Page 16 of Sing for Me
It sounds just as good the second time.
The third time, I hum along to work out the melody of the verse.
Drew doesn't offer commentary on the lyrics or the melody. He's all guitar, all the time. As long as he gets total control of the guitar track, and gets solos in a handful of songs, he's happy.
Well, happy is relative. Drew isn't exactly a happy-go-lucky guy.
"What about a major-to-minor there?" I offer.
He shoots me anare you really giving me advicelook, but he does try it. Then he tries something else.
Then something else.
That’s it.
We both know it.
I nod.
He starts from the top.
This time, I make notes of the cadence as I hum through the song. Usually, I'm strictly lyricsthenmusic. But that doesn't exactly endear me to the other guys in the band.
We go through it again. Again. Again.
Until there's a knock on the door.
"You two are going to hurt my feelings." Pete is standing on the door frame. His black hair is the same shade as the makeup lining his eyes. And as his shirt, jeans, and sneakers.
The guy has a look.
"Get your emo ass in here if you want to play," I say.
"You've been checking out my ass?" He winks. "Don't let Cindy know. She gets jealous."
I guess that means they're on. Lately, the two of them break up and get back together every other week.
Drew attempts to hide the frustration creeping onto his face, but he fails miserably. As much as I love starting shit, I know better than to press this issue. Pete is madly in love with his high-school sweetheart. Drew is adamantly against relationships of any kind—his certainly failed spectacularly enough.
I'm not about to tell our bassist he's a poor sucker for believing in love. He knows my feelings on the subject. It blows up in his face often enough that he must feel it too.
Love destroys everything beautiful.
When it destroys him, I'll be there, ready to write another fucking song.
That's all the four of us know how to do. Shit goes bad, we play. That doesn't always fix things, but it never hurts.
"Your girl gonna get jealous if you go to your brother's party?" I tease.
"Which one? Tom throws a party every other night," Pete says.
"This weekend," I say.
Pete shrugs.
I look to Drew. "You bringing your friend... what's her name? With the nice tits?" I remember Drew's friend Kara vividly, but the guitarist is suffering from some delusion that the two of them will be flirty friends forever.
She's cute, smart, and sweet. She won't have trouble finding someone to warm her bed. If it's not him...
