Chapter Text
THE SEVEN
Act I: THE RISE
Track 1: Come As You Are
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On October 10th, 1978,
The Seven performed to a sold-out crowd at the Westopolis Arena in Central City. There were 53,000 people in attendance.
The Seven’s lead vocalist and guitarist, Sonic the Hedgehog, sits down with a thud. He’s bundled in a knit-sweater, with small tracings of a beard lining his muzzle. He swallows – there’s doubt in his eyes, yet not so much for what he is about to tell, but for who will be the ones to find out. The hills of trees behind him blow and bellow softly in the breeze.
He sighs and looks into the camera.
A purple cat, letting a strand of hair fall in her eyes leans into the microphone she’s wearing on her suit coat. Behind her is the backdrop of a sprawling metropolis. She smiles softly, whispering a hoarse, “Testing, testing”.
She looks into the camera.
A white hedgehog in a soft, leather white coat brushes hairs from his eyes. He also sits with a sprawling city in the background, yet the light in the room seems dull. He smiles awkwardly. He is positioned on a comfortable post-modern style chair.
He looks into the camera.
A black hedgehog reclines on a boat, the crashing waves and crying seagulls passing by. He removes his aviators, wiping them off carefully.
He looks into the camera.
The members are all in different locations, yet the setting is the same. A camera, a microphone, and a spotlight of discomfort and dread.
SHADOW: Testing, testing, - one two, one two.
SILVER: Just let me know when you’re ready. [Smiles softly].
A white bat in a low-cut velvet shirt takes a drag from her cigarette. She looks towards the camera, offering a painful smile.
ROUGE: Everything look alright?
Finally, the blue hedgehog speaks.
SONIC: How long is this gonna take?
They were one of the world’s biggest bands at the time, fresh off their multi-platinum, award-winning album “Selene”.
A red Echidna sits on the middle of a couch, hands clasped together as he leans over. He is pensive, quiet, and reserved. With one quick swallow, he looks at the camera.
KNUCKLES: Are we all ready?
The performance at Westopolis Arena would be their final performance.
Amy watches as Sonic takes off his guitar, storming offstage. Cocaine lines his shirt, and she swallows harshly as tears fill her mascara-heavy eyes. She turns, seeing Knuckles staring hard at the ground, ignoring the glaring eyes of Rouge. Silver and Blaze look longingly at one another. Shadow stares at the pedalboard.
Amy sighs, and the crowd goes wild.
In the 20 years since, members of the band and their inner circle of friends and team members have refused to speak about what lead to the breakdown of this once great band…
BLAZE: [sighs] Okay.
KNUCKLES: Let’s get this party started.
SONIC: So… [He takes a pensive look away] Amy also agreed to this?
Until now.
A pink hedgehog calmly buttons the last button on her pink silk blouse, brushing her long, flowing quills to the side as they part in the middle. Her eyes are glossed in shadow, her lips dull and red. She offers a warm smile, yet her eyes betray such a gesture.
This is her moment.
AMY: [sighs] I…I don’t even know where to begin.
S: Start at the beginning. When did you first fall in love with music?
Amy sighs, yet a smile creeps on her face. She remembers it well. All too well.
The year is 1961. The city is Los Angeles.
The room is coated in a dull pink, with floral bedsheets and white curtains flowing in the night wind. The record spins on the player,
A soaring jazz number performed by the brilliant Etta James blares in the headphones of a young, pink hedgehog. Loudly she sings along, without a care in the world whatsoever.
“While there's a moon, a moon up high
While there are birds, birds to fly
While there is you, a-you and I
I can be sure that I love you, oh!”
NACK [Journalist, author of The Rise of Amy Rose]: The remarkable thing about Amy is that she had a very exciting life as a child. Her parents were wealthy, they commonly had house parties, she had everything you could dream of.
The door to the room of the young hedgehog flies open, yet the loudly-belting Rose has no mind to pay attention to such things. What mattered was the words. What mattered was the feeling she got as they played in her ears.
Until the sound of the music stopped.
Her eyes popped open, seeing her mother in a brilliant red-jeweled gown, bending down to her level with a glass of wine and a flickering cigarette. Her eyes held no love, no concern, or appreciation – only anger, and only discontent.
“Do you ever shut up?”
NACK: Yet, Amy Rose was completely alone.
Her mother stole a glance to the door, seeing her like-minded wealthy friends waiting for her. She swallowed, clutching the glass of wine with a harder grip then before.
