It’s too hot for people to stand unprotected outside, and there’s no shade on that side of the street where they’re lined up.
“We need to give Ben’s fans the best chance to get in for his set tonight. He’s the headliner.”
Soph wobbles her head from side to side. “First come, first served. There will be a mutiny if you mess with that. It sucks for Ben, but you hit the tipping point. You’re the bigger draw. You guys have momentum on your side, and people want to be part of it. They wanna be able to say, ‘I saw Thicker Than Water first.’”
I sigh. “It feels shitty to do this to Ben. Right, Jess?”
When I look at him, he shrugs. “Yeah, it does. It sucks for Ben, but it’s not like we’re trying to fuck him over. We need to find a balance that works for everyone. I think Soph’s right. We didn’t ask for this, but it’s happening.”
That’s what scares me. I’ve been on a train that went too fast too soon and got out of control. I look at Soph for guidance. Her perspective is different since she’s on the outside and not emotionally attached like I am. She’s logical and rational. “What do you think we should do?”
“I think Jess is right about finding balance, and this is an opportunity to make a lot of people happy if we can get creative. You get what you give, you know? Don’t pass that up.”
I look at Jess, and we both nod. I let a lot of people down the past few years because I withdrew. I did it to insulate, but it also robbed me. It would be nice to make up for some of that. And with these two by my side, it doesn’t feel so scary. I almost forgot what trust feels like.
Soph taps on her phone and begins scrolling before turning it to face us. “It looks like they have a covered beer garden outside. I can’t tell how big it is, but it looks bigger than the interior space. I bet it holds close to two hundred. If Susan gives us the green light, we can bring some of the overflow crowd in, and you can play a song or two and take some photos. Rinse and repeat.”
“That could work,” Jess says. “It’s worth a shot.”
Just then, Soph gets a text alert and says, “Gate’s open to the back lot. Let’s go.”
The bar staff are the friendliest we’ve encountered so far, and we take it as a sign that we need to roll with it and make this work. After they check IDs and wristband the first one hundred fifty people in line so they can start processing cover fees to get them in the door, Jess and I both grab a beer and head outside with my acoustic. It’s still hot, but the combination of shade and overhead fans to move the air makes it bearable.
I can hear Soph shouting instructions outside the gate, and within minutes the patio is comfortably full, while the remaining line waits patiently across the street at a park under the shade of massive cottonwoods.
Jess steps up on a picnic table, his head nearly touching the corrugated metal roof, so he can be seen over the standing crowd and shouts, “Hey, Tulsa! Thanks for braving the heat today! Y’all are crazy!” He lifts his beer in appreciation, and they cheer. “I’m Jess, and this is my little brother, Ever!”
I’m sitting on the tabletop with my feet resting on the bench and my guitar resting on my thigh, but I raise my hand and wave to acknowledge them.
He continues, “We’re Thicker Than Water, and we’re so sorry you’re not gonna be able to get in for tonight’s show with Ben?—”
A bellow from the back cuts him off, “Fuck Ben, we’re here for you!”
It catches Jess off guard, and he laughs and raises his beer again. “Like I said, y’all are crazy, but thank you! We appreciate it! We only have time for a song or two, but we didn’t want to let this opportunity to see you and say hi pass us by!”
We don’t have microphones out here, but there’s no need. His voice carries, the crowd’s endearingly off-key when they sing along, and my guitar is steady until a string breaks halfway through the last song—the imperfection is perfection. This is the way music should bring people together.
I usually dread photos, but we take several group shots, and everyone is so nice and so grateful that it’s impossible not to mirror it back.
After the crowd exits, the next enters, sweatier but every bit as into it.
Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.
It takes two hours, but we get through the entire line. Soph was right, most of them showed up to see us, not Ben.
Soph joins us outside with pepperoni pizzas and water. We don’t go on for another hour, so we have some time to relax. Her nose and cheeks are pink with sunburn and dotted with freckles when she pushes her sunglasses up into her hair. She’s beaming, and her beauty is a punch to the chest. Breathtaking.
“Okay, overachievers, they all left either wanting to be your bestie or marry you. And all your merch sold. Well done, boys.”
The picnic table is narrow, and our knees collide when I try to take a seat across from her. Reflexively, we both say, “Sorry,” and move to stand and readjust. But when our eyes connect, we sink back down, parting our legs. Her knee slides between mine, and mine slides between hers.
And just when I think this moment couldn’t get any better, she scoots her bench forward several inches, and her bare thighs wrap around my leg. Jess is talking, but I can’t hear a word over the blood rush. Height has its drawbacks, but not today.
I inhale deeply and school my features before I look at her.
