CHAPTER 4
Any Minute Now
— Sadie —
We left Logan with my mom for the evening so Andrew could come see us play. Chris would be there too. I finished vocal warm ups in the car and carefully eyed the door to the gallery. There were groups of twenty-somethings scattered around outside smoking cigarettes. They were all so pretty, thin and put together. It was time to pass them all with a guitar on my back. My guitar would be a magnifying glass. And I would be the ant. I took a shaky breath in and got out of the car. Andrew grabbed my amp and pedalboard out of the trunk. From the back seat, I grabbed my guitar and swung it over my shoulder. Hand in hand, we made our way to the door. I kept my eyes down as we passed the beautiful people and went inside. Even more people mingled throughout the first floor of the art gallery. I tightly clutched Andrew’s fingers. “Whoa, there,” he said.
“I’m nervous!” I snapped. God. I glanced up at the loft and saw dozens of other faces. No one I recognized. My stomach dropped. My fingers in-between Andrew’s ached. Finally, a familiar face approached us. I dropped Andrew’s hand and threw my arms around him. “Chris!”
He embraced me tightly, kissed me on the cheek then gave Andrew a hug. Chris had been my best friend since middle school. I couldn’t imagine going through a big moment like this without him. He looked around the room. “What a turnout.”
“I know,” I said quietly. There was a pit in my stomach.
Chris looked at me pointedly. “You’ll be fine, darling.”
“It’s okay, Sadie,” Andrew said. “Just picture everyone naked while you’re up there.”
I rolled my eyes.
“So where’s the band?” Chris asked. “I have yet to meet these gentlemen.”
I chuckled.
Andrew nudged him. “Chris needs to give his best friend seal of approval.”
“Damn right I do.”
“They’re not here yet.” I glanced down at my phone. “They should be.”
“Speak of the devil,” Andrew said.
Travis walked up with his bass strapped to his back, amp in hand. “What’s going on, y’all?” Travis was a giant. As a teen, he must have been a lanky thing. But by 26, I guessed he’d filled out and became scary buff on top of being freakishly tall. His black hair cascaded around his shoulders. His beard was full and bushy. Of course Andrew had called him Jesus upon introduction. A girl so tall she reached the bottom of Travis’s chin came up from behind him. Auburn hair, hazel eyes, lean body. She was beautiful and I was immediately more self conscious. “This is my girlfriend,” Travis said. “Leah.”
In spite of myself, I forced a smile.
Once we set up our equipment on the platform stage and checked in with the sound guy, we blended in with the rest of the crowd and waited. We were the opening band and as the minutes ticked on, my chest pounded more and more. I looked at the time and scanned the many faces. “Where’s Josh?” I asked. “Our set starts in twenty minutes.” No one had seen or heard from him. Where was he? I hadn’t expected him to be late to a show. After another ten minutes, I met eyes with Travis. “Have you called him?”
He shrugged. “It keeps going to voicemail.”
“I hope he’s okay.”
“Who was driving him?” Andrew asked.
“His cousin or uncle,” Travis said.
“It’s his birthday,” I added. “They were having dinner first.” Did they get into a car accident? I opened Facebook on my phone and checked his account. He hadn’t made a post in two days. Another thought came to me. “What do we do if he doesn’t show?”
Travis pressed his lips together.
“Do you need him?” Leah asked. I nodded. Josh was the backbone of Midnight Musings. We couldn’t play without him. “How long is it until your set?”
“Nine minutes.”
Chris spoke up. “He plays keyboard, don’t he?”
I looked at him. “Yeah, why?”
“Guy with a keyboard, 9 o’clock.”
I whipped my head to the side. “Oh, thank God!” My chest relaxed just a bit as Josh plowed through the room with his case. But then, my stomach dropped. His eyes—glassy and blank, seemed more haunted than usual. Something was clearly wrong. He dropped the keyboard on the stage and went back outside without a glance. He quickly came back in with his stand and bench. Finally, when he was done setting up, he looked over to us. That’s when I noticed the sway of his body, the laziness in his movements and his half closed eyes. Shit. Josh was drunk. Drunker than I’d ever seen him. Drunker than Sunday.
