Chapter 30 #2
“Yeah. Mom did the best she could, though. I don’t blame her. The system’s broken. The game’s rigged to cycle endlessly. Poverty’s systemic.”
“Agreed.” She cocks her head to one side. “Don’t answer this if it’s too intrusive, but what’s the first thing you did when you got paid after you signed?”
I hesitate because no one knows this story. “I bought a cabin.”
“I didn’t think you owned a house?”
“For my mom. She always dreamed of owning a home and said it was gonna be a little cabin on a lake. She worked so damn hard for us, and she deserved to be taken care of for once.”
She smiles softly. “God, they were right. You really are an ungrateful monster.” After a pause, she asks, “What do you do for fun?”
“I originally bought my first van because I was traveling to work as a session musician, and van life made sense economically. I was eighteen, living in a five-thousand-dollar van I converted myself, eating gas station hot dogs, and sleeping in Walmart parking lots, but I felt like a fucking king. I was doing work I loved, and for the first time, I was truly independent. And then I started exploring state and national parks in between jobs, and I fell in love. The peace I felt standing next to a lake staring at the Tetons or hiking a red dirt path through Arches National Park was like nothing I’d ever experienced.
It was healing and transformative. When I wasn’t on tour, I spent every minute camping.
I’ve always been a solitary person, so discovering camping was like opening a portal to another world when this one was overwhelming. ”
“I’d never camped until I went out on the road with you guys. I liked it a lot more than I thought I would. I can see how that would’ve been life-changing for you. Do you still have that van?”
“No. After I bought Mom her cabin, I sold the old van and bought the Sprinter I have now. I felt guilty spending that kind of money, but I justified it because it was my home, my transportation, and my sanity all rolled up into one.”
“What about your tattoos? Obsession or hobby?”
“Souvenirs from my travels. And therapy. A little bit of both.”
Just then a scream erupts from somewhere in the house, and instinct takes over. I bolt upright and am standing at the door with my hand on the knob in under two seconds.
“Ev, stop. Put some underwear on before you go into battle.”
Soph’s voice rouses me out of my fight response. I look down, realize I’m naked, and search the floor for the shorts I had on when I made us coffee earlier.
Soph shimmies into a pair of black shorts that match the camisole she’s wearing.
Everything in me relaxes when I hear Jess call out, “Hell yeah!”
Pulling on shorts, we meet at the door. It’s not life or death, but we’ve both decided we should go see what’s going on.
Jess and Lola are in the kitchen, huddled around Benji. All eyes are on his phone. Lola’s bouncing in place.
“What’s going on?” Soph asks as she shrugs on a satin robe. It’s black and the bright red script on the back reads: Fueled by coffee, metal, and smut. She said it was a birthday gift from her sister. I love it.
Lola squeals again.
Benji, the true adult in the room, says, “Rock royalty shared a Thicker Than Water video and then followed it up with a post defending Ever.”
When Jess’s eyes meet mine, his smile grows impossibly huge. “He’s basically told the haters to fuck off.”
“Who?” Soph and I say in unison.
Lola spins on her heel. “Ladies and gentlemen, Gus Hawthorne has entered the chat.”
I walk to a stool at the counter and take a seat, because I need to sit down for this kind of news. Gus is the lead singer and guitarist for one of the biggest bands in the world, Rook.
Soph takes the stool next to me, leaning forward and resting on her elbows. She’s looking at Benji because, clearly, Jess and Lola are too amped up to tell the story logically. “From the beginning,” she says.
He sets his phone down so it’s facing us. He rests on his elbows and leans in, tapping the screen a few times until the video Soph posted a few days ago of us covering Rook’s “Killing the Sun” plays.
“Rook shared this late last night.”
The text written over the top of it reads:
Who are these dudes and where did they come from?! THIS IS EPIC!
Jess pumps a fist in the air and then shoots finger pistols at me. It’s ridiculous, but I’d be disappointed by anything less from him.
I shake my head in disbelief.
“Then what?” Soph asks Benji.
He swipes the screen. “An hour or so later, Gus shared the Treachery’s Riot post about Ever’s identity.”
The caption with it reads:
Much respect to the legacy of Treachery’s Riot and the innovative music that will live on and forever inspire.
You changed the game. You rewrote rules, ignored genre, and steamrolled norms. Hats off to you.
Can’t wait to see what you pull out of your bag of tricks next, Ever.
And to those of you bashing the breakup, or his new project, or the leak of his identity, remember there’s a human fucking being on the other end just trying to live his life. Be kind, not shitty.
Soph spins on her stool to face me. “Have you met Rook? Do you know Gus Hawthorne?”
