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“He wrote another verse,” Casey croaked as the audience surged to their feet. His heart felt so full it couldn’t possibly fit in his chest. “He wrote another verse for me.”
Ty swiped a hand under his eyes and then grabbed Casey in a tight hug. “Thank you.” He let go and stumbled back, narrowly missing Randolph Scott’s tail. “I’ve, uh, gotta go. I’ll… yeah. Bye.” He hurried away.
The rest of the set went by in a blur. Dimly, Casey realized they’d divided the set into roughly three categories—Dev’s songs, Haru’s songs, with a couple of unusual covers, including a jazzed up, a cappella version of “Moonlight in Vermont,” with Haru beat-boxing instead of an instrumental break.
When they rose at the end of the set, the applause was thunderous and the cheers could probably be heard in Merrilton. Dev and Haru bowed and waved, then Dev slung an arm across Haru’s shoulders and they walked offstage, each gripping the neck of their guitar.
“Holy shit,” Owen said. “Haru’s songs are epic. I don’t know why Nash won’t let the band play them.” When Casey raised both eyebrows, Owen patted the air. “Right, right. Nash is a dickhead. I’ll have the T-shirts made up by Monday.” He winked. “I’ll put you down for two.”
“Mmmphmmm.”
Casey, still dazed from the performance, turned at the sound of that quintessential Home grunt to find Pete standing next to him, munching a rustic raspberry tart. Pete nodded at Casey.
“For a fool kid, you did all right.” He turned and sauntered away, Randolph Scott trotting beside him, clearly hoping for crumbs.
“Wow.” Kenny’s whisper was somehow loaded with awe. “He called you a fool kid.”
Casey, who had been a little resentful that Pete had tempered his compliment with that back-handed epithet, turned to him. “Is that good?”
“He only calls people fools if he considers them part of the town. Otherwise, they’re just flatlanders.” He grinned and tapped Casey’s biceps with his fist. “Guess you’re home.”
Casey gazed at the stage, where Dev and Haru had returned to take another bow at the audience’s insistence. “Yeah.” He was pretty sure his heart was floating in the air over his head by this time. “I guess I am.”
Soaring on post-performance endorphins, a rush he’d nearly forgotten, Dev handed off his guitar to one of Kenny’s high school roadies. He gave Haru a hug—not the bro-backslap kind, but a real one.
“Great show, man, even if I do say so myself.”
Haru returned the hug and then stepped back. Judging by the size of his grin, he was flying as high as Dev. “I think the audience said it first.”
“We’ve gotta do it again.”
Haru’s grin faded a little, turning wistful. “Do you mean it?”
“I do.” Dev looked down at him. “But I’ve got to tell you, I’m fixed here in Home. I don’t want to tour. I don’t want to deal with the assholes in the music business anymore. Making music? Yeah. Being a rock star? No.” He chuckled. “Not that I think I’d ever get there, but—”
“Don’t sell yourself short.” Haru moved out of the way as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Roadies hauled the next act’s equipment onstage. “But I’m right there with you on the touring and the industry shit. We wouldn’t have to go that route, though. I told you I’ve got my own recording equipment?” When Dev nodded, Haru bit his lip. “It’s a little more than that. Like a lot. I’ve produced albums for other local artists. That’s what I did before Nash hired me for POV.”
Unbelievably, Dev’s post-performance rush stepped up a level. “Really? You’d be willing to do that?”
Making music, recording music, capturing the spark of performance for others, even when they weren’t actually present… That was a dream he’d followed from the time he’d stepped onstage with his guitar at his first grade school talent show. He thought he’d lost it when he left POV to take up the Harrison mantle in Home. If he could have that again…
Dev came back to earth with an almost audible crash. “But you’ve got the POV touring schedule. And like I said, I’m fixed here in Home.”
Haru looked out at the sliver of the field visible from their spot in the wings. “I’m pretty sure I’m out of POV. In fact, I’ll quit before Nash has the chance to fire me.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. “I’m sure. I’ve found something I like better.” He sighed, a sound of deep contentment. “I’ve found Home.”
“You’re serious? You want to stay?” Dev grinned and clasped Haru’s hand. “That’s fantastic. I’ve got several houses you could—” Dev spotted Casey standing next to the willow tree. “Hold that thought, okay? We’ll talk.”
Leaving a bemused Haru, Dev ran down the steps at the side of the stage and raced across the grass. He caught Casey up in a hug and whirled in a circle.
“Dev,” Casey said, laughing. “Put me down.”
Dev looked into Casey’s face, his heart so full he felt like he could light Main Street all summer long. “Not yet.” He danced around in a circle some more.
“Okay, but at least stop twirling me around. I’m getting dizzy.”
