Page 51 of Reggie and Delilah's Year of Falling

Finally, Yobani breaks the silence. “Sounds like a game to me,” he says with a smirk.

“Yeah, whatever,” I laugh, grateful he’s making fun of me. I’d rather have that normalcy than us being all in our feelings. “It’s not like that. I’m done with the games.”

And I mean, what I’m doing with Delilah is sort of a game. But not in the same way keeping my interest vague or standing her up was.

I’m just trying to be the person I wish I was with her, my ideal self. The Reggie who doesn’t give a fuck and is authentic all the time, no matter the audience. And I don’t know—maybe if I keep doing this for her, keep pretending I’m this person, I’ll actually transform into him.

Just a Normal Friday in May

Delilah

I’ve been coming to The Mode with the guys since I met them last fall. I’ve seen everything from big punk acts just past their prime passing through, to experimental folk duos with fiddles and nails-on-a-chalkboard voices. It didn’t even really seem to matter what the music was, if the guys liked it or not. Being a part of the crowd, a part of this group collectively experiencing something, was the point. Tonight’s crowd is, by far, the biggest one I’ve ever seen.

And they’re all here to see Fun Gi.

I didn’t let myself assume at first or get my hopes up. It was completely possible that they were here to watch Undead Jupiter or the Orange Bananas, the two bands that opened for us. But the crowd only swelled after each of their sets, and now that we’re about to go on, the audience is so big that Jimmy is surely looking the other way on a fire code or two.

“Let’s do this!” Charlie shouts, a giddy smile on his face. He steps out on the stage with his head held high, like it’s always beenlike this—or at least, he’s always expected it to be. Cheers erupt from the crowd, and Asher bounds out after him. Beau gives my arm a reassuring squeeze and follows. They’re all excitement, no nerves. But I guess they’ve stayed that way through all of this: accepting the attention, blossoming in the sunshine of it—instead of feeling like an ant under a magnifying glass, like I do.

It’s all because of the video. After I left the comic book store, I went over to Charlie’s and the four of us completed a social media investigation, all the while swiping away the constant notifications. It started with a post on TikTok from someone that was in the audience, and then there were the stitches and duets, followed by reposts on Instagram. It even popped up on Twitter and Facebook, the old people watering holes, so my mom caught wind of it too. Andre let it slip that she even showed it to the other teachers at their faculty meeting, telling everyone who would listen that her Lilah-girl was famous.

I already had my personal accounts that I use to look at memes locked down, thankfully, so no one found me. But the band’s socials blew up. Spotify streams, TikTok followers, Instagram likes... all the numbers are higher than I even know how to process. It’s slowed down from the chaos of that first day, but we’re starting to see those numbers translate to real life. Like this crowd.

Oh my god, this crowd. Just looking at all these people from backstage is making my heartbeat speed up double time and my head spin. But it’s not a migraine this time. Only anxiety and imposter syndrome, which are honestly almost as bad.

I glance back at the band, and Charlie is looking at me funnyand jerking his head to the side. I need to get my butt in gear already.

I walk up on stage, slow and steady, and the sound of the audience is overwhelming—definitely two times what they gave the guys. And the loudest voices of all are coming from the very front, where Georgia, Leela, and Ryan are standing. Georgia is howling and twirling her hands in the air. She promised she wouldn’t be conspicuous when I finally told her she could come to a show, but we both knew she had no intentions of keeping that promise. And now I’m grateful for her presence, even as she begins to chant “DE-LI-LAH!” like she’s at some sports thing. I laugh, and calm spreads through my body. I’ve got this. These people are here because they already like us. And that’s probably the very best crowd to play for.

I step up to the mic, pull the stand close. “Hi, we’re Fun Gi.” They scream, and I smile wide. “We’re gonna start with a song you might know. It’s called ‘Parallelograms.’”

Beau plays the steady beat on the bass drum that starts the song, and I take down the mic so I can dance along. But a loud voice in the audience makes me stop short.

“OH, THIS IS THE BAND WITH THE BLACK ONE!”

I zero in on a white guy in a Vampire Weekend shirt in the front. His friends next to him shush and shove him, but then they explode into laughter.

“WHAT?!” the guy shouts. His eyes are red and droopy—the kind of droopy that makes it clear he has no idea how loud he’s being. Somehow in his haze, he sees me looking at him, and he just shrugs.

That’s when I notice the music’s stopped. I turn to see that everyone in the band is staring at me—Beau with concern and Asher and Charlie with thinly masked irritation. I missed my cue. And I must have been so late, so lost, that they couldn’t even keep going and play it off.

My whole body feels like it’s on fire, and from the way Charlie is glaring at me now, as I continue to draw this out even longer, I wouldn’t be surprised if there actually were flames appearing at my feet.

I look back to the crowd and this time all I see Georgia. Her hands are clutched together, and she’s mouthing something. The third time she says it, it clicks: “You got this, sissy.”

And somehow, that’s enough. I believe it.

I laugh into the mic. It sounds fake to me, but they won’t be able to tell. “Sorry about that! Just got distracted by all your beautiful faces.”

People—lots of people, more than just my sister and friends!—laugh, too. And from somewhere in the back, a husky voice calls out, “WE LOVE YOU, FUN GI!” They’re right there with me.

Beau starts “Parallelograms” again and I’m ready this time. I hit every note, twirl and scream and howl and kick, and give this crowd the show they came for. And when it’s over, I’m dripping sweat and breathing heavy and my legs feel like Jell-O, but I know with certainty that was the best set I’ve ever had.

I look into the crowd to see what that guy thinks now, but he’s already gone. I do see my sister though, and she’s bowing down to me, even being so dramatic as to try to get down to the floor. ButRyan and Leela giggle and keep her up because they know just how disgusting those floors are. I blow them a kiss and follow the guys backstage.

Charlie starts in immediately.

“What happened, Delilah? Did you get, like... stage fright?”

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