“I fucking hate it. Something’s missing,” Chase says, his voice gruff. He moves behind the three of us, falling into the red leather sectional with a desolate sigh.
We all spin around, our backs now to the ginormous glowing deck. I shove my hand into the pocket of my black denim jeans and spark up a blunt, taking a deep pull. Passing it to Ty, Chase cuts his next couple of lines. His long brown hair falls over his roughened face as he sits at the edge of the couch, rolls a hundred-dollar bill, leans forward and snorts all three, one after the other.
I’m itching for a little more too.
Asher jerks his chin toward Chase’s fist and scoffs, the dimples in his cheeks emphasized when he grins. “Is the wall okay?” he asks, shoving up from his seat. His black t-shirt hangs loose around his tattooed arms when he moves across the room and rests against one of the padded walls near the door, adjusting the black cap he always wears over his short honey-brown hair.
Chase relaxes into the couch, laughing under his breath and pinching the tip of his nose, cleaning himself up. He shoves his hands through the mass of hair at his nape, the silver rings decorating his bleeding knuckles catching between loose, stringy strands. He keeps his chin down, but flicks his dark eyes up at Asher and smirks slightly, not allowing it to fully materialize. “Fucking smartass.”
We all laugh quietly.
If Ash wasn’t the one loosening up the mood, it would be me. Though, I’m not feeling too optimistic.
Chase’s eyes skate between the three of us before he asks, “But seriously, does that sound shit to you guys, too? I feel like my fucking ears are bleeding.”
I jerk my chin at his hand. “Just your fist, bro.”
Asher snorts, and Chase’s shoulders shake with another laugh.
Tyler leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, tugging his bottom lip in deep thought. “We need some heavybass in the pre-chorus, so that when we explode in the chorus, we explode together. It sounds empty at the moment,too thin.”
Chase claps. “Yes, fuck yes. That’s it.” With a nod in agreement, he points at Ty. “Can we try that?”
Standing up, I grab the blunt off Asher and shove it back between my lips, knowing this is on me. “You want me to jump in?” I blow tendrils of smoke out of my nose as I talk.
Tyler nods, flicking the dark hair that has fallen down his forehead out of his almost black eyes.
Before Ty joined the band, Chase and I would spend grueling hours over the mix, trying our best to piece our shit together, but as soon as Ty came along, he took the seat. He hears things we don’t, and while we all work together and play equally, he tends to find what’s missing—those final touches that take the production from goodto fucking great.
Asher scratches his jaw with his thumb. “I think the guitar needs a little more, too. I’ll have a play after this ugly fuck.” He shoves me as I’m moving out the door, and the smile on his face is so goddamn full it reaches his deep green eyes.
I wish I was that happy.I used to be. I used to not care about anything.Was it better that way? When I didn’t have a heart?
Swallowing, I shake the thought away quicker than it arrived. “Like you can fucking talk,” I reply before sticking my tongue out and slipping right into the booth.
All three boys' elbows are on the deck as they watch me through the glass window. I throw the strap of my teal bass guitar over my shoulders and push the strings through a light tune. Once I’m happy, I shove on the black headphones and jerk my chin in their direction.
Chase is sitting right beside Ty, watching intently as he twists the silver ring on his thumb, biting his nail in anticipation. Asher is on the opposite side, hitting the last of the blunt, when Ty’s arm extends into the air, raising three fingers. He lays the firstdown, the second follows, and when the third curls inward, the music pulses in my ears. I listen to the verse, my chin dropping to my chest and teeth finding my bottom lip as I move to the beat. Chase’s vocals push through the line, and when he screams, I feel myself blacking out.
All I hear is her.
And it’s fucking agonizing.
I tilt my head back toward the ceiling and take a ragged breath as the walls close in on me.
“We have a light pulse, so fucking light. This girl has fight.”
Rusty’s words make me shiver.
Then, I start to tremble.
The music cuts off in my headphones, but I stay staring at the ceiling, even when fists fall heavy on the window and Ty’s voice distorts through the headphones. It’s like I’m paralyzed.
The box's door opens, and someone walks in. I don’t care to take note of who it is.
I should be there with her.
Not here.
