Graffiti Casanova

Roses Red

The evening had begun and the bar started to fill. It was a classier joint, lots of candles creating a low but elegant glow and illuminating a dark, rich color scheme of reds and mahogany. Otto had done well with the place in the short time he'd owned it. It was popular, lots of professionals stopping in after work, and tonight Otto was kept busy. We remained in our spots at the bar, watching as Baldwin took the stage.

Jared chewed on his bottom lip and drummed his fingers on the countertop nervously. As soon as he saw Otto was free, he called him over.

"Is your friend here yet?" he asked. Otto's eyes skimmed the room.

"In the back corner, she's the blonde in the red. Her date is your man."

"Dude. You have hot friends," Jared said.

"Why do I get the feeling that 'friends' isn't exactly the most accurate term?" I arched a brow when I spotted the leggy blonde.

Otto put a finger to his lips to shush me. "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, Claire," he said with a wink as he slipped off to help another customer.

Baldwin's soft music was filling the room and people were stopping to listen-- it was worth listening to. Jared kept twisting around in his seat to watch for the label rep's reactions, but I didn't even glance to see which one he was. It didn't matter. I was here because I told Dad I wouldn't give up.

Soon Baldwin's set was done and we were up. Jared had been fidgety all evening, but as soon as we stepped on stage, he immediately loosened and relaxed. The stage was his domain and he knew it. Davey was his usual even-keel self as he settled at his drums; nothing ever fazed him. But a foreign feeling creeped into the pit of my stomach as I picked up my guitar and slipped the strap over my head.

For the first time since I could remember, I was nervous.

It didn't make sense. I'd been on stages all my life-- I was raised onstage, Dad loved to say. But something tonight was different, and I had to take a deep breath to steady my fingers as Davey counted us off. I looked out to the audience and spotted Bennie smiling at me. I gave her a small smile back-- I didn't expect her to come. And then we were playing.

Once we started, my fear began to dissipate. It wasn't perfect-- it had been a long time, but we were remembering how to play alongside each other, one after another, each song with a different clench on my heart. A different memory, a different meaning. My fingers remembered what to do, and I let myself get lost in the music.

I'd almost convinced myself that this was a good thing-- that I was actually enjoying myself. That we were creating magic again.

But just before we were going to start Steady Hands, our last song, the magic was shattered by Jared's words into the mic.

"We're gonna do something different tonight-- how do y'all feel about hearing a song that no one's ever heard before?"

I cut a glance to Davey, who caught the worry in my eyes and shrugged. He had no idea what was going on either.

"Alright, well this is the first time we've ever performed this next song, and we're gonna have Claire sing it for us. It's called Roses Red." Jared turned to look at me, giving me a smile as my mind tried to catch up with what he had just said. But he was already playing the intro on his acoustic bass by the time his words had registered in my mind.

I knew the song. That wasn't the problem. I'd never forget it; it was the best song we had ever written together. But it was the one I'd made them promise we'd never perform. I stood there, my feet rooted to the ground, listening to the intro that chilled me to the bone. It wasn't fair of him to do this to me, not at all-- he knew he had me backed into a corner.

But I wasn't going to walk this time. I wouldn't break my promise to Dad twice in two days.

So I lifted my guitar and began to play along, stepped up to the mic, and opened my mouth to sing about my baby brother's death.

It was raw. Really raw. It was something most people didn't know about, something that I didn't talk about much. But I had opened up to the guys and they'd encouraged me to write about it. I did-- under the condition that no one else would ever hear it.

People were hearing it.

My eyes were squeezed shut; there was no way I could do this if I opened them. In my mind, I transformed the dark bar into an empty room, pitch black and silent. My voice was husky from emotion and because I hadn't warmed up. But I sang like I was singing to Sam. And when Davey joined in on the kick and tambourine, something in me broke. Maybe my heart. Maybe the wall I had built around his memories. Probably both.

It was like a flooding release of all the things I wished I could've said to Sam, and I pictured him, frozen at twelve, standing at the edge of the stage, watching me. It was exactly the closure I needed.

The last notes resounded in the room that felt empty-- I swore it was silent. But as soon as I opened my eyes, the spell broke. It wasn't silent, it wasn't empty. Things were normal. People were talking and laughing. And Sam was dead.

I stepped back from the mic, set my guitar on the stand, and walked off stage.

Chapter song is Above The Clouds Of Pompeii by Bear's Den.