She averted her gaze back to Amy, pursing her lips tight with a scowl.
“Nobody here wants to hear your voice,” she spat through gritted teeth.
The young Amy only stared at the wall in anguish as her mother stormed out, remarking to her friends in a sing-song voice how her daughter was only put on this Earth to embarrass her.
AMY: [She is pensive, a hint of sadness in her eyes – yet the soft grin never left]. That wasn’t enough to stop me.
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1986, Los Angeles
As she grew up, got older, got wiser – so did her desire for the art of music. Staring herself down in the mirror, the year was 1968, and Amy had turned 15 today. Her parents had no desire to celebrate with her – so she’d find her own celebration.
Sneaking through the large front door, Amy hopped on her bike – kicking off the stand as she sailed down the night streets. The bitter and humid Los Angeles nighttime air pricked at her fur, yet she had no mind to slow down. She knew exactly where she needed to be.
Stopping in the alley, the young hedgehog slid off of her bike, hearing the soaring sounds of guitars inside. She brushed down her floral dress, brushing a few hanging strands from her eyes. She hung back, watching as an older mongoose flicked a cigarette into the night sky, before walking in.
Of course, he paid no mind to shut the door. Amy snickered – here she was.
Pushing her way inside, Amy made her path through the smoke-filled bar. It was crowded, as Amy would have anticipated – yet she knew exactly where she needed to be.
As she drew closer to the stage, the lights hit the back of the band members, catching Amy in a trance. Their voices were forlorn, their guitars were haunting, and the rhythm section kept the mellow song locked in a yet steady tempo.
Amy scoffed with a smile – it was everything she needed.
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1968, Knothole Suburbs
The motion of the strumming was fluid, and the only sound he could hear was the ringing chords of the acoustic guitar in his lap.
He commonly found himself here in the music store ten blocks from his house. It was one of the only places he found peace.
And he was quite content with that.
SONIC: There were two options for the kids in my town. Especially the boys. You either went to work at the power plant or you enlisted in the army. [He chuckles softly]. None of that was quite right for me. No, I wanted something bigger.
The young blue hedgehog darted up the steps of his quaint, two-story suburban home. He pushed the door open, carefully edging his guitar case inside so as to not bang it on any walls.
“There’s my boy!”
Sonic smiled, as his mother hugged him tightly. He chuckled, fighting out of her embrace.
“Jeez, ma, you saw me an hour ago!”
She sighed, ignoring the tears in her eyes. “I know, but you’re just growing up too fast! I can’t keep up!”
Sonic smiled, yet that grin fell when his mother sighed, stealing a glance to the staircase.
“What is it?”
She groaned slightly. “Your brother, he – he’s still in his bedroom. Can you try and make him come out, please?”
Sonic sighed, yet he nodded with a grin as he trudged upstairs. He knew he’d have to get him to his senses sooner or later. He tiptoed carefully to the door, peering his head inside.
There he was – his little brother.
The white hedgehog turned away from Sonic, allowing his five quills to fall into his face slightly. He waved meekly yet kept his eyes on the window.
Sonic sighed, cocking an eyebrow at his younger brother. He looked so much like their dad – a spitting image.
Luckily, that’s where the similarities started and ended.
Sonic sat on the bed, thudding Silver on the knee.
“Dude, you gotta get over it. It’s just a girl!”
“It’s not just a girl!”
“Silver, you’re fifteen years old. There’s going to be many girls in your life. Just let loose! Besides, you can play the bass and the guitar! Double what I can do!”
Silver smiled, yet he rolled his eyes at his brother’s peptalk. Sonic knew getting through to him would be tough, but damnit if he didn’t try a little.
“Girls love dudes who play instruments yanno…”
Silver averted his gaze to Sonic, cocking an eyebrow. He chuckled, yet no realization of what Sonic was planning dawned on him.
KNUCKLES: It was Silver’s idea to start a band, you know! [He chuckles].
Knuckles pushed his dreadlocks behind his head, shaking his head underneath the hot sun. The whistle of the coach blew through the air, yet the echidna had no mind to pay to that – only to the bizarre idea from his white hedgehog friend.
“Where’s this even coming from, man? I mean, a band?”
Silver shrugged, brushing the back of his head. “Chicks love dudes in a band.”
Beside Knuckles, a black hedgehog chuckled, keeping his arms crossed tight to his chest.
“That might be true, but girls love guys in a band who are good. Who’s to say we would be any good?”
“You guys do know Sonic is my brother, right? He knows more about music and songwriting and all that then I could ever dream of knowing!”
