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Abel
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“House of Blues. I don’t know, man. I’ve only played one show since I’ve been back. I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
I shift my cell phone to my other ear just in time to hear Rob’s reply. “You’d really be helping me out. I’ve got a sold-out show booked and no opening act.”
I hesitate. Even if I did feel like I was up to it, I haven’t been back to House of Blues since the night I met Finley. It’s where we shared our first kiss. Where we laughed and danced and sang the night away. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to walk into that place again.
“I can double what we usually pay for the night. I’m that desperate.”
“Rob, I just...”
“Please just say yes.”
“I don’t think I can, man.” I pace around my living room still lined with boxes. I’ve been back in Chicago for nearly a week, yet the only things I’ve really unpacked are clothes, towels, and a few bedroom items. Everything else is still piled throughout my new apartment.
“Tell you what, you do this for me and not only will I double your pay, but you can drink for free the entire night.”
“It’s not about the money, or the booze.”
“Abel, you’re just coming back onto the scene. Don’t turn down an opportunity to put your name back in people’s mouths. It’ll help you gain momentum and you know it.”
He has a point. A very good point in fact. I mull it over. Every fiber of my being screams no while the logical side of me knows I can’t refuse.
“Okay,” I cave.
“You’ll do it?”
“I will. But I’m not coming in until last sound check and I’m leaving as soon as my set is over.” There’s no way in hell I’m going to hang out there any longer than I absolutely have to.
“Sounds good. Be here by six. Set starts at seven-thirty. And thank you. I owe you one.”
“No problem. I’ll see you tonight.” I end the call before sinking back onto the couch I retrieved from storage yesterday.
To say I’ve been dragging my feet is the understatement of the year. I don’t know why I’m doing it. I don’t know why I don’t unpack and get it over with already. I’ve made the decision to stay so there’s no need to prolong it. I want to be here. I want to be close to my family, my friends, and Claire.
I look around the sparse space. It’s not as nice as my old apartment but it’s still one of the nicer complexes in the area and is only a couple blocks away from where I used to live so I’m familiar with my surroundings.
“Tomorrow,” I mutter to myself.
Tomorrow I will unpack and resettle. Tonight I have a show to play. And while I feel nauseous as hell about the thought of going back there, a part of me, a very small part, is a little excited. House of Blues is one of the best stages to play on. Not to mention the exposure.
It’s never been my goal to chase fame. I don’t want it, nor do I need it. But playing? That I do need. And playing at House of Blues ensures I can land other gigs around the city. While most people still know me from before, there have been a lot of changes. New management, new staff. Nearly every place I went to this past week was manned by someone I had never met. Walking into a place you’ve been to a hundred times before and feeling like a complete outsider. It’s weird.
I guess that’s what happens when you up and disappear for three years.
Letting out a deep sigh, I peel myself off the couch and head toward the bathroom. If I want any hope of getting there on time, I better get my ass in the shower and get a move on.
——
Everything is exactly as I remember it. From the gold fixtures to the eclectic art, not one single thing has changed. I look around the room from my place on the stage. The crowd is electric tonight. Deafening. I pull and thrive on their energy.
I manage to make it through my forty-five-minute set without any hiccups. I won’t lie and say that I didn’t look out into the crowd several times and see Finley’s face on every single person looking back at me because I did. But I used it to push me, not hinder me.
I thought being here would be painful, but in reality, I feel closer to her tonight than I have in a very long time. Maybe that’s been my mistake all along. Running from the memories instead of embracing them.
After talking to some of the guys backstage, I decide to stay and have one drink. I haven’t had one since the shit show that was my brother’s bachelor party and honestly, I could use something to take the edge off.
Exiting out the side doors, I slip into the main hall and head directly for the bar. A few people stop me to congratulate me on a great show, while a few others insist I get a picture with them. I smile and nod as graciously as I can, and while they seem to buy every second of it, it feels so fake I can barely stand myself.
I’ve almost reached the bar when a familiar voice washes over me from behind.
“What the fuck?” I turn just in time to see Aaron close in on me. “I didn’t know you were playing here tonight.” He shoves at my shoulder.
“It was a last-minute thing. What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, knowing this isn’t his usual scene.
“I came with Henna and one of her friends.”
