Page 68 of The Sound of Us

“It hasn’t been a problem so far.”

“Is it the money? You promised me you’d keep enough of your inheritance to get you through law school.” He ran his hand through his silvery hair and a clump came off in his palm. He absently tossed it in the garbage can beside him as if it happened every day. I felt the hair lifting on the back of my neck and my mouth went dry.

“It started off being about the money.” I couldn’t stop staring at Noah’s hair. Why hadn’t I noticed before that it was getting thinner? Was this just an old person thing and he was going bald like his dad—I’d seen the pictures in his house—or was it thestress of trying to save the station? “I didn’t have enough to make it through my first year, and you’d already given me so much, I couldn’t ask for more—”

“I have connections everywhere.” Noah cut me off with an irritated wave. “I could have gotten you session work. I could have sent producers and music execs to hear your band play. I could have taken your solo demos to big names in the industry…” He heaved a sigh. “But no. Instead of coming to me… instead of following your real passion and using your gift to get you out of a jam, you chose to fuck up your whole damn life…”

Again. He didn’t say it, but the word hung heavy between us.

“Are you going to report me?” I would never have thought to ask that question before, but I didn’t know this Noah who yelled and thumped his desk. I didn’t know this Noah who I suddenly realized was too thin and too pale, and who didn’t even have a paper cup of coffee to replace what he’d usually have from his broken pot.

“No, you idiot, but I am trying to save you. I’m sick and tired of watching you sabotage yourself over and over and over again. Every time something starts going right, you do something to make it go wrong. You’re doing well at school and then you pull something like this. Instead of session work, you hook up with a band full of drug addicts. It’s like you don’t think you deserve a good life.”

“What do you want me to say?” A sliver of anger curled inside me. Who was he to tell me how to live my life? “I’m sorry?”

Noah drew in a shuddering breath. “Maybe I’m taking something away from you by not turning you in. Maybe this is a lesson you need to learn. I could just pick up the phone and that would be the end of your time here at Havencrest. No degree. No more working at the station. No show.”

My blood chilled in my veins at his thinly veiled threat. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“I would if I thought it would help you get your head out of your ass.” His voice rose in exasperation. “What the fuck is going on? You’re a smart guy, Dante, but do you really see yourself putting on a suit and sitting in an office cubicle day after day? Music is in your blood. The only time I ever see you smile is when you’re doing your show or playing your bass. Your music touches people’s lives. It speaks to them. And now you’ve put me in a position where I have to take it away.”

The weight of Noah’s words pressed down on me, suffocating me with the truth. Music had always been my solace, my refuge from the chaos of the world. Even though my focus had shifted to vengeance, the show gave me an emotional outlet. What would I do without it? My breath caught in my throat, and I felt like I was falling, as if I were in an elevator plummeting to the ground, every floor a person I had loved and lost and would never see again.

“It hurts me to watch you sabotage yourself,” Noah said, his voice breaking, pulling me out of the abyss. “Music. School. Life. Love…” He held up a hand to stop me from speaking when I opened my mouth. “I know about you and Skye. Anyone with half a brain can see it. You were supposed to stay away, keep yourself safe, but you fucked that up, too. I’m only surprised it lasted this long because you seem determined to destroy anything good in your life.”

Of course, he was right. I’d messed it up that very afternoon, and I didn’t even know why.

“You always said you didn’t want anything to do with your dad,” he continued on his unprecedented rant. “But your whole damn life is about him. You can’t keep punishing yourself because of what he did. You can’t blame yourself for other people’s choices or for things you couldn’t control. You’ve given up everything on your quest to destroy him, but from where I’m sitting the only person suffering is you.”

His words sliced straight through to my heart. He wasn’t wrong, but I couldn’t see another path. “What do you want, Noah?”

“I want you to believe you’re worthy of a good life,” he said. “You don’t need meaningless hookups, shady side hustles, or a drug-addicted band. You don’t need a degree you hate or a career whosesole purpose is revenge. You don’t need to worry that the people you care about will abandon you because they will always be with you—if not in person, then in spirit.” He touched his chest above his heart. “I want you to be the best man you can be. I want you to know you deserve the love of a good woman. I want you to have a career you love and music that feeds your soul. I’m canceling your show with Skye tomorrow to give you time to think seriously about your life. I want changes from you, Dante. Big changes. Or I will make that call.”

I asked Nick to come with me the next morning to clean out my rehearsal space.

Noah was right. I needed to make changes and one of them was to cut ties with the band. Two months ago, I wouldn’t have even considered asking for help. But Noah hadn’t just made me rethink my life, he’d made me realize that I wasn’t alone. I’d made friends since he forced me to put my hours in at the station, and it was time to open myself to a friendship that had been offered time and again.

Quinn and the other members of the band had come and gone by the time Nick and I arrived with Noah’s SUV. Jules was waiting for us inside, smoking a cigarette while tapping out a one-handed beat on her drum kit.

“I didn’t think you would ever walk away,” she said after I introduced her to Nick.

“Quinn made it easy. After I sent him the text telling him I was canceling the lease, he responded with ‘mushrooms chips pork rinds pizza coke.’”

Jules snorted a laugh. “What is that? His shopping list?”

“I think he was cataloguing everything he had in front of him. I’m guessing the mushrooms weren’t the fungi kind and the coke didn’t come in a can.” I coiled up the cords to one of my amps.

“I don’t blame you for leaving,” she said. “But your timing sucks. I had just got us a gig at the Ironhorse for Sunday night, and I was planning to text you to see if you’d do a one-off for old times’sake. They were going to pay double the going rate because they had a last-minute cancellation. Quinn promised he’d stay clean all week, but if he was sending you text messages like that, it was doomed anyway.”

I picked up my spare bass and played the bass line for B.B. King’s “The Thrill is Gone.” Jules joined in on the beat. Nick picked up my guitar and began to play. His sound was cool and clean and so damn good I almost dropped a note.

“Well, damn,” Jules said to Nick when we were done. “I’d invite you to jam with us anytime, but as of today, Dante’s Inferno doesn’t have a name or a rehearsal space.”

“I couldn’t sit out from a girl trouble song. Nothing else soothes the pain.” He shot a knowing glance at me. “You get it.”

It took me a moment to realize not only that he knew about me and Skye, but also that he had girl troubles of his own, and I regretted not being a better friend. My shock must have shown on my face because Nick laughed. “Isla isn’t very good at keeping secrets but I would have guessed about you and Skye after your first show together. Your chemistry is off the charts.”

“So… you and Isla?”

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