Page 78 of Knot Just A Fan

“Ash and I have chatted all day. We haven’t talked about the band or you with them as a rule. Just about us. Shit we’ve gone through. Places he’s seen in America—places I’d love to see. He still wants to do Route 66, and the Grand Canyon, and—oh my God, I’ve become one of those people. But mate, he’s so sweet, actually. And he becomes so shy when you say anything remotely sexual, but it’ssucha fucking turn-on. The shyer they are, the more radical it feels when they send you a dick pic or suddenly push you up against a wall and beg you to?—”

I lower the phone, and look around. Live music’s playing somewhere nearby. Two acoustic guitars. Some buskers as I cross to my platform at the station. I can’t see them.

But—I know those voices. That one, in particular. And this song.

I turn the corner, and there they are. On the platform opposite mine. Grayson and Enzo, guitar cases open at their feet. Acoustic guitars in hand. Singing a song.

There’s a crowd of curious onlookers, many of whom have clearly caught on to their identities. Two bonafide rock stars hanging out and entertaining for free.

I stand there, Cami babbling on at my thigh. I lift the phone to my mouth, eyes glued to Gray and Enzo who haven’t spotted me for the crowd shifting around to get a better look. “Cami, I’m so happy for you. Can I call you right back? Gray and Enzo arehere.”

“Oh, shit. It’s that time. Good luck. Go!”

That time? Oh, that bitch.

I press through the crowd, letting elbows bash me and feet nearly trip on me, saying excuse me until I stand right on the edge, right where you’re not supposed to when a train rolls up.

Grayson sees me first. His eyes go wide, and his smile reaches them. His dark hair is rumpled and in need of a trim, the silver threaded in his goatee glinting under the platform lights.

He elbows Enzo who looks around. His eyes land on me and he waves a hand. Then the crowd quiets down as Grayson says loud enough for all to hear, “This song goes out to the woman welove. Who stood by us when no one else did. Briella Phillips, this is for you.”

My heart feels swollen to ten times its size, sodden with tears that want to fall, but a laugh spills out of me. I cling to the handle of my small suitcase and a few people near me notice our exchanged stares, pinpointing I’m the Briella in question.

Everyone seems to pull away slightly, whispering behind hands, smiling, and many filming with their phones.

I lift a hand to my heart and hold it there, as the lyrics unfold around me to a mid-tempo ballad.

She gave the world, you took the time to say the things that never rhymed

She walked on by, you saw her ghost, she was the one you loved the most

but only in your head

because your head was stuck in sand

but now it’s shifted, now it’s clear

you were never more than just the sum of all your fears

But here I am, I’ll wrap it up and give it back with all the love

I never whispered, never uttered, never wanted to uncover

I can’t hide it now, the sand has shifted

I won’t hide it now, the clouds have lifted

because of you

because it’s true

Briella let’s go home and make it ours

Tears are splashing down my face. I’ve never felt more like melting into a puddle, or more worryingly, jumping down onto the train tracks and sprinting across to the other side. Instead I run for the tunnel, the steps, and up the other side. I come outwhere they’re still singing, Enzo on harmonies and rhythm while Grayson plays and sings the lead. And they stop the song as soon as I appear, and both wrap me in a hug I will remember until the day I die.

“We’re sorry for what we did, what happened. All of it. Please, come be with us. Wherever you are is home, Briella. Please don’t let this break us up before we’ve had a chance to try.”

Grayson’s said this loud enough for everyone staring and filming to see and capture it. I take his hand, and turn to Enzo and take his.

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