“Who?” I question.
“Henna. You know, the girl with the long black hair. The one you were talking to last week at Pulsations?”
“The one who was trying to get me to fuck her friend?” I question. “Yeah, I remember.”
“She what?” He chokes out a laugh.
“Never mind. I didn’t know you liked Alternative music.”
“It’s okay. I’m not really here for the music.” He smirks.
“I see.” I bite back a laugh.
“You sounded amazing up there, by the way. I can’t remember how long it’s been since I’ve seen you play.”
“Probably since I was a teenager.”
“Probably. Maybe you should tell me when you have a gig and I can come see you more often. You’re pretty fucking talented.”
“Thanks.” I nod, thinking this might be the first time any of my brothers have actually acknowledged my talent. Normally, it’s them lecturing me on getting a real job and doing something with my life. It’s hard to explain to someone who is blind to the arts, what it does for a person. Music is my outlet. Music is the one thing that sets me free. Music is about the only thing keeping me standing upright and still functioning most days.
“Abel,” a female voice says seconds before Henna steps up next to my brother. “Oh my god, you were incredible up there. I had no idea you were a musician.” She addresses me like we’re old friends.
“Yep.” I rock back on my heels.
“Wasn’t he amazing, Peyton?” I turn to see who she’s speaking to. It’s the girl who spilled my drink at the bar last weekend.
“Really good,” she agrees, sliding up next to her friend. “Hi.” She waves awkwardly at me. “Remember me? We weren’t formally introduced but I’m Peyton.”
“Peyton, how could I forget? Thanks to you I went to bed smelling like scotch.” I manage to keep a straight face even though I’m totally just messing with her.
“Yeah, um, I’m sorry about that...again.” She laughs, much more timid than the last time I saw her. Hell, if I had to guess I’d say she’s downright nervous. The thought ignites a tiny fire in the pit of my stomach, but I quickly extinguish it.
Even though I try to keep my eyes on hers, I can’t stop myself from taking a moment to drink her in. Her blue eyes, her small nose, her full lips covered in a light layer of clear gloss. Her blonde hair is wavy, falling just past her shoulders, and she’s wearing a black, sleeveless tank, tight ripped jeans, and black heels. The entire look suits her well.
She really is a beautiful girl. Someone I definitely would have went for before...
I quickly shake the thought away.
“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. It was a... rough night,” I offer her a smile which she instantly returns.
“Yeah, it was kind of a hot mess.”
“I think shit show is the phrase you’re looking for.” I turn my gaze back to my brother. “I was just heading to the bar to grab a drink. You guys wanna join me? Rob owes me some free drinks.”
“Free drinks?” Henna is the first to respond. “You don’t have to twist my arm.” She grabs my brother’s hand and pulls him toward the bar.
“When did that happen?” I ask Peyton, gesturing to Aaron and Henna’s joined hands as we follow behind them.
“The night of the parties, I guess. They dropped me off and went out for a drink. The next morning he was at our place and I’ve seen him every day since then. Henna even paid double for another ticket on a reseller site just so he could come with us tonight.” She rolls her eyes.
“You don’t approve?” I question.
“Oh no, I really like Aaron. He seems like a great guy.”
“He really is.”
“It’s just Henna.” She shakes her head. “She’s an all or nothing kind of girl. Zero to sixty in three seconds flat. So far it hasn’t really worked in her favor.”
“Is that your way of telling me she’ll break my brother’s heart?”
“More like I’m afraid he’ll break hers. She falls hard and fast. I’ve seen the aftermath of that scenario more times than I care to admit.”
“Want me to warn him that I’ll break his face if he hurts her?” I keep my eyes trained forward, not sure why I don’t want to look at her.
It’s not like I haven’t hooked up with my fair share of women over the last three years. I’m not proud of it, but it is what it is. We all grieve in our own ways. But this girl... I don’t know. There’s something about her that doesn’t sit right with me and I’m not sure why that is.
“I’ll let you know if I’ll require your services.” She giggles and the sound makes my chest tighten.
What the fuck?
“You do that.” I slide up to the bar next to my brother. “What’s everyone drinking?”
“Apple martini for me.” Henna is the first to answer.
“I’ll take a beer.” Aaron taps the bar.