“What time is it?” he asked, leaving the platform. Alcohol filled the air as he walked up.
“It’s 7:58.”
“Got 2 minutes,” he mumbled, his eyes fixated on the door. “I’ll be back.”
“Wait, where are you going?!” I asked. “You can’t leave!”
“I’m going to the 7/11 down the block. I need a drink.”
Andrew laughed and placed his hand on Josh’s shoulder. “You’ve clearly had enough. I don’t think drinking more is a good idea.”
Josh shrugged him off. “Touch me again and I’ll kick your ass.”
Andrew’s mouth dropped.
“Don’t talk to him like that!” I said.
Josh scoffed and turned away, but Travis pulled him back. “Easy, buddy—we’ll get you a drink after, I got you. Right now, we gotta sit tight a spell.”
The sound guy came up to us. “Y’all have to do a sound check.”
Josh sighed. “I would have been back already if you guys just let me leave.”
Travis laughed. “No you wouldn’t have. Let’s go.”
As I followed them, I heard Chris mutter something and looked back. Leah stood off to the side. Chris was pissed. Andrew was over it. Thankfully, no one else in the room paid us any mind as I put on my guitar and waited for instructions. The sound guy didn’t seem impressed. Maybe it was the way Josh hung over his keyboard or the way he hesitated in confusion. “Alright,” the guy said. “Whenever you’re ready.” Josh began the first song. As I waited for the second measure so I could jump in, I looked to Travis. He gave me a nod. At least Josh was able to play. We both came in and the song sounded just as lovely as it normally did.
CHAPTER 5
Shit Show
— Sadie —
My relief faded within seconds. What a nightmare. Travis was laughing it off. And Josh, well, he was too drunk to give a damn. I stood at the microphone like a fool. Why even bother to try and say the banter I had carefully practiced all week? Everything I planned scattered around me like leaves from a tree. The night was ruined. After the first verse, we were supposed to play the chorus. Duh! Instead, Josh played the bridge—of an entirely different song. A few measures in, he fumbled, stopped, then played something I’d never heard before. After a deadly slow, horrifying minute, he finally got back on track and finished the first song. When it was all over, I placed my face in my palm as the room gave us a scattered, polite applause. I clutched the fretboard of my guitar and looked at Andrew and Chris. Their faces were the only faces I was brave enough to meet, and they both looked like they’d just seen a terrible car crash. I shook my head and sighed. This was the most embarrassing moment of my life.
We waited awkwardly for Josh to remember how the second song went. Minutes passed. It was unbearable. People in the room spoke among themselves. I heard laughter and snuck a peek. A group of four eyed Josh and shook their heads. He fiddled with the keys, seemed to drift to sleep for a second then finally played the fourth song on our set list. Whatever. I sighed and came in late. Travis played his parts without a hitch. We only got halfway through the song until Josh stopped again. I looked back just as he leaned forward in a drunken stupor. My eyes shot open as the keyboard dipped to the front. In slow motion, it fell off the stand and landed with a bang. Josh nearly fell along with it. He caught himself just in time. He looked down at the keyboard as though he’d meant to do that. “That’s it! Y’all are done,” the sound guy said angrily into his microphone.
My face was on fire. My body floated away. I promptly turned off the amp, unplugged my guitar and pulled it over my head. I shot Andrew a look that I hoped screamed HELP! Thankfully, he took the hint. He strolled over and grabbed my amp and cable off the stage. Chris walked up with my case. He put my guitar away for me as I packed up my pedalboard. Behind me, Josh struggled to pick up and put away his keyboard. He swayed, he stumbled. I couldn’t believe he had done this—to us, to himself. I sighed in annoyance when I saw Andrew had put down my amp in order to help Josh get the keyboard into its case. Andrew was too nice. Andrew was too forgiving. As we walked out towards the door, I kept my gaze down but I felt it: other people’s eyes, watching us. Like daggers. Like fish in a bowl. The host rushed up to us just as we reached the door. “You better never ask me to book your band again,” she said. “That was so unprofessional!”
“Fuck you,” Josh slurred from behind me.
My mouth dropped as I glanced back. Who was this guy?
“We’re really sorry about that,” Travis said. “We appreciate the opportunity.”
