“What about doing a Bon Jovi song? We all know most of them?” Joe suggests.
Grant and Joe debate Bon Jovi songs, while Bennie consults the list of banned songs and I pull my phone out of my pocket and ignore them all because I don’t think changing the songs will help anything. I check my text messages and all the chatter around me fades into the background when I see an alert with Bowen’s name on it.
I read his messages and then reread the last one three times and then I just stare. He wantsmeto forgivehim? He thinks he has to beg for that? Like I haven’t been lying awake thinking of nothing but him every night. Missing him. His laugh. His easy-going smile that somehow made these lies I’ve been living so much more bearable.
“You’re smiling. Why?” Grant asks suddenly and nudges me with his shoulder.
“Because Bowen is talking to me again.”
“What?” Bennie says at the same time Grant says, “That’s great!”
“What changed?” Joe wants to know.
“He knows I’m not the one who lied to the paper,” I say and my smile grows.
“How could he figure that out?” Bennie snaps and he sounds both angry and… something else. Incredulous? “That kid and his brother are dumber than a bag of hammers.”
“Whoa.” Joe frowns.
“He’s incredibly smart and a way better drummer than you,” I reply and Bennie flinches. I don’t feel the least bit bad because as I look at him with his wide eyes and skittish expression, Lacey’s suggestion rumbles through my head.
“You know who I think did it? Someone at that fundraiser Woody hosted at his house.”
My eyes narrow on him. “You did it.”
“Me?” His indignation is so over the top it’s almost ridiculous.
“Sounds like you definitely did it,” Joe remarks. “Fuck Bennie. Why?”
“Exactly! Why?” Bennie says, his voice getting so loud that Grant shushes him. Lacey is still giving her speech. “Why would I do that, Chase?”
“You know why,” I growl.
“Thank you again, for a wonderful evening,” Lacey’s voice cuts through our argument as it booms from the speakers. “And now let’s finish off the night with a couple more songs from my dear Chase and his band Imposter Syndrome.”
“Her dear Chase?” Grant repeats and lifts an eyebrow.
“I don’t know what the fuck that is about,” I grumble and follow Joe as he heads towards the stage.
“She’s being a good beard,” Bennie adds, falling in step with me. “You should be thrilled.”
“Shut up,” I snap but his words stick to me as I climb the stairs to the stage and make me feel dirty. “If I could kick you off stage right now, I would.”
“Your accusations are unfounded,” he whispers back. “I’m right about her and you know it.”
Heisright. If I hadn’t met Bowen, pretending to be Lacey’s boyfriend would be no big deal at all. It would actually probably be a welcome lie. One last extra thing to placate my dad and guarantee my inheritance. What more could I want?
BowenI think as I pick up my guitar and slowly walk over to the microphone. Bowen is the more I could want. And I do want him. So much. More than I want that stupid money.
Joe talks to the audience and announces the song, which will be “Living on a Prayer” apparently. I should have probably paid more attention. But I can do this one without even thinking about it. As I strum out the melody and sing the lyrics, my brain wanders. I think about what the next few months will be like if Bowen takes me back and we continue our secret relationship. And then I think about what the rest of my life will be like if Bowen takes me back and I say fuck it and just live my life out loud, in public, the way I’ve yearned to for years. And it’s only then that I smile.
Sure I might have to go into debt to go back to school. And I might have to sell the Ferrari and maybe even give back the loft and the business space, but I’ll still go after everything I’ve dreamed of. And I can be proud of myself while I’m doing it. And I won’t be living a second more of my one and only life for anyone else but me. And the world will know how much I adore Bowen Whitlock. How special he is. How lucky I am.
The song ends and Grant stares over at me from his position on stage. That song did get the crowd going at least a little bit, so we’re greeted with almost exuberant applause.
“Before we do our last number, I want to thank Lacey for having us here tonight,” I say into the microphone. “She’s an old family friend, as many of you probably know. My grandfather was a local politician as well. Ned McDaniels.”
I see my aunt just to the left of the stage perk up at the mention of her late father. A wave of fear washes over me but it’s gone just as quickly as it came. I know this is right.
