Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
“We’re heading over to Oak & Ash,” Sweeny says when we break for lunch.
I’m about to tell him Callie and I will join, until I see her dazed expression. She didn’t even hear him. She’s still trying to wrap her brain around what she’s already absorbed. The last thing she needs is another hour of shop talk over steak.
“Actually, I’ve been dying for a turkey club from Tiffanie’s,” I say instead. “We’ll catch up with you after lunch.”
“Oh! Is that the place with those bagels?”
I return a noncommittal shrug, silently willing him to forget bagels and stick with a juicy filet. By the time we reach the sidewalk, he’s jumped into Luke and Eli’s debate about guitar pick gauges and forgotten all about us.
I take Callie’s hand and lead her in the other direction to one of my favorite delis.
We get a few glances along the way, but no one approaches.
I can fly under the radar better than Luke.
People think they recognize me, but they’re not confident enough about who or why to approach.
Not like what Luke gets. I still can’t believe he managed to hide in that diner as long as he did .
It’s a gorgeous day, so after getting our orders, we find a bench under a tree instead of heading back into the studio.
Not that I’ll be able to eat with my stomach in knots.
While Callie unwraps her sandwich, I study the entrance to the studio across the street. It’s been a long morning within its walls, and the real challenge is yet to come.
Luke has been acting like everything’s fine, but his assurances that he’s ready are my biggest clue he’s not.
He’s terrified, and I doubt he’ll be eating much of whatever he orders either.
I feel Callie’s gaze and shoot her a quick smile. Although part of me wants to talk about my concerns, I can’t bring myself to burden her. Besides, I don’t know how to explain the strange mix of excitement and dread churning in my stomach.
“What do you think so far?” I ask instead.
“Pretty amazing. I’m tired, though.”
I huff a dry laugh. We’ve barely begun. “It’s a long day for sure. We still have at least another six or seven hours.”
Her eyes go wide. “Really? You’re finished with your part, though, right?”
I stifle another snort. My role won’t be finished until this song is mastered and sent off for release, but I don’t have the energy to get into all of that.
“No, I’ll help with the synth work after we get the guitars down,” I hedge.
That’s what she’s really asking anyway.
Her brows knit as she chews. “I don’t understand, though. If you’re playing drums, who plays the synths and keys at the shows?”
Great question. We’ve been using tracks for that since Luke’s departure. We’re already paying a guitarist to replace him and didn’t want to deal with a contract keys player also. If Luke comes back full-time, though …
I suppress the thought. One miracle at a time.
“We’ll usually get someone to play a lot of it live, but we run some in tracks too,” I say. “You just can’t get everything you want live.”
We tried doing “Where You Are” without the synth for an acoustic radio set one time and almost stopped halfway through because it was so bad. For months afterward, we laughed about the host’s forced enthusiasm for our mess.
“Oh! What an interesting twist on an NSB classic,” he’d said.
We still jokingly throw around the term “interesting” whenever we don’t like something.
“And I thought music was just a few guys strumming guitars,” Callie mumbles.
“Yeah, maybe fifty years ago,” I say with amusement. Wait until she finds out what goes into the production and engineering.
“I can’t wait to see you play live.”
Her sweet words make me wince. It’s a strange reaction to an innocuous statement. Especially since I’ve been excited for the same thing.
But now, reality is crashing in.
I haven’t been letting myself think about what’s next.
One step at a time. And in my head, we had months to figure it out.
After today, though, everything changes.
Luke’s return to the studio means attention and expectations.
Spotlights, appearances, and endless questions.
There’s no way the Label doesn’t try to capitalize on what’s happening in that recording studio.
Luke’s comeback will be a bigger deal than his fall.
Shit, I need to call TJ and make sure he fully understands Luke’s fragile state. We have to be very careful about what comes next. Do what we can to protect him and soften the blow.
I curl a smile to soothe the pressure in my chest .
“It might be sooner than you think,” I say.
Callie frowns, looking how I feel. “I thought you didn’t have to tour for a few more months.”
“We don’t, but we’re still going to play some shows before then. With Luke’s return, the Label is going to want to explode us back into the spotlight. I’m sure we’ll do some high profile stuff to build up for the tour.”
