Page 40 of What They Say

Chase

Chase stood near the back of the rehearsal space, guitar slung low, watching the rest of the band run through the setlist for their upcoming show in Michigan. The venue was bigger than most of the places they’d played lately—a real step up thanks to the Iron Indian push. Everyone else seemed excited. Focused. Ready.

He felt like he might throw up.

It wasn’t stage fright exactly. He knew the songs. He knew his parts. But the idea of stepping onto a bigger stage, with more eyes on him—Mason’s kid trying to prove he belongs—made his skin feel too tight.

He slipped away while the others were tweaking the bridge of the new track and found a quiet corner with just his acoustic. His fingers found the strings almost on their own, picking out that same rolling melody that had been living in his head since the night on the tailgate with Kath.

The notes came easy. Warm. A little hopeful. A little aching. Playing it settled something deep in his chest. The nerves didn’t disappear, but they quieted enough for him to breathe.

He pulled out his phone and opened a video call before he could overthink it.

Kath answered on the third ring. Her face filled the screen—hair messy, wearing an old band tee, looking like she’d just gotten off work.

“Hey,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You look like you’re thinking too hard.”

Chase let out a short laugh. “We’re heading to Michigan in a couple days. Bigger stage. I’m...nervous. Been playing that melody you inspired the other night just to keep from losing my mind.”

Kath’s expression softened. “The one you said fit my lyrics?”

“Yeah. That one.”

She was quiet for a second, then tilted her head. “Bring your guitar and come over. We can try working on it together. If you want.”

Chase didn’t even hesitate. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

Kath laughed. “I kinda think you’ll need to know where you’re going.”

One address later, the call disconnected, and Chase was on his way.

***

When he pulled up to her place, Kath was waiting on the small front porch, notebook in her lap. She looked nervous too, but in a different way—like she was stepping into something new and wasn’t sure if she should.

They settled on the couch inside, close but not touching. Chase started playing the melody softly. Kath listened for a while, then flipped open her notebook and began reading lines that matched the feeling perfectly.

They worked like that for nearly an hour—him playing, her reading and adjusting lyrics, both of them feeding off each other in a way that felt electric and natural at the same time. The song started taking real shape. Something raw and hopeful.

During a break, Chase set his guitar down and looked at her.

“I can’t get over how great it feels to be hearing the words that go with the music.” Chase smiled gently. “I’m serious about it. I talked to one of the band members, and they said having music show up like this is something special. That doesn’t happen often. I can’t wait to hear the lyrics sung aloud.”

Kath looked down at her notebook, thumb tracing the edge of a page. When she looked back up, there was something vulnerable and wondering in her eyes.

“I don’t know what to say to that,” she admitted. “Part of me wants to run. The other part...” She let out a shaky breath. “The other part really wants to see what happens if I stop running.”

Chase reached over and brushed his fingers lightly over the back of her hand. Not grabbing. Just there.

“You don’t have to decide anything tonight,” he said softly. “We can just keep doing this. Writing. Riding. Whatever feels right.”

Kath turned her hand over and laced her fingers with his.

For the first time since he’d met her, she didn’t look like she was waiting for the axe to fall.

She looked like she was starting to believe it might not.

***