I sat back and ran my hand through my hair.
“Dally, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
There was a pause between us for a long moment before he gave me a smirk and reached out to pat my shoulder.
“It’s all good. I’m going to get Cash back eventually and it’s going glorious.”
“How?” I chuckled.
“Let’s start with letting me join The Homewreckers.”
* * *
I thought about mentioning the conversation I had with Dallas to Cash, but he was so busy getting ready to leave with Audrey it felt kind of pointless. I couldn’t keep rehashing old things. It was done and everyone was happy to be moving on.
I saw him off along with Ronny and Dallas. I was happy for him, really I was. But that didn’t make it any less sad to see my oldest friend off. What was I going to do while he was gone?
Dallas gladly offered to take his place in the band while he was gone.
“I’ll learn all the songs and help book gigs and stuff. I’ve still got connections.”
“He’s only gone for a few months. You’re not taking his place,” I told him every time he brought it up, which was often. I knew he missed having his own band to play with. Hip Friction imploded the same night Vagabond Babies did.
Tate occasionally came over for a jam session. Cara was being watched by his mom a few times a week, giving him some time to spend with us. Which was great for me, not so great for Ronny. He was still fuming over the break-up.
However, things started to shift one day when Tate posted to his social media. It was a lovely, three minute video of him playing an acoustic guitar and singing softly to a sleeping Cara. It was such a touching, beautiful moment between the two of them that it brought me to tears. My heart wept. I should be with them, I sighed.
I didn’t recognize the lyrics, so I took to the comments to find out what he was singing. The comment section was blowing up faster and larger than usual. Others had the same questions, to which Tate eventually replied that it was an original song he wrote for her.
In less than 48 hours the video had gone viral. He had almost a million views and it just kept growing. Something about a hot, tattooed dad playing the guitar to his sleeping daughter did it for people. Myself included.
Of course, many of the comments were asking about her mother. Or rather, the ring on his finger, indicating special someone. While Tate did respond to comments on his posts, he always ignored those ones.
Of course, everyone over here had mixed reactions to Tate’s sudden viral fame. Dallas was impressed, I was touched, and Ronny was completely uninterested.
The three of us were all hanging around my apartment doing absolutely nothing when we each received a text from Cash. He’d been living it up, having a great time in Brazil. He would text us on occasion but not often. We all pulled out our phones and clicked on his message.
Saw the video. Wanted to contribute. Here you go baby Cara.
The message came with a video of its own.
“Hold on, let me go get my tablet,” I told the guys. It was apparent that we were all meant to watch it. Might as well do it together. It’d be hard to hear if all three of us had the video playing at different times all at once. I grabbed my device and set it in the middle of us. I transferred the video to that screen and pushed play.
Cash, in the flesh, all tanned and smiley, stood in what I imagined was the home him and Audrey were renting. He held his electric guitar, and I could see his amp behind him. He flashed another grin at the camera and launched into the song Tate had written for his daughter. Cash wasn’t a singer, but the melody was so on point we didn’t need to hear words to know that he was playing her song. It was phenomenal.
A moment later we all received notifications that he had posted the video to social media. He made sure to tag Tate, our band The Homewreckers, and used#Carassongto make sure that it hit all the proper algorithms. And it did.
Cash’s rendition of Cara’s song sparked an idea within our group. Dallas was the first one to say it, but we were all thinking the same thing.
“Come on, let’s go do this,” he said excitedly, hurrying to the rehearsal space. We then spent the rest of the day learning and mastering the song. Then, one by one we recorded our parts alone.
I wanted to play the drums for it, but I was singing for The Homewreckers and Ronny and Dallas both agreed I would be better suited in front. Dallas took over my kit. I hated to admit it, but he was just as good as I was on percussion. He did Cara’s song justice.
Ronny wasn’t as eager to do the project, but he knew a good promo opportunity when he saw one and he’d look like a huge dick if he didn’t participate. Begrudgingly, he put his bass in his lap and did his part for the song.
Over the next week each of us posted our video in response. We tagged each other and combined our individual videos with the ones that came before it. I was the last one to post, and when all the videos were combined it created something shockingly beautiful.
Tate loved it. We talked about it at length every night before we went to bed. Now that Ronny was getting more and more mobile, we were getting more excited for Tate and Cara to come back. Or me go there, we hadn’t really decided yet.