“And you think I’ll be able to go?”
I almost laugh. “You better go.”
She might be the only person who could coax Luke onto a stage right now.
“Well, I want to be there, of course, but I don’t know,” she says as she picks at the bagel in her lap. “I don’t want to get in your way. I mean, with Luke just getting back into it, I don’t want to mess with the band’s chemistry or anything.”
I stare at her. I don’t even know how to respond to that. “Seriously? Is that really what you think?”
Her gaze brushes mine and darts away.
It’s almost absurd enough to piss me off. How exactly does she think we’re going to move forward without the person responsible for the fact that we’re even moving? Luke will need all the support he can get, and it starts with this woman.
She has to understand that, so yeah, if it means stretching the truth a little, fine. Luke told me to convince her to stay. It’s a broad license I intend to use freely.
“Look, maybe now isn’t the best time to talk about this, but Luke and I had a long conversation last night after you went to bed. He’s serious about coming back, but he wants you to come with us.”
Her stunned gaze proves how much we needed to have this discussion. I thought she was finally starting to understand her value, but maybe I was wrong.
“He needs you, Callie,” I continue. “You’re his rock, his support, at least for now. He doesn’t believe he would have gotten here without you, so he’s not ready to let go.”
“Wait, what? Are you serious? He said that?”
Maybe he didn’t explicitly say it, but that’s what he meant. It’s what he’d say if he were sitting here right now.
“It’s true. Anyone who’s seen the two of you together can see how important you are to him.”
She shakes her head in slow movements as she studies the sidewalk. “Wow… and you think the guys will be okay with that? The Label?”
“Are you kidding?” I laugh out. “To have Luke Craven back on the bus? They’d let him bring an entire psychiatric team if he said that’s what it’d take. One girl from Shelteron, PA is nothing.”
She shifts to face me again, and I hold my breath, trying to read her as she scours my face. But all I’m getting is the typical concern.
“What about you? What do you think?” she asks. “I mean, I know this whole thing is strange. Luke and I have a very complicated relationship, but you know I’m crazy about you.”
Hang on. That’s what this is about? Concerns over jealousy?
Maybe a few weeks ago it would have been a passing thought, but seems completely ridiculous now.
“Hey, look, this whole thing is totally screwed up,” I say with a wry smile. “I know that, but I also think I understand it. I really do. What you and Luke have is very different than what you and I have, and I think the two can coexist.”
I know it can.
It has to.
Luke is quieter than before when we return from lunch. The others don’t seem to notice, but I catch the stern look on his face while he tracks the rhythm guitars. To anyone else, it would look like concentration, but the guy can do this shit in his sleep.
He’s concentrating alright, but not on what he’s playing. It’s the vocal booth beside him that’s haunting his brain.
Mine too.
My fears are confirmed when he doesn’t even wait to listen back after his final take on guitar. He mumbles something about trusting us to choose the comps and takes off “to piss.”
While the others turn their attention to setup for Sweeny, I follow Luke. I’m glad I did when I see him take a hard right instead of left toward the bathrooms.
He hangs another right, and my stomach sinks.
There’s only one thing back there.
As if on cue, I hear the crash of the fire door to the stairwell.
Picking up my pace, I round the corner and spot his silhouette through the window.
Luke jumps when I push through the reinforced steel to join him. He fires a brief look at me, and I secure us inside the makeshift vault.
Resting one hand on the railing, he runs the other over his face.
He’s angled too far for me to see his expression, but I don’t have to. I feel it in the air. The self-doubt, the pain. The fear.
“I don’t think I can do this, Case,” he says quietly without moving.
His hard stare remains locked on something I can’t see. His knuckles turn white around the safety railing.
Forcing in a shaky breath, I shift nervously on my feet. The stale air in this tomb has become almost unbreathable.
“Do you remember the day we met?” I ask, breaking the long silence.
He turns a confused look on me, and I meet his gaze.
“Of course. I’d been sitting by myself at lunch for a week when you invited me to join you. ”
I shake my head. “No. That was the first time we spoke. We met two days before when you told Riker McNalley to fuck off and stop being an asshole when he grabbed my backpack and took off with it.”
He tilts his head, squinting at me. “I don’t remember you, just that girl with the curly hair.”