Page 33 of Giving Chase

Because mine is absolutely shattered.

Speechless

CHASE

The familiar scentof old amps and stale coffee greets me as I push open the door to our rehearsal space. It's been our sanctuary for years, but today it feels different. Charged. Important.

Will and Mark are already here, lounging on the battered leather couch that's seen better days. They both look up as I enter, matching grins on their faces.

"Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence," Will quips, but there's no heat in it.

I'm about to retort when the door opens again, and my words die in my throat. Eliza walks in, looking every inch the powerful executive in her tailored suit. It must be a board meeting day. Our eyes meet, and for a moment, I'm transported back to every stolen glance, every secret touch we've shared over the years.

But, she's not alone. Ryan Crawford from Indigo King follows, his easy smile and tousled dark hair a stark contrast to Eliza's polished appearance. Behind him is Jude Lockwood, Indigo King's bassist, his tall frame slouching as if trying to take up less space. And finally, Jake Townsend of Murderous Crows, his long blonde hair tied back, eyes darting around the room asif mapping escape routes. We all know each other, having toured together multiple times, so no introductions are needed, and fist bumps and handshakes make their rounds.

"Gentlemen," Eliza says, her voice steady and professional. "Thank you for meeting us here. We have some details to discuss about the induction ceremony."

As everyone settles in, I can't help but notice the slight tremor in Eliza's hands as she opens her folder. It's barely noticeable, but I've known her long enough to recognize when she's unsettled.

"So," Jude drawls, breaking the silence, "are we here to worship at the altar of Incendiary Ink, or what?"

Will snorts. "Please, like you're not honored to be in our presence."

"Boys," Eliza interjects, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Let's focus. We have a lot to cover."

She outlines the plan for the ceremony, and I find myself leaning forward, hanging on every word. The three songs we talked about, but not individually. A medley. Other bands playing along with us in tribute. It's exciting, but also overwhelming.

"The speeches will actually be longer than the performances," Eliza explains. "Chase, that means you'll need to prepare something substantial."

I nod, my mind already racing. What can I possibly say that will encompass everything this band has meant to me? Everything Eliza has meant to me?

"Jake," Eliza continues, turning to the quiet frontman of Murderous Crows, "we were hoping you'd take the lead onWhispered Truthsduring the medley."

"Wait, what?" I interrupt, surprised by the force in my own voice. Everyone turns to look at me. "I mean... shouldn't I be singing that one? It's kind of... personal."

Eliza's eyes meet mine, and for a moment, her professional facade cracks. I see a flicker of something – understanding? Longing? – before she composes herself. "We thought it might be nice to have a tribute element," she says, her voice slightly strained. "But if you feel strongly about it..."

"I do," I say firmly. "That song... it needs to come from me."

The room is silent for a moment, the tension palpable. Finally, Jake speaks up, his voice soft but clear. "I think Chase is right. It wouldn't feel right, singing that one." He pauses, then adds, "How about I takeBurning Bridgesinstead? That song's always resonated with me."

I feel a rush of gratitude towards Jake.Burning Bridgesis a powerful song, but it doesn't carry the same emotional weight for me asWhispered Truths.

Eliza nods, and I see her swallow hard before speaking. "That's a great suggestion, Jake. We'll adjust the arrangement accordingly."

As the meeting continues, we dive into the nitty-gritty of the performance. Ryan and Jude chime in with ideas for harmonies and instrumental breaks, their excitement palpable. It's surreal, hearing our music dissected and reimagined by these talented musicians.

Throughout it all, I find my attention continually drawn to Eliza. She's in her element, commanding the room with an ease that never fails to impress me. But there's something else too – a tension in her shoulders, a tightness around her eyes that only someone who knows her as well as I do would notice.

When there's a lull in the conversation, I seize my chance. "Eliza, can I talk to you for a second? About the song arrangements?"

She hesitates for just a moment before nodding. "Of course. Let's step outside."

In the hallway, the professional facade Eliza's been maintaining cracks slightly. "Chase," she says, her voice softer now, "what's this really about?"

I take a deep breath. "I just... I wanted to make sure you're okay with all of this. The song choices, the memories they're bringing up. I know it can't be easy."

Something flickers in her eyes before she tries to school her features. But this time, I see the cracks in her armor. Her voice wavers slightly as she speaks. "It's... it's fine, Chase. This is about the band, about your legacy. My feelings don't factor into it."

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