Page 86 of Your Rhythm
“There’s no point lying about it or pretending it’s not true,” he begins. “We were going down. That first thing Kay wrote about us was actually pretty fucking accurate. We need to stop making excuses about why this isn’t working and just start making it work. We don’t have all the answers and not everything’s perfect for us, but so what? People would literally kill for what we’ve been given. Now we have to prove we deserve it.”
There’s a moment of silence before Ace speaks up again.
“And Shayla? What about Shayla?”
“Like I said, we don’t have all the answers. Maybe we’ll have to make another two albums with a label we don’t trust and work with a manager we don’t like. We’ll move on. We can be bigger than all of them someday, but that only happens when we stop acting so fucking small.” He pounds his fist on the table and I notice a few people look our way. “This is all we’ve talked about for years and I’m not giving it up. I want this. It’s time to decide if you really want it too, and if you don’t you might as well leave this table now.”
He pauses. I realize that while a thousand choices might come afterwards, deciding to go forward from this moment together is going to be the only one that matters.
No one moves. Cole nods.
“Good. That’s what I thought.”
I clear my throat. “If we do this...”
I have to stop. What I’m about to say goes against everything I’ve told myself I stand for, but if I don’t get this out now, nothing is going to change. Kay and I’s words from that day in the Old Port echo through my head.
I can’t abandon them.
You can’t abandon yourself, either.
I try again.
“If we do this, we have to go all in.Allof us. I admit I fucked up and I’ll be better going forward, but I’m tired of this being one-sided. I’m tired of putting in more than I know I’ll get back.”
I glance at Ace and find him glaring.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he taunts.
I could go with insults. I could give him hell for all the shit he’s pulled on us these past few months. I could call him an asshole and a selfish bastard and every other name in the book. Instead, I try some honesty.
“It means I want my friend back, Ace.” I pretend JP and Cole aren’t there and ignore the burning in my face as I force the next words out. “I miss you.”
Five years of late nights and early mornings and thousands of songs on hundreds of stages pass between us in the look we share after that.
“Okay.” He slaps a palm down on the table, his voice hoarse. “All in. All of us.”
JP thumps his hand on the hardwood next. Cole and I follow suit.
“Now,” Cole urges, “let’s go on stage and make some noise tonight. We’re pretty fucking good at it.”
He’s right. We are. For tonight at least, I know that will be enough.
