Page 111 of Deliverance

“Sore.” I don’t elaborate. I’ve already discussed the state of my bones enough times today.

Toby sets his case on the floor next to the kitchen island and grabs a few nuts from the small serving plate my mother arranged earlier. She has this insanely ridiculous habit of making sure there are snacks everywhere in my house. In the dining room. In the kitchen. Out on the terrace.

“Cool digs.” Toby bobs his head and tosses more nuts into his mouth. “Neighbors don’t bother you?” He juts his chin toward the window overlooking the house next door.

“No. They’re only here during the summer.” The place looks mostly empty except for during the holidays.

“That’s good.”

“Who’s the artist?” Leo takes a step forward and continues to study Drew’s artwork as if he’s seeing something there no one else does.

“She’s local,” I say, suddenly feeling protective and unwilling to share. I know I’ll have to. Eventually. But not yet.

“This is some deep shit, dude,” Leo mutters, then turns to face me, and for the first time since we started working together, I see him.

I really see him.

I don’t know whether it’s the afternoon light streaming in or it’s these couple of weeks we’ve been apart, but he’s lost more weight and it’s not the vegan diet. Pale as a ghost with dark circles beneath his eyes, he reminds me of those toxic nights when we had to shoot up Chance with heroin just so he could get through a damn set without falling off stage.

A shudder rolls through my gut.

I try to forget the throbbing pain below my ribcage and head toward the hallway that leads to the ground floor, where my studio is.

Leo and Toby follow.

We spend the first hour messing around with my gear and going over the demos. While I was out, Leo rerecorded the vocals on one of the tracks and it sounds a bit better. The second one could still use some polish.

Ultimately, they don’t need me to finish the last two songs. I can easily lay down the drum parts at a later date, when playing doesn’t feel like my insides are being ripped apart. This is more of a goodwill visit, but this is the way it always goes when music is all you do. You eventually end up tossing ideas around, then jamming to see how those ideas actually sound live.

Soon, the quick get-together turns into a four-hour session with beer, pizza, and vegan burgers.

It’s almost midnight when we’re done reworking the first track, and my mother has gone to sleep. My sides scream each time I sit down, so I’ve been pacing most of the evening. I also skipped the pain meds and now my anxiety is in full swing, rushing through my veins.

“You think it’s good?” Leo asks for the hundredth time after he plays the demo the three of us just knocked out.

“I think it’s a solid track,” I confirm.

Toby sets his guitar aside and starts walking around to stretch his legs. He comes to a halt in front of my turntable and then plugs it in.

I’d forgotten that the last vinyl I listened to was the Zero Ecstasy album—the one Drew gave me—and the low-note riff that fills the room sends my pulse into a sprint.

Leo nods to the leisured groove of the song and gives me a look that I take as a sign of approval. His face twists in concentration as he latches on to the lyrics. We listen to the first half of the track without any commentary.

“Fucking genius!” he bellows at the beginning of the second chorus, impressed.

Toby lowers the volume, but Leo protests. “Nah, dude! Play it from the beginning.” Then he looks at me. “You have the lyrics?”

I snatch the sleeve from the shelf and hand it to him.

“Zero Ecstasy, huh?” Flipping it, he stares at the back side. His eyes, wild and fiery, devour each and every detail. “Which track is it?”

“‘Hang on Another Day’.” I point out the song.

The music has started again and Leo is now humming along with the tune. His voice is rough, low, and on the verge of breaking, and the realization of how fitting his vocals are chills me to the bone.

Ignoring the steel pain wrapping around my ribcage, I move to my kit and settle in. Toby grabs his guitar. We’re missing a bass, but for now, what we have is enough.

Adrenaline surges through me like molten lava and I let it lead me because trying to control this animal is useless. It’s a force that’s been dormant for far too long and it needs an outlet.

---