“And he would play with measly little novices like us?” Knuckles remarked.
Silver smirked with a shrug, before jogging off. “Won’t know unless we ask!”
SILVER: So, we started rehearsing. The three of us just – jamming in the garage. Shadow on guitar, Knucklehead on drums, and me on bass. I tried to sing – so desperately, but, uh – [chuckles] – I wasn’t good enough, no. Not even that, but we weren’t good enough. It was as obvious as ever that we were missing something.
Shadow sighs, fixing his coat. He stares down at his aviators, before looking back at the camera.
SHADOW: So, Sonic takes the microphone after watching our practices. By the second practice he was our singer. By the third practice – the band was his. [He scoffs]. Fuckin’ guy.
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AMY: I mean, what a time to be alive if you loved music! I saw Zeppelin at the Bowery House, snuck backstage at The Who, saw Cream in the grimiest of bars on their come up! I was fifteen years old, and everything seemed so…amazing. Larger than life.
Amy smiles widely, exhaling an overdramatic sigh of excitement and nostalgia. She shook her head, ignoring the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.
She ponders it all. She remembers the nights like they happened three hours ago. She remembers dancing slowly, moving to the rhythm of the bands in front of her inside the grungiest of bars – yet cladded in her floral dress on her fifteenth birthday the only thing that made a difference was the music in front of her.
And the way the singer’s eyes looked at her.
She remembers it all. She remembers following him to his hotel room with promises to meet the band. She remembers looking around with a smile.
“Where is everybody!?” The excited tone in her voice still rings in her ears.
She remembers him locking the door.
She remembers her face falling in realization.
Amy stares at the camera. The cold smile never leaves her face. Her now dark eyes don’t light back up.
She remembers leaving the hotel, seeing the singer mingling with other women. Were they fifteen like her? Older?
It didn’t matter. The ripples in her body said it all. She walked back home in cold disgrace. It was her fifteenth birthday.
AMY: People said I was naïve. They said I was too trusting. I wasn’t. I was a baby. I was fifteen years old.
As she sauntered coldly in her bedroom, Amy reached for her diary on her bedside table.
There was nothing written inside.
Empty page after empty age – but Amy knew there was too much to say.
“This book belongs to _____.”
Amy stared at the line, twirling the pen between her fingers.
You aren’t you.
Not anymore.
It was time to say goodbye to Amelia Jones.
Clicking her pen, she scribbled in neat-font, and a smile – the first genuine one since she heard the first note of the band play – crept on her face.
“This book belongs to Amy Rose.”
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Brushing the dust from his white turtleneck, Sonic stepped closer to the microphone. He tapped it twice, allowing the ringing feedback to pierce through the backyard party.
Teenagers everywhere – one suburb night under the misty skies.
“Uh, good evening! We are…Spindash. We’re gonna play some songs for you tonight, if that’s alright?”
The moderate crowd of teenagers cheered, red solo cups in hand and smiles on faces. Knuckles counted four in on the ride cymbal, and the band was off.
Shadow ripped a bluesy-lick, with Knuckles and Silver’s steady rhythm pumping paving the way for Shadow and Sonic to take control of the show.
Sonic leaned against the microphone, tapping his foot to the tempo of the kick drum, while moving his head in time with Shadow’s blues-rock noodling.
It was sexy, it was dirty – it was rock and roll.
KNUCKLES: I mean – [chuckles] – we – we must have played like, ten proms, twenty backyard house parties – I can’t even count how many sweet sixteen’s we played!
Sonic whipped his quills back, leaning closer to the microphone. He stole glances at the teenage girls near the front of the makeshift stage. He flashes a flirtatious grin, before croaking out his refrain.
“It’s the way you move.
It’s everything you do.
Oh baby, I love you.
It’s all the things you do.
My darling, dancin’, under the moon,
It’s always you, Susie Sue.”
Shadow allows his fingers to soar in a controlled manner, the blues lick dirty and seductive as it blared through the portable monitors. As crap as it may have sounded – nothing was tighter then the four of them playing together.
SILVER: I mean, back then? It was nothing. It was just an escape. I mean – heh, none of us saw it going anywhere. Not even Sonic…
Silver looks down at his feet. He swallows hard, cracking his neck slightly as his foot taps in a rapid-fire motion.
SILVER: But that all changed one night.
A wedding party wasn’t quite what the band was used too, but nonetheless they were happy to play.
