Linus leans back and pulls me into his side. “We all know what this is about. Liam, we’ve been here before. He’s behavin’ exactly the same way as he did in college.”
No one says her name. We don’t have to. It’s written in every line of Padraig’s face when he speaks about her. Evident by how fast he retreats the moment she calls.
Liam buries his face in his hands, then looks back up. “I want him to be happy.”
“Same as all of us.” Linus strokes my shoulder.
I glance between them. “I understand the fight or flight. I’m guessin’ he’s trying to find any reason to quit so he can write a different endin’.”
“Aye.” Liam drags a hand through his hair. “We’ve made our fair share of messes.”
“Sure, but we’re still here.” Linus squeezes his eyes shut.
There’s a long pause. Not uncomfortable. Honest.
“Do you think he’s gonna be okay?” I direct my question to Liam.
He nods. “Yeah. He’s stronger than he gives himself credit for.”
“Even when he pushes us away, we’ve got him,” Linus adds. “I’ll do my best to make sure we can accommodate him, whatever it takes.”
We sit for a beat longer. The three of us, breathing in the quiet, surrounded by gear cases, discarded water bottles, and the echo of fifty thousand voices still reverberating outside.
“Come on.” Liam rises. “Let’s get back to our girls.”
Linus stands and offers his hand, pulling me to my feet.
Whatever the world wants to say about our love, our band, our history.
We won’t go through it alone.
Like always, we face it together.
sixty
Liam
Eighteen Months Later
Eighteenmonthslater,thewhirlwind hasn’t stopped.
Fireball’s worldwide now.
We were in South America in the spring. Europe again in the summer. Australia last winter. Released another album, cut in stolen weeks between tours, recorded half in LA, half wherever we could find a studio while on tour.
This record is our masterpiece. Not louder. Not shinier. Deeper. Critics call it the kind of music people play alone at night.
Padraig’s still here. Pounding the kit. Grumbling. Showing up, which matters morethan anything.
We learned a bit from Connor’s mistakes. Shorter runs. Real breaks. Home when we can be home. LTZ burned itself to ash once. I won’t let Fireball do the same.
At the same time, we’re riding a high most bands never achieve. A second wind no one saw coming, including ourselves. We have Linus to thank. Fireball’s legacy is no longer a footnote.
My family’s been loud lately. Rory turned sixty. He’s fully sober. Still trying. Ma’s religious about her Sunday family dinners, we’re all expected to attend if we’re in town. Connor’s a TV star now, starring in Ronni’s new sitcom. Cillian’s blowing up his own life in creative ways. Brennan’s disappeared into code and investors. Seamus thinks he can save the world with a scalpel.
Everyone’s moving. Everyone’s struggling. No one gets out completely clean.
As for my own family, Linus, Avonna, the girls and I are at home in LA for a bit.