I shake my head. “No.”
Her eyes narrow.
I hold my hands up and can’t help but laugh at the suspicious look on everyone’s face. “I swear, I’ve never met them. It’s one of those don’t meet your heroes situations. Their first album is the reason I started writing my own music way back. Gus is a legend.”
“That album was a banger,” Lola agrees and looks at Soph. “Remember, it’s all we listened to for months?”
She nods as she stands. “It’s still one of the best albums ever made. Be right back.” And she disappears into her bedroom.
“I’ve always heard good things about Rook, like how nice they are. I guess it’s all true, isn’t it?” Jess is standing in the middle of the kitchen with his hands on his hips. He looks as stunned as I feel. “This is fucking wild, Ev.”
“I need to thank him,” I say, dumbly. “We need to thank him. Properly thank him. He didn’t have to do that.”
Soph returns with her laptop and phone. When she hands me her phone, Gus’s post is on the screen. I type out a comment while she logs into her laptop to make things that shouldn’t be possible, possible.
Two hours later, everyone’s crowded around my cell, staring at it, willing it to ring. Mabel’s making another batch of brownies because we killed the first pan in record time. And me? I’m pacing up and down the hallway, trying not to let anxiety crush me. The meds haven’t kicked in yet.
When my phone rings, I freeze.
“Unknown number. It’s gotta be him, Ev,” Jesse calls out. He pulls off his hat and puts it back on backwards. He’s fidgeting. He’s nervous too.
Sitting down, I take a deep breath and tap to answer. It’s not until I see his face on the screen that I realize it’s a video call and prop my phone up against a water bottle on the counter.
“Oh shit,” I whisper in awe because it’s surreal seeing the man who made me want to be a songwriter on my screen. “Hey, Gus.”
“Ever!” he booms like we’re old friends.
I pause, dumbstruck. And then I shake my head and laugh a little. “I’m sorry, I’m just… I can’t believe I’m talking to you right now,” I say, honestly.
He laughs, and it’s deep. “You stole my line, dude. I can’t believe I’m talking to Raven, unmasked. This feels illegal.”
I’m oblivious to what’s going on around me until Gus waves and says, “Well, hello there.”
“Oh my,” Mabel says from behind me. “Hello there, yourself. I’m sorry to interrupt, but with a voice like that, I had to see the hunk attached to it.”
Gus pushes his Ray-Bans up into his hair, and his eyes crinkle at the corners when his grin stretches wide as I make introductions. “This is my friend Mabel. Mabel, this is Gus.”
I step aside so Mabel can get closer to the screen.
She’s wearing her apron, cradling the big mixing bowl like a baby in one arm, and stirring the batter with a big wooden spoon.
She tips her head back a little to look through the reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose.
“It’s certainly a pleasure to meet you, Gus. ”
“Likewise, Mabel. What’re you making?” Gus asks.
“Double fudge brownies.”
He puts his hand to his chest and leans back in his chair. “A woman after my own heart.”
“You have a sweet tooth, sweetie?” Mabel asks with a flirty smile.
Watching them interact so effortlessly and casually is putting me at ease. Or maybe the meds are finally doing their job.
He pats his nonexistent belly. “Afraid so. My wife loves to bake, and everything she makes is killer. Blessing and a curse, you know?”
Before Mabel can answer, we hear, “Dad, what’s for lunch?” and a young boy with long blond hair leans in next to Gus. When he looks at the screen and I see them side by side, he’s a miniature version of his dad.
“Veggie burgers. We’re going to Uncle Keller’s for a barbecue when Ruby wakes up from her nap and Mom, Kate, and Clover get back from Nana’s. Say hi to my new friends. That’s Mabel and Ever,” he says pointing to the screen.
Mini Gus waves, and he’s every bit as laidback as his dad. “What’s up, Mabel and Ever?”
“Hi,” Mabel and I say. We’re both smiling because this kid is so cute we can’t help it.
“This is my son Gracen.” Gus points at the screen again and looks at his son. “Grace, you know who this dude is?”
He shakes his head.
“That’s Raven from Treachery’s Riot.”
The kid’s eyes go wide, and his jaw drops like a cartoon character. After a second or two, he snaps it closed and squints at Gus. “For real? Are you joking, Dad?”
Gus laughs at his skeptical expression. “For real. It’s him.”
He’s staring openly at me now but talking to his dad. “But he’s not wearing his mask. How do you know?”
“Ask him?” he prompts.
He leans on the arm of Gus’s chair, and his face enlarges as he gets closer to the screen. “Are you really Raven?” he whispers. The wonder in his voice is surreal, considering who his father is.
I nod. “I am.”