Chapter 1
—Chase—
“I’ll take that was ASS for 1,000, Alex,” echoes from the back of the stage. I turn quick enough to see Adam with his hands around his mouth, mega-phone style, even while holding his drumsticks. I close my eyes tight and sigh heavily. He’s not wrong. Yeah. That WAS absolute shit. The fragmented bits of rehearsal we are putting out today are literally killing me. How in the literal fuck are we going to be ready for our first show if we can’t get through one single rehearsal, let alone one song as a full band? I have no one to blame but myself, I KNOW, but shit. Shit, shit, shit.
I can’t ruin the best thing to happen to me before it even starts. Heated sweat beads off of my temples, but I welcome the distraction of letting it slip down my face slowly as I place the mic back in the stand. I truly can’t keep this up even though I know this bullshit is my fault. The tension on this stage is so thick, as Adam would say, you could smack it’s ass. God, I’ve been around the boys for too long. It’s like a game of chess anymore, everyone avoiding each other to avoid awkwardness, but only creating more and making the tour rehearsal look like a failure. We have to find a way forward, I swallow down. You need to fix this, I repeat, forcing myself to do what needs to be done and put my foot down.
“THAT’S IT. ALL HANDS ON DECK!” I scream into the mic, cutting my eyes to the sound booth, past the first section of seats.
A certain dark haired guitarist immediately locks eyes with me. We have been going to these rehearsals for almost 2 weeks so far and every single freaking one has been a disaster- in terms of actually coming together to give a cohesive performance of any kind. The guys of course are gold, but add me to the mix, new songs, new arrangements, and the new elements of the tour….I mean there’s work to do. Jesse has found a way for us to collectively not be on the stage together at any given point. Plus, I haven’t given an actual performance with the band yet. Opening night will be the first one. We worked for two months on some of these songs. One is even set to be released as a single as the tour starts. All of this pressure is building and I know someone is going to explode. Ok that someone is likely to be me at this rate, and I am not going to make any of the tabloid headlines any more true than they are.
“Yeah, you. Get up here. I can’t do this anymore. Your fans deserve the best. You trusted me and accepted me as a part of your band. I can’t do any of it if we don’t actually do….this! Ok, we busted our asses on these songs. Please,” I breathe out, knowing my face is turning pink, but not caring. Not anymore. This is bigger than me. This is bigger than me and Jesse. I can see his jaw tighten and flex, but he nods and moves to walk this way.
“You know," Avery whispers next me before I even realize he’s moved beside me, “this might get a little rough.” I pull out my other ear piece and angle my sweat soaked head in his direction, briefly admiring his sweat soaked self as well, the sleeveless, white ripped shirt clinging to his body. I shrug, “Then rough it is.”
The sinking feeling of panic swirls around in the pit of my stomach, that one that feels I’ve lost something I’ll never find again. If it gets a little rough to find a place for me and Jesse to be ok again, well, buckle up ya'll.
—-JESSE—-
“Let’s take it from the top!” his soothing, polished voice rakes over my exposed nerves like sharp, jagged nails on an old, dirty chalk board.
Let’s fucking not, and say we did.
I clench my eyes shut and wipe the fresh layer of sweat from the back of my neck, trying to ignore Avery’s nagging for the hundredth time this set as I take my place on stage. Not an easy task for a rehearsal, but oddly doable when one is seething with bitterness like I am.
Ok, seething might be a tad dramatic, but I do have a flare for being over the top at times. And kiss my ass, this is the time I feel like it.
“So, are we starting at the beginning of the set or just the last song?” Chase asks, confused, but confident. I hate that I know that tone and inflect to her voice. It pulls at something deep in me. Fuck my life. Hiding in the sound booth was working so well. I pretend I don’t hear it. I tilt my head back and shut my eyes again, warm beads of sweat rolling down my forehead as I slowly rub my temples.
I am not in the mood for this today. Wasn’t yesterday, or the day before that, and oh look there, forecast indicates it’s not looking good for tomorrow either. Time heals all wounds my ass. Time can suck my— “Jess? You ready?” she asks, her voice so sickeningly sweet that my insides cringe at the sound. I never thought in a million years that I could dislike that sound. “I really want this to feel like it will when we perform; this was so much fun to record; I just - I feel like we haven’t…Ready?″ Chase’s melodic voice trails off.
My lips form a grim smile and I nod in her direction, careful not to stare too long. Staring reminds me of things I shouldn’t think about. Things that never should have happened, and things that weeks should have erased by now. Things that can never happen again. But it’s like tropical storm Chase tore right through me and I’m still not put back together right.
