AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Another song flows out of me on the road to Denver. It’s lighter than anything I’ve written, and that gives me a sliver of assurance that maybe something inside of me is finally balancing out.
I want to share my new lyrics with Hail. See how he can improve them. See what we can create together. Heart fluttering, I glance up from my notebook to find the bus already easing to a stop at the next venue.
Startled by the speed at which we arrived, I shut my notebook and tuck it away. Work comes first, above all else.
Atonement is scheduled to play a more intimate show tonight. Back when I used to perform, small places like this were my favourite. The aftermath of those shows didn’t hit me so hard.
Obviously, festivals were the worst for me. Not only were the crowds massive, but the fact that some of them might not receive us well always had me throwing up before we took the stage. Not to mention the increased possibility of technical issues with such little time to prepare between performances.
My gaze snags on Hail, and I cringe at the frustration still brewing in his eyes. I’d been so lost in my little bubble of songwriting that I’d forgotten how I’d pushed him away the other night. He has every right to be upset with me.
Sneaking off the bus without exchanging words, I force my body into the routine of unloading Liam’s equipment and checking all of it for damage after I haul it inside. It’s become almost therapeutic to focus on cleaning, restringing, and tuning his guitars, knowing it’s not me that has to go out there and bare my soul almost every night.
When it’s finally time for Atonement to perform, I watch from the shadows as Hail destroys the fans with his gutturals, holding out growls so vicious, I wonder if the crumbling stone walls will come down on us. Did the engineers of the building take into account demon infestations when they designed it?
I sip at a bottle of water, eyes flitting back and forth between Liam and Hail.
What would it feel like to be on stage for a crowd like this again? My stomach lurches at the thought. Alone, I don’t think I could do it, but with these guys backing me? I’ve never experienced support like they’ve shown me. Would things be different with them?
“Thank you so much, Denver!” Hail shouts into the mic. “I’d like to play you something new tonight if you’re up for it. This was actually written by one of our techs. He’s a very close friend of mine.”
The crowd erupts and my heart sputters in my chest. He couldn’t be talking about me, right? But what if he is? Dread fills my gut.Fuck. What is he thinking? That little comment is going to blow up online. Everyone’s going to be frothing at the mouth to find out who this tech is.
Hail gives a sultry, low laugh, and electricity zings through my body like a live wire. I can’t take my eyes off of him. He strides toward me to switch out his seven string guitar for an acoustic one, sneaking a kiss to my cheek.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He just grins at me, then he grabs a stool and drags it to the centre of the stage under a single pillar of red light.
He begins to play the first song I entrusted to him. The one in the hotel room after he tended to me with such care. Confusion overtakes me. Did the other guys sign off on this? Or did they blindly trust Hail to wing it?
The melody he’s written for my words is… god, it’sperfect. He’s taken something raw and polished it to a shine. When did he work on this? When I was ignoring him? Running off on my own during breaks? Late at night in hotel rooms?
Suddenly, I can’t fucking breathe. My bones sit too heavy in my skin. Part of me is overwhelmed by his act of consideration. The other can’t help but project Lex on that stage, strumming out my song instead of Hail, a reminder of my catastrophic failure.
No.
Whatever off-brand medication I took that morning strangles my brain and churns my stomach. Ironic that the very thing that’s supposed to make me feel better—feelnormal—is fucking throwing me for a loop right now.
Unable to hold back the chilling waves of sickness, I rush off stage and into the hall, seeking out the bathroom. Inside the paint-chipped, fluorescent room that looks like it could be a murder scene, I slam open a stall door and violently spill my guts.
“Take it easy, man!” a guy hollers from another stall.
Oh yeah, good fucking advice. I’ll tell my stupid body that.
When I’m done heaving up stomach acid, I push up off my knees and wash my face with trembling hands. I peek into the dirty mirror, but I don’t see myself. I see my brother. Slightly more angular features from our father’s Asian-Pacific lineage. Green eyes like my mother. An actual smile.
And that’s what fucking wrecks me. Hissmile.
Just when I think I’ve climbed out of this hole, my brain spartan kicks me back in as if to say,remember your place.
Flashbacks of Lex looming at the bottom of a pool crash over me. His arms weightless and hair swaying with the gentle ripples.
I burst out of the side door to the venue and call a cab, not trusting my body to hold me all the way back to the hotel we booked for the evening, and not sure what I plan to do about the fucking ghost in my head.
I only know that I need to forget him. To forget it’s entirely my fault that he’s dead.
Eighteen
