Page 27 of Next Time I Fall (Excess All Areas 2)

“You guys go ahead, I’ll take the second car in a minute,” Jase said. “I need to talk to Cerys about vocal lessons.”

Cerys eyed him uncertainly as he watched the band leave the building. “You’re going to do them?”

“Fuck, no. But I think you’ll be honest with me about something. Do you think we should drop that song?”

Cerys took a deep breath. “I feel like that’s something you should decide between the band and Jimmy and Parker.”

Jase leaned on the doorframe, just as her father had, but his silhouette reminded her of those viral videos where a nerdy guy suddenly gets red-lit from behind and reveals a smoking hot six-pack. She was glad the office lighting wasn’t so great that he could see the embarrassment that tinted her cheeks pink.

“I don’t want their answer. I want yours. You’re the only impartial one here that I can ask.”

“What makes you think I’m impartial? At the end of the day, we both know we’ll end up doing what the two of them want.”

“Yeah. But even if that is what we end up doing, I need to know ... I need to figure out if I’m right, if I should trust my instincts on this.”

Cerys stood and walked up to him, looking up into his eyes. “Yes, Jase. You’re right. The song isn’t your strongest by far and it doesn’t compare to many of the others.”

Jase blew out a breath and lowered his head. His shoulders dropped away from his ears. “Sometimes I feel like I’m losing my mind, when it’s me against every other fucker in that room.”

“It’s not you. But as a band, you need to learn how to communicate with each other. You can’t honestly want another twenty years of this, can you?”

Confusion etched his features. “What do you mean?”

“My fitness app tells me that my heart runs a steady fifty-nine beats per minute usually, but the last three days with you, I’ve run at seventy-two. I feel anxious listening to you all bicker and yell and insult each other. I thought you were family.”

Jase looped his fingers around her wrist. It was late. They were alone for now, and somehow the touch of him grounded her. “At the end of the day, wearefamily. And the only way to get out of the hand-to-mouth existence we live in is this band. We either all get out, or none of us get out.”

“But do youenjoyit?” She placed her free hand on his bicep.

“The singing? It’s the only fucking thing I have in my life. Being on stage in front of people is the only time I feel like my life has any kind of purpose. I feel the roar of music and the chant of the crowd, the vibration of it tattooing my rib cage. Their voices etched inside me. It’s the only time I feel the blood in my veins and remind myself I’m actually alive. But this process, with them, with Matt? No. I don’t. I fucking hate it. But I hate being broke more than I hate arguing with them. I hate that my nan has a mould problem in her house we can’t get under control. And right now, I know Ben or Alex will be texting with their mum, even though it’s two in the morning, to make sure she’s okay because their dad is a ruthless bastard. And Luke. Well, he has every reason to hate me and Matt, but we couldn’t get out of this and leave him behind.” He ran his hand through his hair, pushing the curls out of his face. “I gotta go.”

“Wait. What if I could suggest some rules and tools for collaborating together that you could use to make the sessions less stressful for you all? Creativity can’t flourish in a place of anger.”

Jase shook his head. “Some of the best creativity comes from difficult emotions, Cerys. Pearl Jam’s ‘Release’ about Vedder finding out his father was his stepfather and his biological dad dying.A Long Way Gone, the book, based on Beah’s time as a child soldier in Sierra Leone. Munch’s paintingThe Screambased on an anxiety attack. Creativity can come from every emotion.”

“I think you’re confusing inspiration with creativity.”

“Semantics.”

“Not really. Creativity was the act of Vedder figuring out the words to express his emotions and putting those words to music. The inspiration for the song was a traumatic event in his life. But without the creativity, that story would just be a memory of Vedder’s.”

Jase’s fingers held her a little tighter for a moment. It was the only action that reassured her he’d heard what she was saying.

“Where does your creativity thrive?” she asked.

Jase slipped his fingers from her wrist. “Good night, Cerys.”

She sighed as she watched him go, knowing he’d already told her the answer.

5

On Friday, Jase realised he’d sung the minor key—the rest of the band had played the major chord for the twentieth time in a row—when he heard Luke smash the crap out of his cymbals.

“You know why I keep singing minor?” Jase raged. “Because that’s the way the song flows, the way that first chorus ends and rolls into the second verse, the way the second verse approaches the bridge, it needs that minor to make it unpredictable, to give it edge. The song sounds too fucking light otherwise.”

Matt shook his head and sighed.

Jase glared in his direction. “And you can huff and puff over there like one of the three little pigs, but it won’t make any difference to the fact you wrote this wrong.”

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