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Rhyit shrugs and lifts his hand, giving it a wobble in a kinda motion.
“I don’t think that’s a song we should do half-cocked.” Boston says.
“Well…let’s practice it real quick and see what we think.” Rhyit says, looking from me to Boston.
“What do you want for music?” I ask as he turns around.
“Whatever you feel like. You wanna jump into a power band? Go for it.” He nods to Boston. “You wanna beat the shit out of your drums, go for it.” He nods to me. “Let’s let it all out, guys. Everything you’re feeling, let it out. If you feel like singing along, jump in. This song won’t be the same every single time and I think..” he stops, his head tilting up to the scaffolding above us, and he lets out a long exhale, “I think that’s how he would have wanted it.”
I nod my head, so does Boston. “I’ll follow your lead.” Rhyit says into the mic. My head swivels to Boston, and he shrugs giving me an ‘I don’t fucking know’ look.
I count us in, my sticks clacking aggressively before dropping into a combination that echoes loudly across the empty arena.
“Goodbyes aren’t supposed to be easy.” Rhyit starts as Boston gives a low bass strum.”I know this much is true.” Doom doom, Boston gives a quick down beat as I tap against my heads with minimal force. The three of us fall into a rhythm as Rhyit belts the lyrics out into the microphone. I pound on my drums, letting every ounce of hurt and grief and guilt out of my body. Sweat pours down my face as I close my eyes and imagine Alex’s face the last time I saw him. The anguish he held in his eyes causes me to push myself harder, my arms moving so quickly there’s no way in hell I’d be able to duplicate this combination. I hear Rhyit’s guitar and Boston’s bass, but they feel far away, like I’m underwater, and I can hear the music at the surface, but I can’t get there. I let the emotion pull me under, sinking further and further into my own pain that I don’t realize the guys have stopped until my drums are the only sound I hear. A low cry rings out, and I don’t realize it’s me crying until I stop. My eyes flutter open, wet tears sit on my cheeks as I lift my head. My arms stop moving, a muscle cramps in my neck, and as I look up I find both boys staring at me with mixed concern. A small crowd has formed in front of the stage, other musicians coming to see what all the commotion was, no doubt.
My chest heaves from exertion, I gulp the air that I deprived from my body.
“That was amazing.” Rhyit says, his eyes wide. The crowd in front of us claps and whistles their approval, and I blush, embarrassment creeping through me. I got lost in the music, in the emotion.
*******************************
“You need to tell him.” Boston says as we sit under the pavilion. His blue eyes hold mine, compelling me to spill the truth to Rhyit.
“I know,” I whisper, “I just don’t know how.”
“Words are a good place to start. You could write him a letter, or a song, maybe? Hey Rhyit, I know you missed me, I’m so sorry I let Alex-“ I clamp a hand over his big dumb mouth before he blurts out more information.
“Shut the hell up.” I hiss, I feel his tongue hit my palm as his eyes narrow at me.Gross.I pull my hand away from his mouth and wipe the spit on his T-shirt.
“Why are you perpetually eleven years old?” I roll my eyes, Boston has been the goofball of this group for as long as I can remember. He and Alex would come up with the worst practical jokes.
“Listen, I’m going to be twelve next week.” He smiles and winks. I rub my temples, exhausted from his theatrics and the weight of the truth I know I need to spill.
“What if I never tell him?” I say perking up.
“What if he finds out in ten years and hates you for it after you have wombmates and a white picket fence?” Boston quips, cocking his head to the side. “Just fucking tell him, he’s probably not going to be that mad, I mean there’s nothing you can do about it now. He’s probably only going to be mad that you didn’t tell him sooner.” He nods, agreeing with himself.
I push my hair to one side and rub my sweaty palms together. I scan the pavilions looking for Rhyit, there’s so many damn people here that I stretch my neck hoping to at least see the top of his head somewhere. I hop off the chair and stand on it to get a better look around. You would think it would be easy to find a tall guy with long black hair and a red bandana tied around it, but that seems to be the fashion choice of the day. I scan the crowd looking left and right but don’t spot him anywhere. I shuffle my feet on the canvas chair to turn around to scan the other side, but as I cross my ankles to spin around, my boot catches the part of the chair you normally use for back support. I wobble once and then twice, my balance faltering. I grasp the air hoping to grab on to something to balance myself. My stomach lurches as I start to fall towards the pavement, my body tenses, bracing for impact, but…it never comes. A low oof leaves the person whose arms I’m wrapped in.
“We gotta stop meeting like this, babe.” Whispers a familiar voice. I open my eyes, realizing I’m not dead or broken. Bright gray blue eyes meet mine, Alder smiles at me as he holds my body bridal style with one arm under my head and the other holding up my knees. I stare up at him, thankful he saved me from hitting the ground.
“Thank you.” I whimper. “You can put me down now.” I giggle. Why am I giggling?
“I kinda like you like this.” He twirls me around once before placing me back on my feet slowly. I feel a smile pull at the corners of my mouth when he sets me back down.
“I was just coming over to say hi when I saw you start to fall. I hope I didn’t scare you.” He says softly, pushing his blonde hair out of his face.
“No, you’re fine. Thank you for catching me. That would have hurt.” I laugh, nervousness bubbling in me.
“I saw you at sound check earlier, you fucking killed it.” His voice raises an octave. “I’ve never seen anyone play like that, it was incredible.” Heat flushes my cheeks at his compliment.
“Thanks, I kind of got lost in the beat.” I bite the dead skin on my bottom lip.
“I could tell, you looked like you were in the zone.” He smiles at me, and butterflies flurry in my stomach.
“Yeah.” I agree, pushing my hair to one shoulder.
“Alder, right?” Boston says coming out of nowhere. I forgot he was here, wait, why didn’t that asshole catch me? He holds his hand out for Alder to shake, and the look on Alder’s face is comical. It’s a combination of adoration and respect.
