49
Sasha
It’s the weekend before my first show with the band at the Pilgrim, and Lillian and I are in Quinn’s basement, where Wavelength rehearses. We’re working on vocals in a spare bedroom while Quinn and Cyprus hash out some drum and bass parts. When we hit a roadblock, she plays her new song for me.
“Hangman Forever.”
I must look slightly concerned when Lillian finishes singing, because she says.
“Don’t start worrying about me. You’ve written songs. You know they’re an accumulation, not a moment.”
She’s right about that. Songs are exaggerations and calculations and passions combined. I should know better than to worry.
But my songs for Admirer were pure shimmer and romance. I don’t know how to lay my hurt that directly on a page. I’m more comfortable with the talk of forever than the talk of goodbyes and endings.
When a fear’s that close to me, I can’t speak it like Lillian can.