Page 79 of Unfinished Noise

Jamie sat in a plastic chair near the far wall, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.

Spencer rushed over. “Jamie.”

Jamie didn’t look up at first. His jaw clenched tight. “You shouldn’t have given him my guitar.”

Spencer crouched in front of him. “It’s my backup one.”

“No, it’s my new guitar,” Jamie said. “And it’s always you that fixes everything for him.”

Spencer took a slow breath. The pool hummed quietly behind them, water shifting in soft ripples. The sharp scent of chlorine mixed with a suffocating tension in the air.

“This wasn’t emotional,” Spencer said. “It was a band decision.”

Jamie finally met his eyes. His expression held frustration, hurt, and something deeper Spencer couldn’t name. “It felt emotional.”

“It wasn’t,” Spencer said. “Billy needs a guitar. We need him ready. That’s all it was.”

Jamie leaned back in the chair, shoulders loosening a little. “I just… I don’t like seeing you do anything for people who don’t treat you right.”

Spencer sat beside him. “I get that. But this wasn’t about him messing up. It was about keeping Black Shadows together for Rocktoberfest.”

Jamie let out a long breath. “I know all about that.”

“Why are you still upset then?”

Jamie pushed out of his chair so fast it scraped across the tile. “You gave him my new guitar,” he repeated, voice sharp. “Not your backup.”

Spencer blinked. “I gave him the guitar in my case. Your new one was in the other case.”

Jamie’s laugh came out short and humorless. “No. You forgot you told me I could switch cases. And I did.”

Spencer’s stomach dropped. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Jamie’s glare cut through the humid pool air. “I did! I told you in the room it was my guitar. You obviously forgot what you agreed to.”

Spencer rubbed his forehead. “Shit. I guess I did. Sorry. It’s an easy fix.”

Jamie’s eyes narrowed. “Is it?”

The question hung there, heavy and pointed, and not about the guitar at all. Spencer felt the weight of it settle in his chest. Jamie was really ticked off about the mix-up. He was angry about the way things always seemed to tilt, the way Billy’s mistakes became everyone else’s emergencies.

But Jamie didn’t say that. He didn’t have to. His tone already told Spencer everything he wasn’t saying out loud.

Spencer nudged his knee lightly. “Hey, you ran off pretty fast.”

“You pissed me off pretty fast.”

Spencer huffed a small laugh. “Fair.”

Jamie’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. “I didn’t want to yell in front of everyone.”

“I didn’t want you upset,” Spencer said.

Jamie looked at him again, softer this time. “So, you say.”

Spencer swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat before he forced them out. “I say so… believe it, Jamie.” His voice came out firmer than he meant—low, strained, almost a plea instead of a shout. The sound barely carried in the quiet pool room, but the seriousness behind it landed heavily between them.

They sat there for a moment, the quiet settling around them, the pool lights reflecting off the water like shifting stars.