Leaving him be, I take my office key from the kitchen and open the door. I stare at the key for a moment before tossing it into the top drawer of my desk. It’s time to stop locking the door and start trusting the people I’ve invited to share my life. Both to respect my privacy when I want it, and to respect my art when I choose to share.
With a satisfied sigh, I sit at my desk and open a new text file so I can brainstorm ideas for my new project. It’s the scariest undertaking I’ve ever considered. Although, I’m excited, too. After so many years spent trying to control other people’s reactions to me, there is a thrill in not being able to predict this outcome. I have no idea what will happen or what people will think of me. I can only trust that those who love me will still be by my side in the end.
TWENTY-NINE
______
NED
The Jam Shed, as named by Gavin since it’s located at the back of his property, is quiet when I approach. It’s already a half hour after we usually begin our rehearsal and I expected music to be emanating from the small music studio, even with the extreme amounts of sound insulation Gav installed when he built the place a couple of years ago. Instead, I hear the plucking of a single guitar string as it’s tuned.
I haven’t spoken to any of the guys since our argument a few days ago. Each of them reached out through either a text or a phone call. I responded with a group text asking for a couple of days to sort out my shit. They agreed.
Our usual scheduled rehearsal seemed like a good time to pitch my new vision of the future to them, see how they feel about it. It never occurred to me rehearsal would be cancelled in my absence. Poking my head through the doorway, I sigh in relief. They’re all here. Oz sits in a swivel chair, still plucking at his strings. He’s talking quietly with Gavin, who’s in place behind his drum set with sticks in hand. His arms crossed and a tense frown on his face.
Johnny is perched on the edge of the old two-seater couch against the wall on the other side of the studio. His right knee is bouncing and he’s drilling holes into the floor with his gaze.
I close the door behind me, loud enough to get everyone’s attention. “Hey, guys.”
Three heads swivel in my direction with matching expressions of surprise. Oz stands first, coming forwards to offer me his free hand.
“Good to see you,” he says as we shake. “We weren’t sure you’d be here.”
I offer him a wry grin. “Neither was I for a while.”
Gavin approaches next and he squeezes my shoulder as we shake hands.
My gaze shifts to Johnny. He crosses the room slowly, a scowl on his face.
I lift a hand to stop whatever tirade he might be getting ready to throw at me. “Look, I’m sorry for being an arsehole the other night. I shouldn’t have taken off like that.”
Johnny shakes his head. “I don’t care about—”
“Hang on,” I cut in. “Let me finish, okay?”
Grudgingly, Johnny nods. “Go ahead,” he grumbles.
Taking a deep breath, I look at the three of them gathered before me. “I’ll admit it’s taken me a long time to face up to what happened in Sydney… with Zac. I’m not going into the details, obviously, but it was bad for me. He was bad for me.
“Since I came back, I’ve been hiding from everything I wanted, from life and from music. It’s time I stopped hiding.” Toni helped me realise that. Seeing the way he struggled to reveal his softer side has helped me realise how hard I’ve been repressing my wilder side. Only letting myself feel and be free on stage, as though that was life and everything else was some kind of backstage boredom. Now I realise I can live life out loud, creatively, the way I used to, without losing sight of who I am and what matters to me. With Toni by my side, as my tether, everything I want and everything I need will always lead me to the same place.
“I’ve dreamed of being a musician from the time I picked up my first guitar, and now I am. We are. I want to own the title again, I want to run with it, without being scared of falling down. And I want Fifth Circle to go as far and as high as we can. Together.”
“Sounds good to me,” Oz says.
“Yeah,” Gavin agrees with a nod. “I’m in.”
Turning my head, I meet Johnny’s gaze. “What do you say, Johnny?” I ask. “Forgive me?”
“You goddamned arsehole,” Johnny cries, swinging his arms around wildly. “What the fuck do you need to be forgiven for?”
My eyes widen at his outburst. “Huh?”
“I’m the one who should be sorry.” He smacks a hand on his chest. “You were there for me when Ellie left, and I was a freaking wreck. You were all there for me. I don’t know what I would have done without you lot.” He gestures to all of us, and I swear there is a real possibility I see a gleam of stray wetness in the corner of one of his eyes. It’s probably a trick of the light, but I grin anyway. “You were a true friend to me,” he’s looking directly at me now, “and I should have been the same to you. I never should have pushed aside whatever you went through. It was selfish, and I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. “Don’t be. If you hadn’t pushed me, I never would have gotten past all the bullshit, and we’d never have the chance to move forward.”
Johnny clamps a hand on my shoulder. “We’re in this together, right?” he says fiercely. “We take care of each other. We have each other’s backs from now on—no matter what.”