“Peyton?” I turn to see her eyes locked on me; an expression I can’t read etched onto her pretty face.
I shake away how that look makes me feel and try to ignore the uneasiness that settles in my stomach.
“Just water for me,” she finally answers. “I’m the designated.”
“Water it is. Apple Martini.” I point to Henna. “And beer for this one.” I bump my shoulder into Aaron’s.
Once I have everyone’s drinks ordered, I hand them out one by one as Rose sets them on the bar. Rob must have told her not to charge me because she walks away without asking for any money.
“You staying to see Hollow Hound play?” Henna asks as we make our way back toward the main hall.
“I was thinking I might catch part of their set. I haven’t seen them play in a while.”
“This is going to sound bad, but do you think you could maybe introduce us to them after the show?” She sips her Apple Martini.
“I wish I could. But they’re actually leaving right after the show. They have another gig tomorrow night in Cleveland, so they aren’t hanging around.”
“Bummer.” She pouts out her bottom lip.
I open my mouth to respond, but quickly snap it closed when my phone begins to vibrate. Snagging it out of my back pocket, I smile when I see Claire’s name flash across the screen.
“Hey,” I answer, clicking the volume up so I can hear her over the noise of the crowd.
“Well, how’d it goes? Did you rock their socks off?”
“It went really well.” I turn to the side when I feel Peyton’s eyes on me. “Better than I expected.”
“See, I knew you’d be fine.” She pauses. “What are you doing now? Based on the noise in the background I’m assuming you’re still there.”
“Yeah. Actually my brother and a couple of his friends showed up.” I throw a quick glance at Aaron whose focus is solely on Henna, not paying one bit of attention to me.
“Boyfriends or girlfriends?”
“Girl.”
“Is that so?” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“It’s not like that, Claire,” I quickly correct her.
“Look, all I’m saying is if it were like that, I’d be happy for you.”
“Well it’s not, so you can keep your happiness,” I say teasingly.
“Okay, well, you never know.”
“Claire.” I cut her off before she can say more.
“Okay. Okay.” She laughs. “I’ll let you get back to your friends. We still on for dinner tomorrow?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
“K. See you then.”
“Bye, Claire.” I disconnect the call.
“Who was that?” Aaron asks as I shove my phone back into my pocket. Okay, so maybe he was listening.
“Claire.” I lift the beer bottle to my lips and take a pull.
“How’s she doing? I haven’t seen her since...” he trails off, clearly rethinking what he was going to say. Even though I already know. He hasn’t seen her since the funeral.
“She’s good.” I take another drink of beer, purposely not looking at Peyton.
It bothers me that I feel so off kilter around her. I don’t even know the girl, yet she’s made me feel more emotion in five minutes than I’ve felt in the last year combined. Albeit, mixed emotions, but emotions just the same.
You think she’s pretty. I can almost hear Finley as if she were standing right next to me.
Pretty, yes. But she’s not you.
“I think the band is getting ready to come out.” Henna offers the distraction we need, and I glance up to the stage right as the lights dim.
The band filters onto the stage within seconds and a heavy guitar riff fills the space. I try to keep my focus on them, but I have this gnawing feeling in my gut and I can’t keep myself from glancing down at Peyton who’s standing a couple feet to my right.
Her face is turned toward the stage, but something tells me she senses my eyes on her, because I no more than look at her and she’s looking back at me.
Finley’s face instantly flashes across hers and guilt slices through me. I quickly look away, taking another long drink.
I shouldn’t be here. It all feels wrong. I shouldn’t be exchanging stolen glances with another girl in our spot. I shouldn’t be standing here thinking how beautiful she is or how it would be so easy to suggest we get out of here. It would be effortless. Taking her back to my apartment, letting her make me forget for a while. But I know what comes after, and while I could stomach it halfway across the country, I don’t know if I can here. Not when so many memories of Finley are swimming around me.
It all feels like too much, too real. Like it happened yesterday. My chest begins to tighten and a hard-lump forms in the back of my throat. The urge to escape becomes impossible to ignore.
I should say goodbye. Tell my brother I’m heading out. But I’m too deep into the oncoming panic attack to even attempt it. So instead, without a word, I turn and head for the exit, my feet not able to carry me away fast enough.
