Page 12 of Reggie and Delilah's Year of Falling

“Our girl is a star,” Charlie says, kissing me on the cheek.

He has never donethatbefore. My body goes haywire trying to process that at the same time that my brain is shutting down. Okay, meds first, analyze what the hell that means later.

“Great set, you guys.” Jimmy walks up and claps Beau and Asher on the back. “Delilah! A triumph! I’m loving the Poly Styrene vibe.”

“That’s exactly what we were going for!” Charlie answers before I can even respond. Which is a little annoying, because I’m not even sure Charlie has listened to X-Ray Spex before. I found them all on my own.

Charlie has started a monologue on all of Fun Gi’s many influences when someone touches my shoulder. I turn to see Ryan Love standing there in all her glory. She’s wearing a lavender organza dress with a short, full skirt, and shiny black Doc Martens. Her half-shaved hair is dyed electric red and slicked back under a gold star crown, and her septum piercing has a dangly star to match. I swear she glows, but that also might be the effects of myincreasingly blurring vision.

“Delilah, right?” Her voice is musical, like twinkling chimes. I nod, and she beams at me. “Girl, that was everything.”

I’m grasping for the right words, but my brain is jumbled and I feel like I’m trying to pluck them out of a thick fog. “Thank you,” I squeak out, finally.

“Well, we’re about to go on,” she says, gesturing to her bandmates. A girl in a sage-green jumpsuit is helping Beau pack up his precious drums so she can move her own kit in. “But weneedto play another show together. You are so badass!”

“Yeah.” Another simple word that takes way too long to find. “For sure.”

She skips away and I turn back to Charlie. I tap him on the shoulder, interrupting his conversation with Jimmy.

“What’s up?”

“Will you come with me to get my meds from the car?” I point to my head.

“You got a headache?” I wince. Not a headache. A migraine. They’re very different things. But I don’t have anything left in me to argue semantics now, so I nod, my head punishing me for even that slight movement.

“Uh...” He sighs, leans in closer. “It’s just that... Jimmy and I are talking about booking another gig. And I don’t want to miss Ryan Love and the Valentines’ set. It’s bad form.” He rubs my back and hands me the van keys. “I’m sorry, but you get it, right? Maybe one of the guys can go with you?”

Beau is busy with his drums, and Asher is talking to two girlson the ripped floral couch they keep backstage.

“It’s fine. No big deal.” I force a smile and walk out alone.

Thirty minutes later, I’m sitting on the curb outside of the donut shop, willing my body to get its shit together.

I took a pill, but they don’t work immediately. And even when it does kick in, it makes me feel less awful, but not exactly better. My limbs get all shaky and weak. And everything is on a delay, my mouth moving before the words get there, as if my wi-fi is lagging. My head feels like it’s filling up with cotton balls.

Plus, the relief is so fickle. If I move my head too much or hear something too loud, the migraine will come thundering back. But I won’t be able to take another pill for hours.

So even though I can hear the first guitar riffs and Ryan Love’s signature scream start up, I have to stay out here, alone. I can’t risk these meds not working and this migraine haunting me for days.

This is just my life. I don’t get to enjoy anything all the way. I always have to worry about things being too much. I should have been keeping better track, so it didn’t get this far tonight.

God, Ryan probably thought I was cold, standoffish, with my clipped answers. I hope I didn’t ruin the band’s connection with her. Or Jimmy. I hope he doesn’t think I’m rude for not being in there right now. I don’t want to mess up things just as we might be on an upward trajectory. Not that we’re on an upward trajectory because of me, I guess. But... I don’t know. Maybe.

The music gets louder and then there are footsteps. My head jerks up. I regret it immediately.

And it wasn’t even anything to worry about. Just a guy walking out of The Mode. He has deep brown skin and a low fro with a taper fade. He’s wearing round gold-rimmed glasses and a black hoodie. He’s not threatening. Looks pretty geeky, actually. I feel my shoulders relax.

“Hey,” he says, noticing me looking at him. He gives a little wave, but then looks at his hand and quickly shoves it in his pocket.

I nod back, not trusting myself to speak without puking. But then that just makes it so much worse, so I attempt a smile and then put my head between my knees and wait for the world to stop spinning.

Reggie

I didn’t intend to follow the girl outside. I promise it wasn’t like that.

I mean, Ithoughtabout following her when she ran offstage so fast. I probably could have got backstage with Leela’s help. But by the time I was done going back and forth, obsessing over what I might actually say to her, Yobani came back from his marathon shit session. And then before I knew it, Ryan Love and the Valentines were going on and it would have been weird to peace out then. So I stood off to the side, nodding my head even though this type of screamy, scratchy music isn’t really my jam—at least it wasn’t until I saw the most beautiful girl in the world put her spin on it.

I was there for a few songs when Yobani decided to jump in with the people thrashing and slamming into each other in the middle, leaving me behind. And Leela was in the very front, all heart-eyed as she swayed and mouthed along to all the lyrics. So I figured my friends were too busy to care about me dipping out for a second.

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