Chapter 43 Liam
forty-three
Liam
Two Weeks Later
The beat-up rehearsal space off Sunset reeks of sweat, weed, and old amps.
There’s nothing romantic about it.
Somehow, with the light cutting through the dusty windows and the anticipation of what’s to come, I feel like I’m seventeen again. Back when Connor, Padraig, and I dreamt of being in a band together. Before all the shit.
Of course now there’s more on the line and a hell of a lot more history.
Avonna adjusts the mic stand while I tune my guitar. She’s barefoot, hair piled in a loose knot, wearing a threadbare black tank she always steals from Linus. It slips off one shoulder, exposing her tiny dove tattoo.
Padraig watches her with curiosity, not judgment. He knows her, at least a bit from the festival circuit when we hung out. He knows Linus manages her and we’ve been writing together.
He still doesn’t know…everything.
She nods at him. “Ready when you are.”
“Been ready.” He spins a stick between his fingers. “Let’s hear what you two cooked up.”
She shoots me a quick glance, somewhere between you good? and hold on tight. I step closer to the mic to count us in.
We launch into the first song we finished, Unbreakable Thread. Her voice rises. The words tumble out. Clear. Raw. My bridge is urgent, biting.
Padraig’s face lifts.
When the last note dies, Padraig exhales. “Uh, that was…” He stops. Looks back and forth between us. “Fuck. Somethin’ else.”
Avonna grips the mic nervously. “Thanks?”
“In the best way,” my twin assures.
I strum my guitar. “We’ve got a few more.”
We tee up the next one called Reckless Grace. It’s faster, heavier. A chunk of melody, a shout of truth. For the first time in years I see my brother come alive a bit.
Next, we play him my favorite, Closer to the Flame. Avonna gets so lost in the emotion, her voice cracks on the chorus. It brings to mind all the nights we’ve spent writing over these past few months. The unabashed, unquenchable desire.
Three of us tangled like wires.
I’m hard as a fucking rock listening to her.
When it ends, she exhales and I allow the final chord to linger.
Padraig’s eyes are wild. “Fuck me.” He wipes his face. “I knew you were writin’. I didn’t expect this.”
“Well.” I watch him carefully. “What do you think?”
“I think these songs could save us.” He folds his arms. “Truly.”
Avonna’s face reddens. “Really?”
He shoots her a genuine smile I haven’t seen in a while, then he nods at me. “Brilliant.”
I glance at Avonna. She peers up at me through the fringe of her hair.
It’s validating. She and I know we’re creating magic. Life-changing magic. I’m thrilled Padraig feels the same way, even if he hasn’t been part of the songwriting process for the first time in Fireball’s history.
We run through a few more songs, barely speaking, letting the sound carry. It’s the closest thing to communion I’ve felt in months. Padraig watches in fascination, shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
When we finish, he leans back, breathless. “Jesus Christ.”
“No good?” I flick my sweaty hair out of my face.
He laughs, full-bellied. “Cut the modesty bullshit, you know how good it is.”
“Been on a roll.” Relief floods through me, masked by a shrug.
He scrubs his chin. “Clearly. I didn’t realize how much time you’ve been spendin’ together.”
“We kind of found a rhythm. It’s been organic.” Avonna sits on the edge of an amp.
Orgasmic, too, I think to myself.
“I knew you were talented, but…” He gestures loosely at her. “You’ve brought somethin’ I never even knew was missin’.”
I watch him process. He’s definitely not upset, it’s more like he’s connecting the dots. Or trying to.
He misses wildly.
“Wait…are you two going to release these songs as a duo?” he asks cautiously.
“Not exactly.” She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Liam, Linus, and I have talked about an idea. It’s why I’m here tonight.”
I shift my weight, on the verge of freaking out. We agreed not to push but Avonna has an uncanny sense of timing. Seems like he’s opened the door.
Avonna’s keeps her cool. “I know this will sound presumptuous, so I hope you’ll hear me out.
I’ve been a solo performer for a few years.
Fireball needs a singer. I’ve never enjoyed being on stage alone, front and center.
I don’t care about being a star. I care about making music with impact.
The chemistry Liam and I have found in our songwriting,” she gestures to me, “feels like it should be more.”
Padraig’s eyes bug out. “You’re serious?”
“I don’t want to fuck up your dynamic.” She touches his arm. “But, I’d love to be considered for your open singer position.”
I watch his face closely. He doesn’t speak right away. Finally he plops down on the ratty couch. “Fuck me.”
Avonna laughs nervously. “Not the reaction I was hoping for.”