All dressed in the nicest suits they could afford, they played out the same songs they played at every prom, every birthday party, every house party – to them, it was all the same.
And everyone seemed to love it.
Sonic did too, and on that night, he particularly loved it. He crooned, moaned, belted, and shouted his pipes to the roof. He chuckled to himself, stealing glances to the tight fills from Knuckles, the soaring and contained licks from Shadow, and the thumping and steady basslines from Silver.
He nodded with a grin, turning to face the crowd once more.
And his face dropped.
In the middle of the dance floor, a visibly intoxicated older man spun a young teenage girl around, holding her close as he slobbered all over her.
Sonic recognized him immediately.
He watched the man fumble around with her, and all he could think of was how he wanted to storm down there and break his head in. It took every ounce of control he could possibly muster to do so. He couldn’t.
He couldn’t be there.
As the band smashed their final chord, Sonic dropped the microphone and stormed off stage. Pain marked his face, and his eyes met no one’s as he thundered out of the room.
Shadow and Knuckles exchanged confused glances, opting to place their instruments down as they followed behind.
Yet Silver’s eyes remained on the man. How could they not?
After all, he was looking in a mirror.
When Silver finally came to his senses, he rushed offstage, darting out the steel doors that Sonic had just stormed out. Silver followed behind, ignoring his tie as it blew into his face as he ran into the night wind.
“Sonic! Sonic, wait!”
Sonic was breathing heavily, pacing on the concrete grounds. He shook his head, anguish in his eyes. Silver’s face fell – watching him in pain sent shivers down his spine.
Sonic was always complicated, and Silver knew this would throw him for a loop.
“I thought he was supposed to be in Station Square, Silver.”
Silver scoffed, shaking his head. “Well, he’s not, alright? I bet he never fuckin’ left.”
Silver’s voice cracked, and he tried desperately to ignore the tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He had to try. He had to be strong too.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Shadow asked, him and Knuckles carefully striding up to them.
“It’s – it’s nothing, we-“ Silver started, before Knuckles sighed with a smile.
“Dude, what happened? We sounded great tonight! I mean, Sonic you were on fire, Shadow you were fuckin’ rippin’ in there! What gives?”
Silver put his hands on his hips, staring at the ground as tears threatened to spill. He swallowed, biting harshly on his lip.
“Did you guys see that older dude in the plaid suit dancing with the girl half his age?”
Knuckles chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, the creep-ass with the teenager? What about him?”
Silver swallowed, pursing his lips tight. His hollow eyes steered Knuckles off of his typical comic course very quickly.
“Yeah, that’s our dad.”
Silver shuffles uncomfortably, before looking back towards the camera.
SILVER: I mean…I was – six? When he left? I mean, by the time I could consciously remember shit he was gone. So, I mean, I never really had a dad. But…it was different for Sonic. He worshipped the man. With every breath he had, he was praising that man’s name.
Sonic stared at the door, pointing towards it with a shaking fist. He shook his head, gritting his teeth so tight he might break his jaw. He chuckled viciously, before thundering forward.
“I’m gonna say somethin’.”
“Sonic –“ Silver protested, yet his brother had already trudged his way past, pushing the doors open.
“Sonic! Sonic, wai-! Damnit!” Silver cried, darting after him. Shadow and Knuckles exchanged glances, following hurriedly.
Sonic stormed inside, looking around in high search like a hungry predator. He scoffed, until his eyes lie on him, holding the teenage girl in a side hug.
Sonic spat, storming towards him with a fury in his eyes like no other.
Silver was quick behind, arriving just in time for Sonic to get right into his father’s face. Knuckles and Shadow hung back, nervous glances as Sonic stared the man down. The girl scurried off, and Silver could see his inebriated father searching Sonic’s face.
Did he even recognize them?
“Can I help you?” Jules croaked.
“Yeah, you know who I am?” Sonic spat, out of breath and full of fire.
Jules’s eyelids drooped lowly, smirking as he scanned his son’s face.
“I don’t know, do I? Should I?”
“Yeah, you do, and you should.”
Jules stared at his son for a long time, averting his gaze to Silver quickly before turning back to the older brother.
“Of course, I do. I would recognize that guitar anywhere,” he said, pointing to the Gibson acoustic that was propped against the amp. Sonic followed his gaze, before turning back with a fury in his eyes.
Suddenly, he felt small. He felt like a helpless child once more, begging for his father to stay. What could he even say to him now? Does he say what he heard his mother saying to him all those years ago? It infuriated him – how humiliating it was to feel so insignificant to this man standing in front of him now.
