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!”
