing of the second half of the intro, following along with the expanded repeating riff and counting herself in.
3, 2, 1, slow it down.
"I'm in the business of misery let's take it from the top."
She shifts into the less hectic drum section gracefully, undoubtedly having performed this song maybe a hundred times, her voice follows the words perfectly on beat to accentuate this intimate relationship with the song.
"She's got a body like an hourglass it's ticking like a clock"
She rolls her head along her shoulders as one last stretch before facing forwards and speaking "clock" with such vitriol it's undoubtedly personal.
"It's a matter of time before we all run out. When I thought he was mine, she caught him by the mouth!
I waited eight long months, she finally set him free. I told him I couldn't lie he was the only one for me..."
As if.
"Two weeks and we caught on fireeee.
She's got it out for me, but I wear the biggest smiiile."
Ramp it up ramp it up!
Beat, beat, beat on the bass, fill it in across the board aaaand NOW!
With perfect execution she breaks into the chorus section
"WHOA-OOOOO, I never meant to brag, but I got 'im where I want 'im now!
WHOA-OOOOO, it was never my intention to brag. To steal it all away from you nowww."
Ease it, pull it back, shift into lower gear.
She steadies into the slow rhythmic thumping of the chorus exit, prepping herself to drop it all and return to roots once the chorus concludes.
"But God, does it feel so good. 'Cause I got 'im where I want 'im now.
And if you could then you know you woullld.
'Cause God it just feels soooo... it just feels soooo good."
She takes a breath and relaxes her posture slightly in this 1.5 seconds of respite
And we're back.
Launching back into the steady beat from before the chorus, she marches onwards
"Second chances, they don't ever matter, people never change."
She rolls her eyes at something she recalled.
"Once a whore, you're nothing more, I'm sorry, that'll never change.
And about forgiveness we're both supposed to have exchanged..."
No way in Hell.
"I'm sorry honey, but I passed it up, now LOOK THIS WAY!"
She lowers her voice a little, like whispering into someones ear.
"Well there's a million other girls who do it just like you.
Looking as innocent as possible to get to who they want and what they like.
It's easy if you do it right..."
She closes her eyes and braces herself for re-entering the chorus.
"Well, I refuse, I refuse, I REFUSE!!"
Beat, Beat, Beat It On The Bass, Fill It In Across The Board Aaaand NOW!!!
Launching into the chorus even more aggressively than before, there's a much stronger sound of anger, but also one of confidence, of power, of control.
She might associate this song with some shitty people, but this isn't their song. It's her fucking song. This is her moment.
"WHOA-OOOOO, I never meant to brag, but I got 'im where I want 'im now!
WHOA-OOOOO, it was never my intention to brag. To steal it all away from you nowww."
Reign it in Roz.
"But God, does it feel so good. 'Cause I got 'im where I want 'im now.
And if you could then you know you woullld.
'Cause God it just feels soooo..."
Dropping back into the pulsing beat, steady, steady, steady.
"it just feels soooo gooooooooood."
Hectic, more hectic, get that complexity in there.
Keeping the bass drum's steady pulse she fills in the more chaotic accompaniment from the rest of the kit.
"I watched his wildest dreams come true, and not one of them involving you.
Just watch my wildest dreams come true, not one of them, INVOLVIIIING!!"
Go.
Fucking.
Wild.
Rozlyn lets herself completely fall into the groove, living entirely in the moment of this section of no vocals. For these few seconds, the anger can let itself out, becoming pure rhythm and style. Eyes closed visualizing that central beat. Building it, expanding it, blooming like a flower, a rose, thorns on the stem, cut your finger clean open. "Dolor" is a funny last name, "Pain". She's a rose in pain, thorns on the outside to protect her from being held close, a defense, a separation. People won't nip her petals if they're too afraid to touch her. A rosebush in the corner, to be admired and not handled. That's what she wishes she could be. But some people have other plans for her, and they brought gloves. Curses.
Bring it back down Roz.
"Whoa-ooo, I never meant to brag. But I got 'im where I want 'im now."
And back up we go, one more time.
"WHOA-OOOOO, I never meant to brag, but I got 'im where I want 'im now!
WHOA-OOOOO, it was never my intention to brag. To steal it all away from you nowww."