She wrinkled her nose and walked away.
“We are not driving him,” I said, once we were outside and our gear was packed away. “We have to drop off Chris, then get back to Logan.” Andrew opened his mouth to say something. I shot him a look and he quickly closed it. There was an awkward, tense pause. Chris glared at Josh, who stood to the side with his case at his feet. He would not get the best friend stamp of approval that night. He never would.
“I guess I’ll take him,” Travis said with a sigh.
Leah didn’t seem keen on the idea.
“Just fucking leave me here,” Josh said. “Everybody else does.”
“Get in the car, bro.” Travis grabbed Josh’s case and bench. He looked to Leah and gestured towards the stand.
She reluctantly picked it up.
I met Josh’s eyes. “Thanks a lot.”
He didn’t flinch. He didn’t sigh. He didn’t apologize. He just turned and walked away.
I woke up at 5 AM and couldn’t fall back asleep. I laid under the sea of fairy lights over our bed. Andrew’s snoring was rhythmic and familiar—a lullaby that wasn’t working as it normally did. Logan was curled beside me. I was sandwiched between them. Our mattress was on the box spring on the floor to prevent Logan from getting hurt in case he rolled off the bed. I carefully pushed the hair from his forehead and kissed his soft head before placing my arm around his tiny body. His lips made a sucking motion in his sleep. If I hadn’t had a nagging sensation in my gut and a lack of ways to cope with it, I may have relished the moment and focused on the sweetness of my toddler. The way his tiny fingers twitched. His long brown eyelashes and round chipmunk cheeks. The way he resembled both Andrew (dark hair) and myself (button nose). I may have remembered he would only be this small just once. I may have taken a more clear mental picture and fallen back to sleep. Instead, I found myself thinking of him. Before I could stop myself, I reached for my phone.
At first glance, Josh’s Facebook posts since the show were unhinged. I wasn’t sure if he was still drunk when he posted them but he clearly wasn’t able to sleep. His last post had been published only minutes before. Despite my anger, I found myself relating with him. Other people didn’t do things like this. Other people didn’t have public mental breakdowns. I always felt different. Completely alone in the world. And here was Josh, acting like a shit show. Acting like me.
JOSH: Life’s a cruel pointless joke!
JOSH: No one cares why should I? Lmaooo #dead
JOSH: going going gone!!!!
JOSH: You know what they say…life sucks, then you die!!
JOSH: With every passing moment, it just keeps getting worse. The walls are getting smaller. I am six feet beneath the earth.
I recognized those lyrics. It was a song by Senses Fail. I was no stranger to posting cryptic lyrics when my emotions got the best of me—and they often did. But why those lines? Was he insinuating what I thought he was insinuating? I kept scrolling.
JOSH: tired of this shit what’s the fucking point?!
JOSH: DONE
JOSH: its been nice knowing you guys or Y’ALL as you country folk like to say #idontbelong
JOSH: period
JOSH: end of story!!!
JOSH: Game over
The last of the status updates were more telling. He must have been awake so I sent him a text to check in. Only the night before, I had convinced myself I was done with him. There was no way I wanted to continue writing music together. But now I was worried for him. There was a part of me that wanted to drive to his place to see if he was alright. But that would be weird—wouldn’t it? Should I call the police to do a wellness check? What if he didn’t mean what I thought he had meant? Was I overreacting? I didn’t know what to do. But he was clearly having a mental health crisis of some kind. I knew all about those.
I watched my husband sleep soundly across the queen sized mattress. Why did I still feel so empty, despite having close to everything I ever wanted? We were looking at houses on Saturday. It was only a matter of time before we moved out of my mother’s—a house I couldn’t wait to move back into just six months before. The guilt of my emptiness and instability ate me up. Shouldn’t a wife and mother be happy and fulfilled? Andrew and Logan deserved so much more from me.
I finally put my phone on the floor, accepting that Josh may have fallen back asleep. He lived with his cousin and his cousin’s girlfriend. Surely they’d be there if anything serious was happening. My anger was gone but he was still not my responsibility. I shouldn’t overstep. I’d done what I could. The people I had to remain loyal to were sleeping next to me: my husband and my son.
