Page 81 of Worth the Trouble

While our off time is usually spent recording or prepping for our next move, this down time has been different. Instead of making my own music, I’ve been helping others create theirs. And even if it’s been fulfilling, I almost forgot how good it feels to lose myself once more in my own.

I close my eyes so I can see the music the way I feel it. Bright sounds with dark undertones running through them. A crescendo of something that used to remind me of pain, but now hints at peace. It used to sound like midnight and now there’s a moon brightening the evening sky.

Life where none should exist in a universe this big. No gravity or air to contain it. Endless.

I’m no poet. Never a lyricist. But as my fingers vibrate with the strings, I almost hear a whisper of something echoing deep for a girl I can’t get out of my head.

My life experiences taught me love is bullshit. Inevitably, all people leave or break your heart. So why did Lili have to creep her way into my house and my music? And what is this feeling she draws out of me?

Is it love to want to consume her?

To want to drain her?

To want to have her?

Or is it love that I know better than to do any of those things because eventually, I’ll be letting her go? Because taking even an ounce of her would leave less of her for herself, and that idea kills me more than the thought of never seeing her again.

The song fades out and my thoughts of her ink black hair and endless galaxy skin vanishes.

I open my eyes and Sebastian is grinning. “Fuck that felt good.”

It really did. I didn’t realize how much I missed playing these past few weeks. But with my fingers aching and the music still humming in my ears, it’s clear. And from Noah and Eloise’s smiles, they feel the same.

It’s moments like this that I appreciate playing for no other reason than to just fuck around with the band. Having fun with music without the added pressure of a label’s expectations. No weight of fame, no outside opinions. Last tour going up in flames might have been a secret blessing.

I never thought I’d be a musician who would need a break. But for the first time in years of touring, I’m not missing it right now.

“You get to play this weekend, right?” Sebastian asks, turning to me.

I nod. “Yeah, Izzy had something come up with her family, so I’m stepping in at the Manic Idols show.”

“Jealous.” Noah tips his head back and groans, looking like he’s missing the stage as much as I am.

I might not be anxious to head back out on tour, but I can’t wait to feel my feet on a stage again, even if it’s with another band. Besides, it’s a small gig at an otherwise unknown venue. People will actually be there for the music.

“Who else is fucking starving?” Noah asks, standing up to stretch his legs.

He sets his drumsticks down and heads toward the kitchen with Sebastian on his tail.

“Be right there,” Eloise says, crouched over her guitar case.

Sebastian and Noah disappear, and I walk over to Eloise. “Hey, got a sec?”

She looks up at me as she shuts her guitar case. “Of course. Something on your mind?”

In her eyes, I already see the wheels in her head turning, trying to figure out what I could possibly want to talk about. It’s weird for me because I don’t talk, I deflect. But this shit inside me is so loud I’ve got to get it out. And Eloise feels like the easiest person to talk to about it.

“Yeah, I guess.” I sink down to the ground and take a seat facing her.

She sinks back and crosses her legs, waiting for me to speak.

“How did you get past it?” I ask, feeling like a punk for having to, but also because I’ve been really fucking lost lately.

I might have convinced myself I’m tough and nothing gets to me, but being around Lili makes one thing clear—I’m not as over the shit from my past as I thought I was.

“The rape?” She’s so blunt, I almost flinch.

I nod. Although Eloise’s rape and the abuse I experienced as a child are two very different things, trauma is trauma. And while I never thought I was still affected, lately, I feel it like wires holding me back.

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