And back down, steady steady beat. Then pull it into the chorus beat.
"But God, does it feel so good. 'Cause I got 'im where I want 'im now.
And if you could then you know you woullld.
'Cause God it just feels sooooooooooooooooooooooo...
It just feels so goood."
One two, three-four---end.
Her phone moves to the next song, "You're Gonna Go Far Kid" by The Offspring, but before the first word can be spoken she reaches behind her and presses pause.
She relaxes in her seat, leaning back and catching her breath, giving a side-eye to the usual handful that watch her performances from a distance, but she hardly acknowledges them.
"Well that was, fun. Nice to fuckinnn... come back to that one once in a while."
Her phone receives a message.
"Goddammit, already? It's only a three minute song, how is he this fast?! Ugh. Finally get the door open and sit down to fucking play, and then Dad's impeccable timing has him having just finished dinner. Up and down and up and down... ...Least he made quesadillas. Guess that makes life worth living."
She sighs and stands up, getting the remote for the door and closing it.
"Wish I could press the button once and just let you do your thing but nooooo."
...'You'...'Your'...
Another one for the door talk tally, who's keeping track?
She yawns and stretches once more, leaving as she entered. Her drums rest to be played another day.
{{{ Rozlyn Dolor to be continued elsewhere... perhaps? }}}
"Come on, fuckinnnnn, open sesame or whatever."
Rozlyn Dolor stands within the garage, watching the door slowly rise as she holds the button on the door's remote.
She yawns and stretches her arms out as she waits, taking out her phone and digging through her music app.
"Okayyy, uhhh shit what am I playing today? What am I in the mood for?"
What did I play yesterday?
Stigma right?
Yeah I was letting myself have a rest day from singing shit.
Okay well that doesn't narrow it down very much.
Is it a Shinedown day or a Paramore day?
Or fuck it, could be a Metallica day, not many of those.
As her head races with thoughts as to what to play, the garage door begins to complete its ascent, and eventually locks into place with a loud T H U N K
"Sweet, thanks. Dad'll get you fixed up eventually. Probably."
I am fucking talking to a door.
While "Nothing compares to a quiet evening alone", she knows that there are unfortunately benefits to having social interactions with other people.
A major benefit of such things is a substantial decrease in frequency of conversations had with doors. This is a statistic she would like to see stop increasing.
She tosses the garage remote onto a shelf and takes her seat, within her drum kit she calls home, she can let the beat take over.
Once I fucking...
"Fuck it, let's take it from the top!"
Rozlyn hits Play and sets her phone on the shelf behind her, above which hangs a notice from the Homeowner's Association
{{{ ROZLYN DOLOR - PREGAME START }}}
[Now Playing: Paramore - Misery Business]
She nods her head along to the intro, the simple riff repeats itself four time, then
Deep breath innnnn, and out.
"Hit that, hit that snare."
She strikes the snare drum suddenly and violently, launching into the chaotic backing of the second half of the intro, following along with the expanded repeating riff and counting herself in.
3, 2, 1, slow it down.
"I'm in the business of misery let's take it from the top."
She shifts into the less hectic drum section gracefully, undoubtedly having performed this song maybe a hundred times, her voice follows the words perfectly on beat to accentuate this intimate relationship with the song.
"She's got a body like an hourglass it's ticking like a clock"
She rolls her head along her shoulders as one last stretch before facing forwards and speaking "clock" with such vitriol it's undoubtedly personal.
"It's a matter of time before we all run out. When I thought he was mine, she caught him by the mouth!
I waited eight long months, she finally set him free. I told him I couldn't lie he was the only one for me..."
As if.
"Two weeks and we caught on fireeee.
She's got it out for me, but I wear the biggest smiiile."
Ramp it up ramp it up!
Beat, beat, beat on the bass, fill it in across the board aaaand NOW!
With perfect execution she breaks into the chorus section
"WHOA-OOOOO, I never meant to brag, but I got 'im where I want 'im now!
WHOA-OOOOO, it was never my intention to brag. To steal it all away from you nowww."
Ease it, pull it back, shift into lower gear.
She steadies into the slow rhythmic thumping of the chorus exit, prepping herself to drop it all and return to roots once the chorus concludes.
