92
Sasha
Some nights there is no luck. Some nights you’ve used it all up.
93
Lillian
Liv James starts trying to solve it, because Wavelength is shell-shocked.
“We can push the opening back a bit more.”
She turns to Emelia.
“I saw you in the older band videos Christensen sent, right?”
Emelia nods.
“Good, that’ll work. You can borrow Marky’s bass so if you don’t know the words you won’t seem useless onstage. It’s mostly set up already. Does Sasha pull this sort of shit a lot? Because you can’t have that in a band. Remember when I was in bad shape?”
“Wish I could forget,”
says Veyda.
Quinn answers.
“This isn’t like Sasha at all. They’re here for the people they care about. And they were excited to meet you guys.”
“Very invested in this show too,”
says Cyprus.
“Almost as much as Lillian.”
Sasha wouldn’t leave us here.
Unless. Augustus off his charges and promoting Admirer. Monochrome Stoplight posting about Wavelength. The Channel.
“Is Isabelle like Isabelle?”
asks Emelia.
“Someone called Isabelle just texted Sasha.”
Cyprus says.
“Fuck, what if she’s here?”
“Isabelle?”
asks Quinn.
“That’d be amazing.”
“No, Heather Erin,”
I correct him.
“What does the message say?”
“It’s locked.”
“Wait,”
says Liv James.
“Heather Erin, the Channel manager?”
Christensen comes crashing through the door. He’s out of breath, barely balancing a tray full of empty glasses and bottles.
“Did you guys know Sasha and Heather Erin just left in an airport taxi together?”
Liv James is looking from Christensen to me to Emelia.
“Anyone, please, catch me up.”
I can’t figure out who knows what.
“Christensen, who do you think Sasha is?”
“Sasha Weaver, Wavelength member.”
His eyes are darting all over. The man can’t lie to save his life.
“Did you know?”
I ask.
“Since when?”
Christensen is still holding the tray.
“Do you know?”
“Know what?”
asks Liv James.
A lot of looks get exchanged between me, Quinn, Cyprus and Emelia, ending with Quinn saying.
“Sasha’s somewhat more famous as one half of Admirer.”
Liv James’ eyes widen for a second.
“The helmet one or the douchey one?”
“The helmet one,”
says Cyprus.
Monochrome Stoplight is taking this news surprisingly well. I guess they’ve seen some shit.
“I like the helmet one,”
says Liv James.
“Why are they here exactly?”
“Long story,”
I say.
“I’ll tell you after the show.”
“Taylor IDed Sasha the first time they were here,”
says Christensen.
“It’s right on Sasha’s license. Alexander Moore, west coast address. The name felt familiar to Taylor. It was bugging them, so they mentioned it to me. But Sasha seemed to be getting along fine. I let it be.”
He picks a drink off the tray and finishes it.
“I’m pissed they’d just head off with Heather Erin before a show. Leaving you guys out to dry. Why would they do that now that they’ve terminated their contract?”
“Sasha’s contract isn’t terminated,”
says Cyprus.
“Sasha can’t terminate their contract until they’re twenty-one.”
Christensen looks confused.
“Together, Sasha and Augustus can terminate that contract anytime they want. It’s not even that hard. They lose the band name and the rights to the songs, but their dad negotiated with the Channel and Heather Erin so they could leave. I’ve read that contract. He left Sasha and Augustus a way out.”
Quinn sets down his drumsticks.
“Sasha doesn’t know that. Heather Erin never let Sasha read the whole contract. They told me.”
Christensen takes another drink.
“That’s very illegal. Also, evil. What are you doing?”
Quinn is rummaging in Cyprus’s coat pocket for her car keys.
“We’re going after Sasha, right? We’ve got to get to the airport and let them know.”
Inside me, it clicks. That Sasha wants to stay. They don’t want to leave us and they don’t want to leave me. And whether that means we’re lovers or friends or bandmates or something else or some combination, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.
But even more than Sasha wants to stay, they want to keep us safe. They don’t play the show. They don’t take anything with them. If they’re good and obedient to the Channel, maybe the Channel leaves Wavelength alone.
“If this is some leftover tragic masculine silent self-sacrificing hero bullshit,”
I say.
“I am going to kick Sasha’s ass.”
Cyprus is already checking the route.
“The airport’s across the city. We won’t ever make it back in time.”
I’ve almost forgotten that Liv James is standing right next to me until she says.
“Are you sure Sasha wants to stay? Or that their brother will agree to terminate the contract? Or that you’ll make it before they leave? That’s a lot of ifs.”
“They’ve done the same for me with a lot of unanswered questions.”
I put my coat on, zip it up, turn to Monochrome Stoplight.
“I’m really sorry to bail on you. But Sasha’s in the band.”
“You’re right,”
says Cyprus.
Quinn holds up Cyprus’s jacket.
“Where are your keys?”
“Victoria dropped me off!”
Liv James sighs.
“You’re the best openers we could have possibly picked. I don’t even have to hear you play to be sure of it.”
She presses a bundle of keys into my hand.
“Take our van.”