We walked a mile over-past the tattoo parlor and the end of the strip and onto the back half of the way where the cars were allowed to drive. We crossed the street and walked past some beautiful mansions with wrought-iron fences and of course, those glorious Spanish Mosses. We came up to a house, that was more tall then it was wide, with a tan exterior and a small porch with a light glowing. The whole trip, we remained relatively silent; just me observing him, and him still being lost in his thoughts.
Upon entering the house, I smelled faint cleaning supplies and, what I suppose to be, his cologne lingering in the air. It was dark, with only shadows to help guide where things were. He walked straight, past some stairs, into his kitchen. He disappeared out of the doorway into another room, and left me standing in that doorway. He stood by a door, I saw was the back door, then turned on the light. We were in a living room basically, but instead of a TV in front of the couch, there was an instrument. I saw the stands, the stool and the cymbals. On the bass box was a black upside down house. Just this single, upside down house.
My breath caught in my throat.
I looked over at The Man, and finally put the pieces together. He looked at me and weakly smiled.
It was Bryan Sammis.
"Why'd you bring me here?" I asked while circling his drum set.
I saw him shrug. "I don't know really. I was just, I don't know."
I stared at the logo, still moved by it.
"You spoke about 'Afraid' being your favorite song," he said, slowly stepping forward. Indeed we had spoke about it on our way here, but it was one of the only things. "I may can't play everyone's instruments, but I can do my part. Would you like me to play for you?"
My heart was beating so hard. "Please?"
It was all it took.
~••••~
I was sitting on the couch while Bryan sat at his drum set. I looked at him, and waited and watched. He gave me a glance, then sighed and nodded.
It was pure heaven. Even if it was just the drumbeat, I still heard every.single.note that all the other instruments played. Zach's guitar, and Jeremy's; Mikey's bass; Jesse's voice. Though I've never been to one of their concerts, nor have I ever seen them in person, I imagined seeing the fog in the room, the moving figures, the shadow of the mics and guitars. I saw Jesse's long figure leaning and curving into his microphone like he does in his way, speaking the words he so lusciously wrote down. Mikey was off somewhere behind him, rocking loosely to his baseline; Zach was there, looking pouty over his Jazzmaster, and Jeremy was just plucking smoothly. Behind them all was Bryan, doing his job, playing his notes for the band. Each cymbal hit, every other drum line coursed; I looked at him and saw the look in his eyes, the full on excitement twinkle in his irises, no matter how dimly lit he had it. As we progressed through the song, I knew he was going back. To the crowds, to the fog and the smoke...to the days where it was just them five against the world, making music. He was seeing them just as I was. He was remembering them in a way I couldn't, and he was doing it right in front of me.
I got up and approached him as he still played. There were tears in my eyes. I reached out while he tapped the bass box in the bridge portion of the song toward the end, and let my hand hover over it. The vibrations were so immense, so deep on my heart. I then felt his hand as he pressed mine to the bass, and let me feel the pounding. A single tear fell down my cheek when I closed my eyes.
He let my hand go to finish playing. My heart was beating in time to the music. I felt so overpowered, so free and so indescribable. I could only imagine how Bryan felt. When all was said and done, he reached out and placed his hand at my jaw. I stared into his beautiful eyes, his hurt eyes. His renewed eyes. I had done something for him that hadn't been done for a long time.
"Stay with me?"