“No, I mean, we’ve been stuck. Me, especially. I’ve been trying to care again. I have no motivation to write. It’s been…” He exhales. “Rough. I’ve been strugglin’ with whether I want to keep goin’.”
“Dar,” I swallow. “You told me you needed to take a break. We’ve taken a break. I don’t want you to hear about you quittin’.”
“Truthfully, it’s the way I was feelin’.” He glances between us. “I didn’t think I had it in me to start again with a new singer. But hearin’ this? Playin’ this?” He shrugs. “It’s wakin’ me up.”
Linus gets up from the chair in the corner he’s been sitting in like he’s been waiting for a cue.
“I fuckin’ knew it.” He claps my brother on the shoulder. “Knew you’d feel this way the second I heard the songs.”
Padraig rolls his eyes. “Of course you’ve already heard them.”
“Well, yeah. I’ve got a plan.” He claps his hands together.
I smirk. “Don’t you always?”
He lays the folder on top of a speaker. “Let’s do it right this time. No more van. No more couch surfin.’ Full relaunch. EP first, three singles, build the momentum. We tour the States. Then Europe. I’ve got a bookin’ agent ready when you say the word.”
Padraig raises a brow. “Oh, and who’s payin’ for all this?”
“First, invite Avonna in. Then, officially sign with Isis.” Linus shrugs.
“We’ll front the money for you to release them independently, distribute the way LTZ does through a major.
This’ll leave the three of you with more of the profits.
I’m scoutin’ for a better publisher and, more importantly, I’ve got a Grammy campaign strategy.
You saw what I did for Sidewalk Riot. Fireball can go bigger.
At least three or four of these tracks are song-of-the-year worthy. ”
Linus glances at me, then Avonna. “What you two are creatin,’ it could be the heart of Fireball.”
I look down, throat tight. For a second, nobody speaks.
Then Padraig claps his hands like a madman. “Fuck it. Let’s do it. I haven’t felt the creative flow and I’d love to write with the two of you going forward.”
Avonna’s breath hitches. Her eyes dart between me and Linus. She raises one shoulder.
I ignore her.
“You sure?” My eyes snap to Padraig and the familiar way he loosens his wrists and tests the bounce of the sticks against his palm before he sits down at his kit.
He smacks his snare. “Aye. I’m in. Firin’ on all cylinders.” His smile touches her like a blessing. “Avonna, you were the missin’ piece.”
She moves, instinct more than choice, closing the space between us, like she’s done a hundred times since we started this relationship with Linus in Dublin. Her hand brushes mine. No hesitation.
Trust.
Except, I don’t meet her halfway. I shift slightly. Enough to avoid her touch. Allow the moment to pass.
To anyone else, it’d look like nothing. But Linus sees. He always sees.
And he knows.
Padraig, oblivious, adjusts a cymbal. “Let’s run through them, yeah?”
“Okay.” Avonna misses nothing and everything all at once. “Count us in, Liam.”
I do.
The first chord lands like prophecy. The three of us fall into sync without a word. Her pure voice soars, juxtaposed against my gravely growl. Padraig’s kick hits like thunder.
The melody she and I first wrote after fucking each other raw in Dublin was on the edge of something neither of us could name at the time. It’s reborn here. Polished under California sun and twisted sheets and everything we’ve become.
Now with my brother’s tasteful percussion, the sound is massive. Unstoppable.
After all the years. The heartbreak. The grind. Sleepless nights in broken vans. Shitty clubs and furious fights and second chances, I feel it in my bones. Fireball is finally complete.
Linus doesn’t move from the corner, but I feel the shift in him. Gravity pulling away.
His eyes drop. Not out of anger, but sorrow. He understands the reality of the situation. When he and Avonna confronted me a couple weeks ago, I promised we’d tell Padraig about us when the time is right.
The time isn’t right. Not now.
The truth is, as much as it’s gonna kill me, I’ve decided to cool things off with the two of them for the time being. Fireball and Padraig are the most important things in my life and nobody comes before my brother.
I’m taking my time to ease him into this new normal. At my pace.
If what I have with Linus and Avonna is real, they’ll understand.
She’s everything I never knew I needed. Linus has owned my entire heart from the second we met. The three of us together make sense in a way nothing else ever has.
We’re a hushed harmony. A perfect balance I never believed I’d find, let alone deserved.
With them, I’m whole.
But Padraig is my beginning. My blood. The one person in my life who’s never let me down.
Linus knows me better than anyone. He can tell when I’m pulling away.
Fireball comes first.
Even if I’m risking everything else.