AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“So, when can you come by and lay this shit down?” Devin asked, clasping his hands beneath his chin.
“Uh …” I glanced at Dad, who responded with a shrug, as if to say,Whenever you want. “I can be there as soon as you guys are able.”
Devin seemed to hesitate before holding up a finger. “Can I make a suggestion?”
“This guy and his freakin’ suggestions,” Simon groaned sardonically, raising his eyes upward. “You’d think he was some kind of hotshot or something.”
Dave and Greyson snorted in reply, but I ignored them and said, “Shoot.”
“Nothing against these fine gentlemen,” Devin said, gesturing toward the screen. “But maybe you wanna fly solo on that last one. I think it’d have more of an impact, coming from you alone.”
I wasn't sure about that. From day one, it had been Simon, Dave, and me. Greyson hadn't shown up until later, but he was no less a part of our family. We'd grown up as a united force and gone through multiple circles of hell, including my accident and Dave's battle with alcoholism. To ask them to sit out completely on any of our songs felt like treason, and I wasn’t sure I could hop on board.
As I set the guitar aside, I shook my head and said, “I dunno about that, man …”
“What?” Dave exclaimed. “Why the hell not?”
I glanced at the computer screen to see the look of disbelief blanketing his face. My gaze bounced to Greyson and Simon then, only to find they'd taken on similar expressions.
“I don't doanythingalone,” I said, speaking not to Dave, but to Devin. “This isn't Dylan Pierce and the Angels of the Silences.Weare the band,allof us.”
Simon snorted, leaning back to fold his arms behind his head. “You're sweet, D, and I love you, but let's be real here, okay? This entire album is about you, and I'm saying that in the nicest way possible.”
Devin's lips were pressed into a thin line as he watched the consequences of his suggestion unfold while Dad got up and quietly walked away.
This was between me and the guys.
“It's aboutallof us,” I disputed, furrowing my brow. “It's our comeback, for crying out loud.”
“Yeah,” Dave replied, nodding slowly with sage and wisdom, as if considering the statement. “But it's also your rebirth.”
“The hell are you talking about?” I asked, not intending to laugh at Dave's choice of terminology.
“It's your evolution,” Simon chimed in, leaning toward the screen and taking the lead, as he usually did. “You said it yourself, man. This shit is different than what we've done before, and we're all good with it. But that change isn't coming from any of us; it's all you. And we're here for it, one hundred percent, but you can't say we've had a whole lot to do with it. ‘Cause we haven't.”
The ticking of the clock on the wall was the only indication that any time was passing at all as I stared ahead at the faces of my friends and the man pushing all the buttons of my career.
We’d recorded our first EP when we—Simon, Dave, and I—were nineteen. Our first full studio album didn't come until we were twenty-one. But all the songs from the infantile stage of our band and all the songs since had been written by all of us. There was no disputing that I was the primary songwriter, but the other guys were always involved in the process. I'd ask them for their input, and they'd throw in a lyric here and there. It was always a group effort … until now.
“Why didn't one of you say something?” I asked, feathers ruffled and annoyed with my friends.
Dave pointed a finger toward me. “Because you needed it,” he replied softly. “We all recognized you were healing, so we let you.”
I reached out and gently ran my finger along the length of the space bar. Back and forth as I chewed on my lip and contemplated whether to rip each of them a new one or thank Christ for giving me some great friends.
“So, get your ass up to Connecticut,” Simon concluded. “Record that fucking song, and let's get this album finished. 'Cause I dunno about you assholes, but I'm ready to get back on the fucking road.”
***
Dad and I decided that we’d drive up that weekend, and I’d lay the track down. I couldn't imagine it taking longer than a day. Two, tops. If we were ambitious enough, we could do the trip without staying anywhere overnight, but Devin had insisted we be his guests.
It didn't take much convincing for Mom to agree to come. For the first time since I had been a kid, we were taking a trip as a family, and I was surprised to be looking forward to it.
I was looking forward to a lot. A new album, a tour, time on the road with my friends. Things were beginning to feel closer to normal, like the way they used to be, yet every now and then, I would stop and consider if things would ever be normal again.
But had anything ever been truly normal before?
It wasmynormal, and it was comfortable—the way you could find comfort in that old baby blanket, riddled with holes, barely able to cover your shoulders. But there was nothing typical about sleeping with a tattered blanket the size of a washcloth, so was there anything normal and right about the way things had been then? Barely home, on the road all the time, sleeping with different women on a regular basis …