"But God, does it feel so good. 'Cause I got 'im where I want 'im now.
And if you could then you know you woullld.
'Cause God it just feels soooo... it just feels soooo good."
She takes a breath and relaxes her posture slightly in this 1.5 seconds of respite
And we're back.
Launching back into the steady beat from before the chorus, she marches onwards
"Second chances, they don't ever matter, people never change."
She rolls her eyes at something she recalled.
"Once a whore, you're nothing more, I'm sorry, that'll never change.
And about forgiveness we're both supposed to have exchanged..."
No way in Hell.
"I'm sorry honey, but I passed it up, now LOOK THIS WAY!"
She lowers her voice a little, like whispering into someones ear.
"Well there's a million other girls who do it just like you.
Looking as innocent as possible to get to who they want and what they like.
It's easy if you do it right..."
She closes her eyes and braces herself for re-entering the chorus.
"Well, I refuse, I refuse, I REFUSE!!"
Beat, Beat, Beat It On The Bass, Fill It In Across The Board Aaaand NOW!!!
Launching into the chorus even more aggressively than before, there's a much stronger sound of anger, but also one of confidence, of power, of control.
She might associate this song with some shitty people, but this isn't their song. It's her fucking song. This is her moment.
"WHOA-OOOOO, I never meant to brag, but I got 'im where I want 'im now!
WHOA-OOOOO, it was never my intention to brag. To steal it all away from you nowww."
Reign it in Roz.
"But God, does it feel so good. 'Cause I got 'im where I want 'im now.
And if you could then you know you woullld.
'Cause God it just feels soooo..."
Dropping back into the pulsing beat, steady, steady, steady.
"it just feels soooo gooooooooood."
Hectic, more hectic, get that complexity in there.
Keeping the bass drum's steady pulse she fills in the more chaotic accompaniment from the rest of the kit.
"I watched his wildest dreams come true, and not one of them involving you.
Just watch my wildest dreams come true, not one of them, INVOLVIIIING!!"
Go.
Fucking.
Wild.
Rozlyn lets herself completely fall into the groove, living entirely in the moment of this section of no vocals. For these few seconds, the anger can let itself out, becoming pure rhythm and style. Eyes closed visualizing that central beat. Building it, expanding it, blooming like a flower, a rose, thorns on the stem, cut your finger clean open. "Dolor" is a funny last name, "Pain". She's a rose in pain, thorns on the outside to protect her from being held close, a defense, a separation. People won't nip her petals if they're too afraid to touch her. A rosebush in the corner, to be admired and not handled. That's what she wishes she could be. But some people have other plans for her, and they brought gloves. Curses.
Bring it back down Roz.
"Whoa-ooo, I never meant to brag. But I got 'im where I want 'im now."
And back up we go, one more time.
"WHOA-OOOOO, I never meant to brag, but I got 'im where I want 'im now!
WHOA-OOOOO, it was never my intention to brag. To steal it all away from you nowww."
And back down, steady steady beat. Then pull it into the chorus beat.
"But God, does it feel so good. 'Cause I got 'im where I want 'im now.
And if you could then you know you woullld.
'Cause God it just feels sooooooooooooooooooooooo...
It just feels so goood."
One two, three-four---end.
Her phone moves to the next song, "You're Gonna Go Far Kid" by The Offspring, but before the first word can be spoken she reaches behind her and presses pause.
She relaxes in her seat, leaning back and catching her breath, giving a side-eye to the usual handful that watch her performances from a distance, but she hardly acknowledges them.
"Well that was, fun. Nice to fuckinnn... come back to that one once in a while."
Her phone receives a message.
"Goddammit, already? It's only a three minute song, how is he this fast?! Ugh. Finally get the door open and sit down to fucking play, and then Dad's impeccable timing has him having just finished dinner. Up and down and up and down... ...Least he made quesadillas. Guess that makes life worth living."
She sighs and stands up, getting the remote for the door and closing it.
"Wish I could press the button once and just let you do your thing but nooooo."
...'You'...'Your'...
Another one for the door talk tally, who's keeping track?
She yawns and stretches once more, leaving as she entered. Her drums rest to be played another day.
{{{ Rozlyn Dolor to be continued elsewhere... perhaps? }}}