Then I blow out the candle.
Sweet dreams, Chase.
Chapter 33Chase
It’s done.
Finally.
The new custom is heavy as hell as I sling the strap over my shoulder and pull it against my chest. It’s more showpiece than instrument, but I only plan to use it for one song.
Shaped like a crescent moon with a black burst melting into midnight blue, it looks like it was carved from the night itself. The Luminlay inlays catch the light with an otherworldly glow, like stars waking up under the stage strobes.
My upper body’s going to hate me, but she’s got presence. All sleek curves and sharp promise. The perfect storm for Annie’s “Night Song.”
We nailed the outro last week.
[Outro]
I used to chase the sun
A fire bold and bright
Now I watch the embers fade
Waiting for the night
We’re one day out from our set at The Soundproof. Five songs, all tightened, polished, and refined. Hours of rehearsals over the past few months. Fingers raw and calloused. Tag’s neighbors ready to file noise complaints. But every minute has been worth it.
Toaster sniffs around the sawdust shavings as I prop the instrument on the couch and take a step back, reaching for my phone. Snapping a quick photo, I shoot it off to the group text.
Me:She’s ready.
I take a seat and wait for the reactions to pour in.
Rock:LFG!!!!!!
Zach:Whoa. Hella sick.
Tag:??????
Tag:??????
A sense of pride settles in my chest.
I can’t help but think about where I was at the beginning of the year, drowning in debt with a bullet wound in my leg, an empty fridge, and my dog as my only friend. Not long ago, life felt like a pointless, uphill crawl, all sharp corners, wrong turns, and dead ends.
I think about the gas station owner, what I cost him, and how I’m finally getting closer to making it right.
Because now I’ve got a guitar business that’s finally breaking even, a band that feels more like family than an outlet, and tomorrow night, we’re opening for Unbidden at one of the most iconic music venues in New York City.
Not bad for a guy who used to pull fifteen-hour shifts carving furniture and hustled random shit online just to afford string packs and instant noodles.
I drag the guitar onto my lap and study the high-gloss polyurethane finish, my fingers skimming over the wire strings.
Another text notification comes through.
Annie:Chase. Wow. It’s absolutely stunning.
