𝔯𝔬𝔠𝔨𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔰 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔦𝔢 [𝔥𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔶𝔩𝔳𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯]

ℑ 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔡, ℑ'𝔪 𝔰𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔶

★★★

ℑ sat at my desk, hunched over my binder of sheet music. I skimmed over Machinery of Torment over and over. I was waiting for a phone call, from either Hunter or Kevin, telling me that it was time to practice. I would let them down easily, as easily as I could.

I glanced up at the Battle of the Bands poster that Kevin snagged for me. It was in just a few weeks. It was now or never. Truth is, I didn't really know how to tell them. I just knew I wanted to.

My phone began to ring. Hunter's face popped up on the screen; I smiled, swiping the answer button.

"Hey," I said. I was still in mild disbelief that we were... together. It felt odd; new. 

"Y/n, we're getting ready to practice. Do you need a ride?" He asked me. I looked outside to see if my mom was back from shopping yet. She wasn't, and my dad was at work. No dice.

"Yeah, sorry. My mom isn't back yet," I told him. I heard him say something to Kevin, his voice muffled. I waited.

"That's okay. I'll see you soon," he stated. I said thank you and hung up, gathering my things. I laid my guitar in its case and tucked the sheet music in the pocket. I texted my mom to let her know I was going to Hunters. She told me that she'd see me later.

It was chilly outside, the sky was covered in clouds. I sat on my front porch steps, staring down at the sidewalk. A few cars passed, none of them his. The mail truck passed. We didn't get anything.

Finally, his car pulled into the driveway. I began to gather my things, just my phone and guitar case. He opened the back door for me to set my case down, and the passenger side door for me to get in. I smiled warmly at him.

"Thanks," I said, buckling in. He flicked on the radio and began to back out of the driveway.

"Kevin's at the house waiting for us," he informed me. I nodded, staring out the window. It was more or less gloomy outside. Cloudy. Boring.

We pulled into his drive and stepped out of the car. His dad was outside, watering the plants. Any encounter I had with Dr. Sylvester was an awkward, not very enjoyable one. We exchanged a quick wave and that was that. Hunter led me inside.

"Hey, Y/n," Kevin said. He was perched behind his drum set. I'd gone over to his apartment not too long ago to drop something off, and I was surprised to see that it took up the whole room. He could barely get around to his bed. His mom (and the neighbors) weren't too happy about the noise.

"What's up," I replied, setting the case down on the couch. I clicked it open, grabbing the guitar. Hunter handed me an amp plug.

"Alright, I've been working on this. I edited my riff just a little. I think these chords sound better together," Hunter briefed, picking up his guitar. Kevin and I listened closely for the change in sound. I thought it sounded better, too. Hunter finished that part and flipped his hair out of his face. He caught me staring.

"Sounds really good," I said, nodding to emphasize my point. He grinned. Kevin made a few remarks, all good. I put my guitar strap over my shoulder and stood up, standing near Hunter. I plugged my guitar in and made sure it was in tune.

Kevin started us out. I raised my eyebrows. He had come a long way since the last time I heard him play. I was honestly pretty proud. Not many people could learn an instrument and be that good in that short of an amount of time. I tapped my foot to the beat. Hunter began to play a quiet solo. I watched his fingers pass over the strings. In three beats, I would join. Reluctantly.

We played our song. If I was going to be completely honest, it was impressive. But I wasn't enjoying myself. I wanted to see Hunter up on a stage, playing greatly. My lifelong dream fizzled. I got so caught up in my thoughts that I began to play wrong. Hunter cut the music.

"Y/n? What happened?" He asked loudly. I shrugged.

"Sorry. I still get a little confused at that part," I replied. I tried to keep my voice smooth. He only shook his head, beginning to play again. We picked up where we left off. I tried my best.

The song ended. Kevin stood up unhurriedly, pushing his stool behind him. His phone was in his hand. He looked at each of us.

"Sorry, guys. My mom texted. She needs me to go pick up my brother," he informed us. Hunter and I set our guitars down. All three of us did the handshake, and Kevin was on his way. We watched him go up the stairs.

Hunter picked up his guitar once more. I didn't. Instead, I sat down on the couch and fixed my stare on one poster, trying to come up with a way to tell him I wanted to go. It wouldn't be easy, that was for sure. I was startled when he sat down next to me, slinging his guitar off and leaning it against the armrest.

"Are you okay?" He asked. I shrugged, looking up at him. He leaned down and gave me a light peck on the lips. I knew this would frustrate him.

"Hunter, I don't think I want to be in a band with you."

He stiffened. That empty look overtook his face. He began to fidget with his rings again, twisting them around his fingers. I closed my eyes as his expression grew sad.

"What..?"

"I... I like you. I really do. But I don't want to play with you. I want to be cheering you on."

A long pause. An eighty-seven measure rest, if you will. That's exactly what it felt like. I tapped my fingers on my knees.

"I understand."

That wasn't at all the reaction I was expecting. I expected an infuriated Hunter. I expected him to be frustrated and upset with me, and tell me that there was no way he'd find another bass player in time. But he understood.

"You know, maybe you should just give Emily a chance. I know you think that a cello player in a metal band is so... outlandish, but she's an incredible player."

He shook his head. I stood up, collecting my things. I did so as calmly as I could. I glanced at him once or twice. The look on his face told me he didn't really understand. He was only saying that. He looked upset and frustrated, just like I thought he would be.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Hunter."

★★★