“We have two guitarists and multiple people who can play multiple instruments. When we play that song, we toss Dally back there,” Cash spoke up. He motioned to Tate beside me. “You said you used to do vocals for a different band, didn’t you?”
“I did. You guys really think this is a good idea?” Tate was just as skeptical as I was.
“It’s not great, but Dallas has a point,” Cash argued. “We take it back. You, Jim. Take it back. Embrace it. I mean, it’s not like it was some random dude. It’s your husband. I think it could work. Show that you two are unfazed by it.”
I looked over at Ronny, who was staring hard at the floor.
“Ronny, what do you want to do?” I asked pointedly. He shook his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets. When he looked up at me, he looked utterly defeated.
“It’s not really about me, is it? Just consider it another hurdle I’ll have to get over.”
“If you’re not comfortable with it we won’t do it,” I said firmly. He was going through enough. Having him perform this with us was just throwing alcohol on the wound.
“It’s fine. Really. Let’s learn it.”
“I’ve got to make some calls. Tell my parents to call off their lawyer.” Tate reached for his phone and walked away to make the call. While he did that, Dallas grabbed his tablet and urged us all to do the same.
“If we’re going to do this, we need to know the song. Let’s get to it,” he said. His professional hat had been slipped on. There’d be little to no nonsense until we had mastered this song on our own terms.
Dallas hooked his tablet up to the speakers and as soon as Tate was off the phone, he pushed play on Tierney’s song. It was the first time since last night that I’d heard it. I had to close my eyes and shove my shoulders up to my ears just to get through it. Tate sat beside me on the couch with one hand on my lap and the other on my back, rubbing slow, comforting circles.
He reminded me to breathe in and out as the song repeated. After about the fifth time I could swallow and look my bandmates in the eyes. They were all watching me intently, waiting for me to start relaxing.
While we were listening, Dallas and the others had their devices out writing notes. When I finally was able to let go of Tate, he did the same. Eventually I stood up and went to my brother. I remembered fondly of how he took notes when doing stuff like this. It was very similar to how I did. He understood me more than any of these guys in here when it came to our craft.
He looked up and offered me his notes. He had pages. I was actually impressed. He had typed out the lyrics, even the audio Tierney had taken from Tate and I. On another document he had made all sorts of notes regarding the actual music. The third page was how we’d perform it on stage versus recording it on video.
“You want to do a video?” I asked. He shrugged, then grinned.
“Why not? I’m sure hers is coming soon. Why not show her up? Beat her at her own game.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, so I simply told him thank you. He flipped me off, and I did the same. My heart swelled, feeling the love around me. Everyone in this room cared enough about me to listen to this horrible song on repeat for hours to learn it good enough to perform live. My brother and two of my ex’s were in this room and still, they did it. I couldn’t pay for that kind of love.
I shared Dallas’ notes with everyone and we started to formulate a plan. We weren’t just learning the song. We were going to figure out how to master it on and off stage.
Learning the song wasn’t easy. It was awkward at first. Dallas at my drum kit, Tate standing beside me with his own microphone. Before we started, Dallas yelled for me. I turned and tilted my head.
“Sing like you’re on stage. Perform it. Let’s see what comes natural.”
I nodded and cued the rest of them to start. I licked my lips and glanced at Tate. He grinned and reached for my hand. My heart slowed down to a manageable pace and I could breathe again.
Dallas clicked his sticks and launched us into the song. I pulled my hand away from Tate and turned to our invisible crowd. I sang the first verse, shaking my head and weaving through Ronny, Cash, and Tate.
They all watched me with curious eyes as they played. With each new line I sang, the higher my confidence grew.
When the verse ended, Tate picked up his own mic and I stopped moving. He stormed across the room, his version harder, more furious. I had been the cat, teasing the mouse in between my claws. Slow, coy, and ready to pounce. Tate was a dog chasing a bird around the yard. Eager, smiling, and this close to snapping someone’s neck if they weren’t careful.
When the chorus came, we both belted our hearts out. We rushed towards each other and sang, our voices overlapping and combining to make something fucking glorious.
I was life and he was death. We flirted with each other as we performed. And then, came the highlight. The moment anyone listening came here for. I watched Tate swallow and his chest swell with nerves for a moment before stepping over to me and crushing his lips to mine. It was as if with his lips, he could save me from the world. In that moment, with his hands on my cheeks, I thought he truly could.
Cash, Dallas, and Ronny played a fraction longer than we planned, giving Tate and I a moment to back off and go through with the words I dreaded with every fiber of my being. I grabbed him and spun him straight towards the front of the room. Putting myself directly in front of him.
Instinctively, he put one hand on my hip and the one holding his mic went to his mouth. I closed my eyes and as we started repeating the things we had said in the privacy of our bedroom. I put my hand on his and guided him up and down my body. Almost like two kids playing with a Ouija board. At first, my hands were in charge, moving him almost mechanically, but then, the spirit took over and Tate’s hands were roaming all over. His fingers grazed my breasts, sending ripples of excitement through my body as my nipples hardened under his touch.
I closed my eyes and focused on the words we were saying rather than what our bandmates were seeing and thinking. And then, the second our little snippet was done, we slipped away from each other, as if we had been caught in the very act. We finished the song as we had started it.
When it ended, the room went quiet for a long moment before Dallas started clapping slowly and stood. We all turned towards him, as if he were the deciding factor in how this went. The room was thick with an air of anticipation. Finally, he shook his head and smiled.
