Page 5 of Over the Edge

“But your couch is more comfortable than mine,” he whines. “Also, I'm getting a poster made of this frame. Do you want me to send you one too?” Wes pauses the video right before I hit the ground face down. Up until seeing the clip, I was happily living under the delusion that I was found at my desk. Watching myself stand up to reach for my bag before I hit the thinly carpeted flooring is something I could have lived without.

I shouldn’t be looking at screens to begin with. The doctor told me I have a minor concussion from the fall. I’m actually surprised it wasn’t worse now that I’ve been given this viewing experience.

God, then Evelyn was there. Of course she was, I didn’t give her much of a choice in the matter since I was the one who put her name down as my emergency contact the moment she moved here.

Evelyn’s one of those people who will do anything for anyone if they so much as ask. But that’s not the reason why I chose her. If someone had to show up for me, I wanted it to be her. I just didn’t expect it to ever happen. Or for her to show up in that tiny fucking dress that showed off those lethal legs of hers. Those damn legs. Any small amount of pleasure I got from her beingthere was shut down with the reminder I screwed up all those months ago.

She’s been in my life forever. It was years after the band broke up when I started seeing her differently. It snuck up on me and I still can’t shake it. When it came to her moving day, I wanted to help but being alone with her for hours on end? I just couldn’t do it. I ran away at the last minute and fucked the whole thing up.

“At any point are you going to ask me how I’m doing, or should I go change and lock myself upstairs until you leave?” I ask as I take a step toward the doorway. I might as well get Holt’s mandated vacation over with and start packing.

“I was under the assumption you would deflect if I did.” Wes smirks. Fair. If he didn’t show up, I’d have avoided talking to him about it. My guess is that Evelyn told Avery, who told Wes. Lovely.

“So, your response instead was bribing security guards so you could shove it in my face? Really warms my heart.”

“Eh, you don’t have one of those,” he says, then pats the couch next to him. “Come tell me about your worries and woes.”

I accept his weak invitation and slump onto the couch next to him. “I had another migraine.”

“Shit, man.” Wes sits upright and turns to me with the first hint of genuine concern. He knows about the migraines. They’re episodic and only really triggered by stress or major life changes. Usually, if I can keep everything together then I don't have to worry. I rarely had them on tour, but once I started at Columbia Law School, they were a constant companion. A reminder that if I wasn’t ahead of everyone else, I was falling behind.

“I’ll be fine,” I insist. “I’ll make junior partner at the firm at the end of the year then I’ll be fine.” It’s what I’ve been promising myself for months. It’s been what I’ve been working for since I was fourteen and was sent off to get the best high school education I could. I’m so close I can practically taste it.

Wes’s eyes narrow. “Is this the first one you’ve had recently?”

“Yes.” No. They’ve gotten bad enough that I’ve been keeping medication with me. That’s what I was reaching for in the video. “I’m taking a vacation, though. There’s no need to worry about it.” Wes doesn’t need to know the vacation is against my will.

“Glad you’re taking care of yourself this time. This way I won’t have to worry about you in LA. I mean, you could come with me now that you have some time off. Be like the good old days when it was us on stage.”

“And babysit you so you don’t ditch rehearsal for a once in a lifetime party with a rooftop pool that is exactly like every other party we’ve gone to with rooftop pools?” I say to avoid a conversation I don’t want to have.

I don’t mind an award show after party or helping my clients, but two weeks around rehearsals for a tour I’m not a part of? I can’t do that. Music was only part of my path, but it’s a part I’m done with. I don’t need to be distracted by that now.

“I’m turning over a new leaf. I’m a new man. I started meditating,” he says.

“Since when?”

“This morning, but that’s not the point,” he explains too quickly for me to comment. “I’m going to try. It’s going to be different this time.”

I know he’s not talking about trying for the tour or rehearsal, or even the endless interviews, he has an easy charm that the public hasn’t stopped falling for since he was seventeen. No, Avery is who he’s concerned about.

“Great. See you don’t need me there. You’re an adult, even if most fifth graders are better at communicating their feelings.”

“It’s not my fault these younger generations are all about mental health and self-advocacy. I’m repressed, as is my right as a millennial,” he asserts.

“I already know where I’m headed,” I remind him. “There’s a porch railing I’ve been needing to fix, and I should work on my truck.”

“You’re going home for two weeks? The last time you did that was…” his cheeks puff as he lets out a long, contemplative breath. “Damn, we were in high school,” he says referring to the times I would fly home from St. George’s. It was the boarding school in Nashville where we and the other two members of the band, Drew and Jared, met.

“I guess I’m due for a longer visit then.” I shrug, like I haven’t been avoiding this since I was eighteen.

3

Evelyn

“The new Morgan Tuesday album is what Lyla West’s last album was trying to be. The storytelling, instrumentals, and lyricism were exactly what we expected from Lyla in a break up album, but where she floundered, Morgan delivered,” says Clement Meryl, one of the two hosts ofGet Out of My Headpodcast.

His co-host, Walt Parish, picks up on the train of thought, adding his own comment. “I think three solid albums was too much to ask from Lyla. But I think I’m going to say what’s on everyone’s mind. People don’t care about Lyla West anymore. We liked the whole faceless celebrity with a hidden identity for the first few years, but after five years? It’s tired and drawn out.”

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