Page 8 of Verses

“C’mon, Hayley. None of that hippie-dippy shit, okay? Liam can’t write any more fucking words or music…and he won’t be up on stage shredding anymore. Our band died the day he did.”

“I don’t believe that.”

Kyle’s icy stare made me shiver. “You just haven’t realized it yet.”

Trying hard not to sound argumentative, I said, “No, Kyle…you’re grieving. It’s—”

“I might be grieving, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. We’re not the same without him.”

“Okay, that’s fair. And you’re right—we won’t ever be the same without him—but that doesn’t mean we can’t still be a good band.” These were all words I’d said before and, suddenly, I felt exhausted.

Completely drained.

“It actually does. The rest of us are fucking hacks.”

Jesus…it was hard trying to be sympathetic when he couldn’t stop insulting the lot of us. But feeling insulted and hurt wouldn’t solve shit.Hadn’tsolved shit. I had to get past that crap once and for all…like taking a machete to overgrowth. “You’re wrong. And I’m going to say something that might not sit well with you, so please bear with me.” God, I felt like I was talking my mother off a figurative ledge again, something I’d gotten pretty good at over the years.

Kyle’s eyes said the words he wouldn’t speak. They said,you have one chance; make it good.

“You’ve lost your confidence, and I know it’s because we lost Liam. You’ll get that back eventually if—”

“No, that’s not it. I just know what I can and can’t do, and something you guys don’t realize is me and Liam weren’t just brothers. We were a team. We did that shit together—and Ican’tdo it without him. You heard it for yourself tonight.”

Holy shit.

Shifting on the sofa, I reached out a hand and touched his knee. “I don’t think you’re being fair with yourself.”

He let out another long sigh before making eye contact again. “You’re lying to yourself, Hayley.” As I screwed my mouth into a knot to keep it shut, he said, “Think back to when we first put the band together. Me and Liam…we played together long before anybody else joined. You started singing just ‘cause you knew a lot of the songs we played. It wasn’t till a while after that that we had an actual band. And I played rhythm to Liam’s lead. That’s the way it worked and I loved it. I was good at it.”

“And you don’t think you could ever play any other way?”

“With Liam, it was no stress. And now you guys are putting this pressure on me to learn all the shit Liam did. And I…”

Were we? After his voice faded and several long, heavy seconds passed, I asked, “Look…what’s one of the things you love most about being on stage?” When he shrugged, I knew I wouldn’t get an answer. “The limelight. The attention. Adoration of our fans.”

Unexpectedly, he burst out laughing. “Fans? I wouldn’t consider Crazy Stu a fan.”

Maybe most people around Charlotte discounted the guy because he’d earned the modifiercrazydue to having at least fifty piercings in his head, most of them in his cheeks, but he was at the bar to listen to our music at least two nights a week. Still, I wasn’t about to argue the point. “You know what I mean. We have followers.”

“Whatever.” When Kyle shifted his eyes back to his hands, I was worried I’d lost him.

“Wedo. And you always said that was the best part. You were the guy who said if you could bottlethatfeeling and breathe it in whenever you wanted, you wouldn’t need to get high.”

His eyes met mine again. “Yeah. So?”

“So…imagine how many more people would bask in your glow if you were the only guitarist. If you weretheguy driving the sound. You would getallthe attention and our audience would eat it up. You wouldlovethat.”

“I wouldn’t get good attention if I sucked.”

“But—”

“You know it’s true. I mean, I can come up with a solo on occasion. But Liam and I made solostogetherand we were really fucking good at it. There were all kinds of shit we were good at.Together. And now you guys want me to do the impossible. It feels like running with one leg—and you guys are pressuring me to do it.”

“No, Kyle. We…” I studied his eyes. “Don’t you even want totry?”

“No, I don’t—and it has nothing to do with confidence. It has everything to do with knowing what I can and can’t do.” Sitting up straight, Kyle looked around the room before staring at me again. “Here’s an idea. Why don’t one of you guys start playing guitar? You only sing, Hayley…so why don’tyouplay lead guitar?”

“I don’t know how to play guitar.” He already knew this but apparently needed reminding.

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