Page 27 of Verses

“The night is still young,” I said, knowing I wasn’t about to drop a penny on anything with his shitty attitude. It pissed me off, because Marv knew we brought in a crowd when we played actual shows. That it had been a while shouldn’t have mattered. When he set the glass in front of me, I said, “Hold that for just a minute.”

“Holdwhat?”

Ignoring him, I stormed over to the stage and back to the mike. Granted, it was a weeknight so the place wasn’t packed, but there were a few people—and some of them had seemed to enjoy our music. I said, “Attention. Can I please have your attention?” When a few people looked my way, I asked, “How many of you are enjoying the tunes?”

Several people clapped. One guy closer to the entrance said, “Good stuff. But do you guys know more than just that one song?”

I started laughing and got ready to explain what was going on—when Crazy Stu emerged from the corner booth. “They know way more than that one song. An’ Hayley’s gonna be famous someday.”

Holy shit.Crazy Stu knew my name?

And loved my voice?

“I’m humbled. It’s, uh,Stu, right?” I was pretty sure he wouldn’t like thecrazymoniker attached.

His pierced face lit up like the Fourth of July. “Yeah. I’m a big fan.”

“Thanks, Stu. That means a lot.”

“But you’re goddamned right,” Marv yelled, cutting through our conversation. “We’re all tired of that fucking song.”

Even from the stage, I could see something cross Wolf’s face. “We’re practicing right now—and we’ll be really good at that song because of it.”

“Besides,” I said, returning to the bar, “we’re getting ready to play some other stuff after the break.”Crotchety motherfucker.

But at least now I could say I had a fan.

I was super impressed.Wolf knew every fucking song in our catalog.

And he knew them well—so well, he wasn’t looking at the strings or anything. More than that, though, he had a peaceful look on his face…an expression that looked something like bliss. I knew then that he hadn’t been lying about missing playing in a band.

The man was in his element.

He made our band feel fun again. And it wasn’t just me who thought that, either. Glancing around at my bandmates, I sawhalf smiles and twinkling eyes. A lightness. Something heavy being lifted from our collective shoulders.

No offense, Liam—but we needed this win.

I felt guilty even thinking it, but there was no denying how good Wolf was for us already. It might have partly been because of his calming presence, his quiet confidence, but it might have also been how he’d pushed us to move forward by proving we could learn other songs.

He was good, even for me.

I hadn’t really stretched myself, partly out of fear of being exposed as not being able to read music—but all these songs, already recorded, were easy enough for me to learn. I’d been putting in earbuds, listening to the songs on my walk to and from work every day and during the half hour when I opened before customers entered the building. For all the songs, if there were words I couldn’t understand, I was able to search online to find them—and then I practiced, practiced, practiced.

My voice would never capture the smooth, haunted sounds Layne Staley brought to Jerry Cantrell’s words…but at least I could sing it on key. Returning to our own songs for the rest of the night, I felt a familiar sense of home, of intimacy and understanding that informed my singing.

Meaning I, too, felt confident, commanding.

In charge.

When we got to our fourth song, “The Chase,” I realized for the first time that Liam’s lyrics were about getting high and how he would never experience it again the way he first had. Holy shit. When I’d sung it before, I’d just thought Liam had written about a girl who wouldn’t give him the time of day.

I wondered if I’d been the only naïve one in the group.

The fifth song was one of the first I’d written lyrics for. Called “Second Best,” it was a little personal—so I’d always foundmyself holding the mike close, shutting my eyes while I sang the poignant lyrics.

After that one, I wrote a lot of superficial stuff—because I didn’t want to get choked up onstage.

Now, though, there was an underlying current of strength I found myself drawing on as I told my old story.

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