With a quick pace, Sonic darted towards the stage, swinging the acoustic in his grasp. Thundering back, he slammed the guitar to his father’s chest.
“You want it? Take it. If you want it so bad, it’s yours.”
Silver grabbed Sonic’s shoulders, attempting to pull him away. “Come on, he’s not worth it.”
“No – I see it now. You want it, so take it. It’s more then you ever wanted us, Dad.”
The harsh spit in his voice radiated between the two men. Jules merely stared at him, and the sly gaze made Sonic’s blood boil even hotter.
“I said to fucking take it!” Sonic yelled, his anger reverberating through the room as he shoved the guitar towards his father once more.
“I don’t have any use for it. I gave it to you. It’s something to remember me by.”
In a flash, Sonic grabbed the guitar and swung it over his shoulder, smashing it to bits on the tile. The guitar broke in half, the sound of wood splitting crackling throughout the room. Sonic lifted his boot, taking two more massive steps onto the body of the instrument before spitting at his father’s foot.
“There you go, dickhead. That’s what I think about remembering you.”
Sonic stormed off, leaving Shadow, Knuckles, and Silver to watch him leave. Silver was crushed – how quickly had the resolve of his older brother, the one he always looked up to, been shattered by the callous man in front of them.
Silver turned, and his usually meek eyes were now filled with the same rage.
He stared his father in the eye, breathing heavily. They said nothing, and Silver nodded.
Reeling his fist back, he socked his father in the jaw, the cracking of tooth and bone sounding as he was sent to the ground.
Cries from the guests sounded as they watched Jules thunder to the floor. Knuckles and Shadow sprang to action, grabbing Silver by the shoulders and escorting him out.
“Come on, come on!” Shadow whispered, breezing their way through the crowd as they watched Silver with fearful and confused glances.
As the band funneled their way outside, Silver shook his fist out, with Shadow following behind to check on him. Knuckles shook his head with a chuckle, watching as Sonic stared up towards the stars in the barren night sky.
“Guess we’re not getting paid for that one, huh?” Knuckles remarked.
Shadow and Silver turned back, with nervous glances towards their frontman.
“Sonic, are you okay man?” Shadow muttered, concern in his eyes.
Sonic continued staring at the sky, his eyes sparking with dreams and desire. Something shifted. Seeing his father making a mockery of his son set a fire in him like no other.
Silver noticed it too.
SILVER: Oh, I remember it like it was yesterday. That was it for Sonic. I mean – I can remember the look on his face. That was the night this all became much more then an escape. It became real for Sonic that night.
“Guys, come here,” Sonic muttered, gesturing for the three to surround him. They looked on at Sonic nervously, studying his face as it drooped towards the ground.
He bit the sides of his cheek, nodding to himself. This was it.
He dreamed of something more then power plants. He dreamed of something more then army enlisting, then working at the laundromat – and tonight was the moment he knew his dreams didn’t mean nothing.
“You’re my brothers, alright? I love you all. We work hard, we stick together – we take care of each other. Like family, alright? We’re not going to let this be it, alright? We’re gonna go higher.”
Sonic smirked, a clench in his jaw accompanied by a raw passion in his eyes like no other.
“We’re gonna be the biggest fucking band in the world.”
Sonic looked around at the three of them, seeing their once nervous looks begin to share that same passion.
“Do you guys trust me?” Sonic asked.
There was silence for a moment, before Knuckles stepped up, slapping his hand on his shoulder.
“Of course, man. Always have.”
Shadow snickered, cocking an eyebrow. “Against my better judgement with you, faker, I do.”
Silver was hanging back slightly. Sonic. Shadow, and Knuckles were older brother figures to him. He trusted the three older teenagers with his life – no matter what they said to do.
So, he bit his lip, smiled, and nodded.
“Absolutely.”
The four huddled together, laughing and hollering into the night as they stuck close.
“Family forever,” Sonic muttered, earning cries of laughter and agreement from the three other men. They threw their heads back, jumping in excitement with a new passion for music, family, and fire.
This world would be theirs if they so wanted it to be.
Sonic smiled, looking out to the hills. He rubbed his beard lightly, nodding to himself.
SONIC: I really believed it too. I really believed we’d be the biggest band in the world…
He stops, as a somber smile creeps on his face. The smile of knowing what would come into his life, and what would only become of his dream. The sadness in his eyes remained, as did the smile.
SONIC: …I believed it even before I met Amy.