Regaining control of his thoughts, he asked, “You’re saying that our Tristan Knight is the same Tristan Knight who wrote her songs?” Noah nodded. “Oh, fuck! This is huge! I thought it was a neat coincidence. I also thought the lyricist was like super old bynow.”
“Tristan is seventeen years older than you,though.”
Aidan had to laugh. “I guess that twenty-five seems like a million years when you’reeight.”
“Youbet.”
Then, Aidan remembered the news articles he had read about Izzie, and Noah’s words made sense to him. “Oh, fuck! Now I get what you meant by saying shit made Tristan quit the music business. I don’t know what I would have done if I were in his shoes. I don’t blame him for not wanting backin.”
“Well, I do. I mean, I get that Izzie Anderson stomped over Tristan’s heart, breaking it in an irreparable million pieces. I get that she was once a sweet girl whose international rock stardom changed her forever. I even get that my friend Tristan mistrusts music biz people in general. He had his reasons. Good ones. But all that happened fucking fourteen years ago. It’s about time Tristan got his shit together and movedon.”
“I don’t have much to offer on the whole heart-breaking, heart-mending thing.Sorry.”
Noah snapped his head up from the beer can he had been rolling between his hands. His piercing green stare held Aidan’s before he spoke. “You’re not a virgin, are you? That wouldn’t fly for a rockstar.”
Aidan’s chest shook with laughter. “Hell, no! I’m not a virgin. Only my heartis.”
“Whoa. Tristan might have a strong competitor for the title of lyricist in thisband.”
“He’s got nothing to worry. Like most Irish, I’ve got the gift of gab. Blame it on the Blarney stone, if youwill.”
Noah pushed himself off the stool and tossed his empty can in the trash. Aidan followed his example, and they strode to the studio, behind the last door on the right at the end of the corridor that led from the dining room to thebedrooms.
When Noah opened the door, and the two men entered the room, the powerful guitar riffs of U2’sBullet the Blue Skyhit Aidan in the chest, and he was transported to that first time he watched the band play live at SlaneCastle.
“I swear Tristan could give The Edge a run for his money any day of the week. He is a fucking genius,” Aidan whispered into Noah’sear.
The guitar player didn’t notice them enter, so Noah got to his seat behind the drum set, while Aidan perched himself on the corner top of a tower of speakers. He had been storing his bass guitar in the studio, so he grabbed it from its metal stand and slung the strap over his shoulder. He held it loosely, not wanting to play along with Tristan. He’d rather watch him as he plowed through a particularly difficult set of riffs. Aidan got goosebumps and searched for Noah’s gaze. It was trained on his childhood friend, a wide smile playing on his lips. No doubt he shared Aidan’s amazement at their guitarplayer.
Noah and Tristan knew all about Aidan’s passion for U2’s music. He had shared with them details about his first concert, going to school with some of the band members’ kids, and the immense influence the band had had on his impressionable youngself.
Still, he never missed a chance to make a joke. “Please, tell your buddy there’s more to Ireland than these guys,” Aidan pleaded with Noah, nodding towards Tristan, who seemed lost in the soulful sounds he was making with hisguitar.
When he finished playing the piece and snapped his head up to look at the other two men, Tristan had a vacant expression as if transported to a place only he had access to. “What?”
Noah shrugged. “Aidan’s got a good point, man. You should play one of your own songs.Weshould be writing our own stuff. I mean, we’ve got our own Irish rock star. Why use another one’smaterial?”
“I can’t use my songs,” Tristan replied, then muttered under his breath, “You knowthat.”
“You wrote for more than only one fucking big star. We could totally use those other songs. I’m not talking about that, though. We could write our own new material. You’re a virtuoso guitarist with a beautiful singing voice, I play drums like a mad man, and Aidan here doesn’t totally suck with a bass in hishands.”
“Thanks, pal. I guess,” Aidan interjected. “We’ve got all we need. Let’s dothis.”
Tristan stared at them both, his expression hard to read, except that he didn’t seem convinced. “We’ll see about that,” he finally offered, in a non-committal tone that made Aidan’s heart sunk to hisstomach.
Fuck.
Today was not a good day to heap more doubt on top of the ones he had already been nursing. He needed to know he had made the right decision staying in Brazil instead of going home and giving his mom a hand looking after thisdad.
Noah’s expression lost its usual lightness, and his tone got terse. “You always do this, man. You say we’ll talk about it at an undisclosed time in the future, which never comes to be. I’m kind of sick ofit.”
“What do you want from me, Noah? I’ve got too much going on right now. The restaurant, my mom’s health, and some investments going south. We’re not twenty anymore, dude. We’ve got responsibilities. Well, at least, I’ve gotthem.”
“Where’s that coming from? Not my fault your life sucks more thanmine.”
Tristan ran a hand over his face and neck as if to control his temper. Still, his nostrils flared when he spoke again, “My bad. You’re right. It’s just that I don’t need the extra pressure right now. Can we leave it at that? Fornow?”
Aidan spotted a vein throbbing on Noah’s temple. Not a good sign, but he deadpanned. “Just don’t take another ten years or so to make up your mind. As you said, we’re not twenty. I worry it might be too late forus.”
