Page 105 of Heartstring


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“Hey, you okay?” Bastian asks, grabbing a sandwich.

I look at the guys behind us. Fox picks up his bass, and Stone overturns an empty trash can. They begin jamming like we haven’t just played a whole gig.

“They didn’t notice,” Bastian says.

“Notice what?”

“I’ve known you for ten years, Mik. When will you get it through your blond skull that we know you and we all care about you?”

“I’m sorry. I know you all care. You’ve been the best brothers I could ever ask for.” It’s the honest truth, and I wouldn’t have lasted this long if it wasn’t for the band. Not that we had any thoughts of retiring. We’d all be touring in our seventies.

“So, you want to tell me what happened? I was right behind you earlier, and you seemed to freeze.”

“I thought I saw Tyler.”

“You thought…?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know, man. It seemed pretty real, but you know how it is when we come off stage. We’re on a high. There’s all the fans shouting for your attention. Sometimes…”

“I get it. It’s too much all at once when we haven’t come down from the high of performing. Why do you think you saw him? Could it have been someone who looks like him?”

“I don’t know. He wasn’t smiling and seemed surprised I saw him. He looks the same as he did when I last saw him. Or maybe it’s just my brain making it all up.”

“That was that night at the club, right? The open mic thing.”

“Yeah.” I let out a laugh. “It’s probably nothing, and my brain is just a little scrambled. Maybe it’s because it’s his birthday today.”

“Shit, really?”

“Yeah. We used to have all these plans for the future. All the places we wanted to play at before we turned thirty-five.”

“Sounds like a nice dream.”

“I’ve done them all, Bastian. We’ve played at all those venues. Tyler…”

He puts his hand on me. “Hey, do you feel guilty?”

“Yeah.”

“You shouldn’t. You got in the band on your own merit, and if I remember correctly, he was the one who wouldn’t take your calls. I watched you try so hard for years. Do you remember when we got our first real break?”

“After the second album?”

Bastian shakes his head. “Almost. We launched the album, and it stayed on the charts for weeks. Suddenly, there was a shift in you. It was as if you decided after two whole years that you were finally joining the band. You became more engaged. You stopped looking at all the doors hoping Tyler would walk through. It was when we became a real band. The public saw it, and suddenly there were tours, documentaries about our rise to the top, merch, you name it.”

I close my eyes, seeing those moments all merge into one. Is Bastian right? Was I the one holding the band back because I felt guilty for doing this without Tyler?

Well, fuck him and his unanswered calls. If that was him outside, he has no right being here. If it wasn’t him, then he has no right to intrude in my head like that.

“What do you say we go join the boys for twenty minutes of jam before we meet the fans?” I ask.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m good.” I pat his back. “Let’s be rock stars. We might even get lucky tonight. God knows you and I need it, and if I have to hear Stone go on about his dry spell again, I’ll kill myself or him.”

“Dude.” He elbows me.

“Let’s go.”