Page 114 of Take My Hand

His admission takes us all by surprise.

I clap my hand on Reid’s back, and he gives me a small, sad smile in return. The first smile he’s given me in as long as I can remember and I hope Carter captured that moment because it’s more than just a moment right here. It’s years of hurt and tension between us and that smile right there was a bit of light, a bit of hope, and I want to cling to it with everything I have because despite the shit we’ve gone through, I don’t want to lose Reid.

I force the lump in my throat down as I scan around the group. “I have loved nothing more than getting to spend the last half of my teen years and the first half of my twenties playing with the three of you. I look back at it all now and wish I could slow down time, relieve it all again, because all of my best memories are with you.”

Our high school prom where we got to play at an afterparty and thought we were such hot shots in our tuxedos and the first couple of original songs.

Our first trip out to LA and walking into a real recording studio for the first time, stars in all of our eyes and enough excitement to fill the entire city.

Our first bus tour where we held video game tournaments in the back and kept a running scoreboard throughout the months, coming up with punishments in each city for the loser.

Our first time we all had experienced true heartbreak and spent days on end in the studio, pouring it all out to each other and feeding off of each other’s pain but also healing it.

As much as I love Will and Lucas, they are my family. I had no choice in the matter on whether or not I was going to love them because they are my brothers.

But the three guys standing here with me, they were a choice. They are my family and my brothers because we all decided that we were going to be, and we were going to pursue this dream together.

And we did it. We made it.

And somewhere along the way, we broke it.

“No matter what happens after all of this, I will always love you guys. And it doesn’t matter what time of day, what is going on, I will always, always, be there for you when you need me.” I look them each in the eye as I promise this, but linger the longest on Reid. I clearly have let him down, and I never want to do that again.

He swallows and dips his head, breaking my stare.

Having had some time to pull himself together, Walker speaks again, shaking the hair out of his eyes. “We got one final show. They don’t know that out there,” he says, head nodding toward the crowd, “but they are seeing the last Whisper Me Nothings show. Let’s make it one to fucking remember.”

His words bounce between the four of us, charging the air with a renewed sense of energy, of purpose. You can see it on everyone’s faces; the mournfulness of the moment clearing away for a look of determination.

As one, we all lean in close one final time, completely in sync with each other as if we’ve done it a thousand times because we have.

Our foreheads meet in the center of our huddle, everyone’s eyes closing and breathing in on a silent four count, followed by exhaling on a silent four count.

One last time.

We pull back, and I take one last look at Reid, at Nikolai, at Walker, and soak it in.

The stage lights dim and the crowd yells their excitement, knowing the time has arrived.

Walker grabs the drum sticks from his pocket, Reid shoulders his guitar, Nikolai shakes out his hands, and I slip my white pearl bass over my head that I’ve been playing for our last few shows. I’ll retire it permanently after this one, hang it on the wall of my home studio like some sort of morgue.

We turn to face the stage, and as one, we step forward together.

“Y’all have been a beautiful fucking crowd tonight; make some noise for yourselves!” Nikolai yells into his microphone before holding it out toward the crowd, capturing their screams.

“We have one more song for you tonight. I know you all know this one, so sing it loud,” he says, before walking back to the center of the stage. On his way there, he ducks his head down and wipes a hand across his cheek discreetly. To the fans, it likely looks like he’s wiping sweat off his brow or scratching an itch.

But I can see the escaped tear before he can swipe it away. He glances over at me with a sad smile and I shoot him one in return.

This has been a great show. A really fucking great show. From our first song, we have all just been in the pocket. Our transitions have been seamless, Nikolai and Reid have hit every single note with clarity and perfection, and Walker has broken two drumsticks with the power he’s been playing.

The crowd has been going crazy the entire time, their energy fueling our own. Looking out over the field toward the carnival lights in the distance, I can see people trying to watch our show all the way back to the walking areas between stages.

If there was a way to go out, this is a damn good one to do it with.

Reid’s opening chords ring out and a renewed round of cheers break out at the recognition of our most popular song.

I place my hands on the top of my bass, knowing I have a bit until my part joins in and just soak in the moment.

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