Graffiti Casanova

Family

I ducked into the car, slammed the door, and Brett took off. I breathed a prayer of thanks that he'd always been a bit of a wild driver.

My seatbelt clicked and I leaned back, trying to calm my beating heart.

"What'd you do?"

"What?" I looked at him. "Oh. Nothing. I... I've sort of been helping Casanova and they found out."

The car swerved to the left, and I grimaced as Brett nearly overcompensated straightening out. "THE Casanova?"

"THE Casanova is long dead. He's just taken up the mantle."

Brett sputtered. "What do you mean you didn't do anything? That's all kinds of illegal!"

I glared at him. "I have done absolutely nothing illegal. I don't even know his identity."

"How'd they find out?"

"Not sure... but I have an idea." I glared out the window, thinking of snide front-desk lady.

Brett shook his head. "That's a crazy story. So you're off the hook, then? Are they gonna find him?"

"No." I said, sounding confident. But I couldn't be sure. "I hope not."

We neared the V-Bar, and I unlatched my seatbelt. But when Brett screeched to a stop in front of the door, nearly throwing me through the windshield, I wished I hadn't.

"You're welcome to stay," I said as I threw open the door and jumped out. I looked back at him for a moment. "Brett... we wish you were with us tonight." And it was true.

Brett looked as if he might cry or break into a smile, I couldn't tell which. But the moment passed and he waved a hand. "Go," he said. "The guys would hate you forever if you could've made it on time and didn't."

I smiled and ran, yanking the door of the V-Bar open and pushing my way inside. I blinked in the dim lighting to see my boys already onstage. I practically sprinted through the room and dove for the stage, and Jared's face made all of it worth it. Almost.

"Where were you?" He hissed, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me like a rag doll. He pulled me to his chest in a crushing hug. "It doesn't matter, you're here and LET'S DO THIS." He shoved me towards my mic and guitar, and I strapped it on as quick as I could.

"Glad you could make it." Davey grinned at me from the drumset. Classic calm, understated Davey. I laughed, my fried nerves making me a little hysterical.

"It sounded fun," I said with a shrug, plucking my strings to check the tuning. Perfect. I turned to face the crowd and felt the familiar thrill in the pit of my stomach. There, stage-right, just where I always imagined him, was Dad. Lana and Bennie waved from beside him, and Mark was next to her, scowling. I grinned. That girl knew how to get what she wanted.

The label rep was in the back with Miss Legs again, nearly obscured from my view because of the bright lights shining into my eyes. Otto grinned at me from the bar, and Ian waved from the sound booth. Then, in the very back of the room, the door opened and a smile tugged at my lips at the form in the doorway. Brett had stayed.

"Ready?" Davey's soft voice came from behind me. I bobbed my head. I was absolutely ready. And we began.

We started with our newest song, an upbeat crowdpleaser. Dad beamed at me the whole time, and I could've sworn I saw tears in his eyes. Space Lovers was next, and my heart squeezed when I heard people singing along. Another few new songs, played flawlessly, and then we were on to Roses Red. The room was silent as I sang the words about my baby brother, but they didn't rub me raw as before. A quiet ache pulsed in my heart for my Sam, but I made it through. Dad and I shared a special smile after that one. And then we were ready to close it out.