“Well, it was a good choice.”Ry glanced at each of them.“I even think I might want to write something.I’ve been itching.”
“Shit,” Lon said, whistling.“For real?”
Brand raised an eyebrow, and Alex gave him a strange look.
Ry wiped the hair from his eyes.“The therapy sessions and constant journalling have been productive and freeing.”
“Nice,” Alex said.“Found them useful too.”
“No lyrics yet,” he said, “but I’ve got ideas bouncing around in the old noggin.By the way, Arend came by yesterday, anyone know anything about that?”
Brand shook his head.
“Nope,” Lon said.“Haven’t really seen him much since the tour.Why?”
“He’s plotting something,” Alex said, his voice tinged sour.
“No, I am,” Ry laughed.“Idea’s still coming together, though.Anyway, do you wanna have a tour or just go to the cafeteria?”
Lon said, “I could use another cup of coffee or food.”
Alex shrugged.
“All right, then,” Brand said, slapping his thighs and standing up.“Shall we?”
Brand and Lon trailed behind him and Alex as they walked back through the main entrance.Ry exchanged small talk with Alex during the short walk.Returning to the cool air, they found the lobby, which had once bustled, sparsely populated; clusters of people drifted through the wide halls or out in the garden.The cafeteria's usual midday clamor had subsided, leaving a quieter, more relaxed atmosphere.Brand and Lon grabbed coffee first, then split.Lon and Alex headed for the snacks, while Ry and Brand stood before the glass counter, the carefully wrapped sandwiches arranged alongside crisp salads.
Lon snagged a table in the back, one that still boasted floor-to-ceiling windows.Through the window, Ry watched as people walked along the paths or chatted in small groups.A few passersby, their faces briefly illuminated by the shifting sunlight, did a few double-takes, their gazes lingering on him and the band, then darting away.
Over the course of the next hour, they talked about the old times back in high school, a familiar comfort Ry hadn't felt in ages.Lon, once so easy-going, seemed tense.Alex looked tired, the darker circles under his eyes spoke of battles fought and lost.Brand sat up straight in his posture, his movements tight and controlled.Still, underneath the changes, the core of them hadn’t changed, and for that he was glad.
He’d become a monstrous version of himself, transformed by grief, pressure, and addiction.Being here with his friends, with Alex, brought back memories of a lifetime ago.As much as he wanted to return them all to those times, he could only focus on healing and offering to make the future better.
Suddenly, the money, the fame, all of it fell away, became unimportant.Visions of Lon working at the bar with Mindy, Brand employed at an IT firm, Alex behind the desk of a library and smelling of books.And Ry himself would have been a lawyer, following in his father’s footsteps.In this timeline, they would all hang out on the rare weekend, possibly a couple of times a year.He and Alex would camp in the Oregon forests, cursing the rain that would inevitably come.There would be marriages and children’s birthday parties, maybe late-night evenings conversations.For a moment, he wanted that for them, for himself.A simpler life.Normal worries and fears.
But that outcome was long gone now.Other futures lay ahead, and perhaps he could have one of them.He could dream of a future on stage with them, holding Alex’s hand the way he meant it to be the first time.
When the moment came to say goodbye, he hugged each of his friends tightly and wished them a safe drive.Hopefully, the letters would help them heal too, as they had helped him purge the inner inadequacies of his own life.It was all he had, and it had to do.
CHAPTER 16: PAST
Ry crouched at the end of the stage, checking the marks again.Tonight would be the first show since the breakup.So far, setup had been a pain in the ass and nothing had gone well.Lon barely said anything to him.Brand only watched him in between setting up his own gear.Alex refused to be on stage with him, at least until it came time to perform.So Ry had come out last, after Alex had finished.
This was not how it was supposed to be.
Alex had already moved out of their shared room and the house, leaving an emptiness behind.The same grayness had followed him here to the venue.Brand would soon follow.Lon might stay, but he hid whenever they were both home at the same time.
Ry finished checking his mics and marks and left for Alex to have another chance to double-check his sound before the show started.He headed to the small green room and sat on the old, musty couch.He had the place to himself, and so he poked around on his phone, trying to distract himself.
The stage manager knocked twice on the open door and beckoned Ry out.He shut his eyes and breathed deep.This will be like any other performance.He got up and rolled his neck a few times, popping some of the stiffness out.He fought to suppress the discordant ache in his chest as he headed out.
Lon sat at his drum kit, concentrating.His hands smashed thin air as he practiced.Brand stood behind the keyboard, massaging his hands.Alex was on the opposite end of the stage, his guitar already on and his bass in a stand next to him.He took his mark at the mic, staring at the scrim between the audience and them.
A quiet voice came on the headset, “Three, two, one.”
Lon started a snare roll, progressing the drum to a frenzied pace.Alex strummed hard, and Brand joined the melody.
Ry sang.
