Page 80 of Deliverance

It’s the middle of the week and she still hasn’t responded to my message and it’s driving me mad. She’s the last person I think about before I go to sleep and the first person I think about when I wake up.

It’s infuriating and disturbing on so many levels, but at the same time, I revel in this strange need. I bathe in the electrifying cloud of desire to see her again.

I probably never will.

But who cares?

I’ll still fantasize. Because no other woman comes close. No other woman has managed to make me want her this much after dumping several pounds of paint on my body and then throwing me into the street, half-naked with the said paint still all over my skin.

It was quite the experience.

My car suffered the most. My pride took second place.

But now when I think about what happened, I don’t remember the anger. I only remember the alarming feeling of loss. The very second when the change came. Rolling across our bodies like a wrecking ball, crashing that fragile connection, ripping that delicate thread.

I did something wrong and I don’t even know what and it’s been eating at me like acid, corroding my brain.

The only time I don’t actually think about the incident is when I’m behind my kit.

Music has been and always will be my best friend, my therapist, my salvation.

By the end of day three, I’ve managed to knock out eight tracks and there’s one song left to record. It’s the only banger on the album—save for the last two that I’ve yet to hear—with its signature double bass.

When I question Toby about the promised demos that evening, he tells me that Leo is working on those as we speak and that I shouldn’t worry much about the remaining songs. It’s going to be something different. My guess is it's an acoustic since I’m not needed.

Turns out, I’m wrong.

On day four, Leo finally graces us with his presence. He shows up in the control room as I power through the final part of the second take on song number nine. Toby went out to grab some food and it’s just me. Alone with my drums. Julian is a ghost. Luca is as invisible as one can be in a space filled with recording equipment and existential angst. Bursts of adrenaline are riding my body, its buzz deep in my veins.

At first, I don’t catch it. Things are muddy whenever I’m behind my kit. Because in those moments, nothing else matters.

Leo crosses over to the console and stands next to inconspicuous Luca, shaking his head to the beat, staring at me through the thick glass. A wolfish grin curves his mouth when our eyes meet. He greets me with a slight tip of his chin and continues to watch until the song finally ends and I exit the booth.

“Hey, man.” I run a towel around my neck to wipe off the sweat and take him in. There’s something different about him today.

“You’re a fucking beast.” Leo claps my back enthusiastically. “I didn’t expect you to be done so fast.”

“It’s all pretty straightforward,” I supply.

The only song that requires more effort on my part is the one I’m working on at the moment, but I expect to nail it by the end of tomorrow.

The day after, Jacob and Toby are slated to start tracking guitars.

“Okay, so.” Leo scratches the back of his head. “I want you to listen to something.” His voice is a mixture of excitement and dread. “Where’s Toby?”

“Went to grab some food,” I explain.

“Okay, okay, okay.” He bangs his knuckles against his chest and fishes out a USB from the pocket of his jacket. “This”—his gaze flicks back to me—“is the one.”

I’m not sure what he’s talking about, so I nod.

“You know how you wait all your fucking life to writethe song?” He licks his lips and shoves the USB into my face. “This is my song.”

“I hear you, man.”I see you too. You’re fucking high, you tweaking piece of shit.

Annoyance and fury pool in my chest.

“Let me call Toby.” Leo slaps his phone to his ear. “I want him to be here for this.”

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