Sweat dripped into Aaron’s eyes, making them sting, but he
didn’t need to see the notes he’d made. They’d gone from the intro into a
respectable melody they could build off of, and now Kelly had several lines of lyrics
for them to tweak. Closing his eyes, he slipped into a mellow zone of long
rifts and desperate, pleading chords.
A second guitar answered his, and his lips curved into a
small smile as he got lost in the harmony, the two going back and forth like
their instruments were having a conversation. Sound rose and fell in waves, echoed,
amplifying the attitude both infused into their playing. The inflection on
certain notes was like an expletive spat at an advancing opponent. A challenge
answered with intensity and hate.
“Shit, Ethan, that riff is fuckin’ fire,” Aaron declared as
the last note faded away. His fingers were sore, and his shoulders ached when
he reached out to fist bump Ethan, only to realize it wasn’t Ethan he was
playing with.
A mix of embarrassment and disappointment washed over him as
he let his hand to rest back on his guitar. “Sorry.”
“No harm done,” Micah replied, his soft accent driving home
the fact that he wasn’t Ethan.
Bitterness and disappointment churned like bile in the pit
of Aaron stomach, and he felt a momentary pang of shame at having fallen so into
rhythm with a stranger that way. Instead of responding, he simply nodded Micah’s
way, grateful that there was nothing more to say, as he wasn’t sure if he could
manage it. Now when he felt like he was betraying the memory of everything
they’d ever been. Nothing about that sat right with him.
“Maybe it’s time for a break,” Kelly muttered, with his head
still bent over the paper he was scribbling on. “It might give me a chance to
organize some of this into something legible rather than a bunch of sentences
with arrows pointing in the general direction of where they should be.”
Aaron couldn’t see his face, but from the tone of his voice
and how focused he was on the notepad in front of him, Aaron doubted he was
experiencing the same turmoil Aaron was. Of course, he’d had two weeks’ worth
of practice sessions to get over whatever feelings he might have been wrestling
with, while Aaron was getting hit with everything all at once, which was
playing havoc with his emotions now that the song was over. Best to get a
handle on them before he was forced into an interaction that didn’t involve the
way his fingers moved over the strings.
“Can I borrow your balcony,” Aaron asked as he set his
guitar on its stand. Getting up was a different story, he staggered, then
arched his back, feeling the vertebrae crackle and pop all the way down his
spine.
“No, it needs to stay right where it is, but you can go use
it to smoke up, since I know that’s what you plan to do.”
“Hardy, har, har.” Aaron grumbled, but he couldn’t help but smile, ‘cause he’d known that was the response he’d get when he phrased his question that way.
He was halfway to the balcony doors when he realized he was
being followed. A glance over his shoulder revealed shoulder length blond hair,
bright, brilliantly blue eyes, and, most impressive of all, a full throat
tattoo in vivid colors. What the hell was that?
The smack of slamming into the balcony door stopped him short
and yanked his attention away from the tattoo and his curiosity over why Micah
would be following him in the first place.
“You’re supposed to open it with your hand, not your face,”
Celeb deadpanned.
Despite the fact that his cheek stung from his collision
with the glass, Aaron chuckled, then opened the door properly and stepped out
into the waning day. Streaks of color marred the deepening blue of the sky, the
white of the clouds highlighted in brilliant orange and yellow. Aaron never
took his eyes off it as he slipped a case from his back pocket and produced one
of the blunts he’d rolled earlier in the day. He heard Micah fiddling with a
cellophane wrapper, the scratch of a lighter proceeding the stench of cigarette
smoke.
“Those things ‘ll kill ya,” Aaron muttered, as much to
himself as to Micah.
“Meh. I’m already on borrowed time. A couple puffs won’t
make a whit of difference one way or the other.”
“Whatever. It’s your lungs.”
“That’s right.”
“Forget I mentioned it.”
“Already forgotten.”
They smoked in silence, occasionally the targets of a nearby
crow’s taunts. It was perched on the far railing of the balcony, hopping left
then shuffling right in an interesting little dance. Aaron watched it through
the curl of smoke around his head, the ache in his shoulders lessoning with
every puff. There was something about its eyes, piercing, like it was staring
into Aaron’s soul. He shivered, wondering what it saw there, and if it was
something ugly.
Caw caw, shuffle hop, caw some more, like it was performing
for him. It reminded him of the day when the band was new, and a good
performance meant something besides Raman and peanut butter for dinner that
night.
A sudden breeze blew his hair into his eyes, and when he
brushed it back, the buckle on his bracelet caught the dragon earring in his
right ear, giving it a little tug. Joint held between his lips, he untangled it
and slipped the earring out of his ear. A shiny silver circle in its belly held
a stone that was supposed to represent the moon. When a light beam struck the
stone, making it shimmer, he was reminded that crows loved shiny things.
Maybe it was the peacefulness of the night, or just unsuppressed
curiosity, but instead of putting the earing back in his ear, he inched closer
to the crow, took a drag, and inched some more. He didn’t want to get close
enough to startle it into flying away, just close enough to hang the earring
from the wrought iron bars before backing off to see what it would do.
He finished that first blunt waiting for the bird to make up
its mind. So far, all it did was eye the shimmering piece of metal like it was
a trap. No worries. A lyrics break meant Kelly would be at it for a while, and
Aaron had rolled four before coming up, so, he popped another out of the case,
even though he was good and stoned, lit it and leaned against the railing,
staring at the crow.
When the melty feeling hit, everything narrowed down to the
sunset on those iridescent wings, and the way the crow’s curiosity had moved it
closer and closer to that dangling dragon and moonstone earring. It still took
several more minutes before the crow grew brave, snatched up the earring, and
flew away. Aaron watched it until it disappeared into the sunset.
“He’ll remember that, ya know,” Micah said, startling Aaron,
‘cause he’d forgotten Micah was there. “He might even come back hoping for
another gift.”
“Guess I’ll have to carry something shiny in my pockets from
now on.”
“Might be a good idea, unless you want to give away a small
fortune in jewelry.”
Snorting, Aaron shook his head. “I’d be surprised if I paid
more than ten bucks at a goth store jewelry sale to get that thing. That crow
will probably cherish it more than I ever did.”
“So, was it the monumental disaster you expected it to be?”
“Huh?” Aaron muttered, turning to face him for the first
time since they’d come out there.
“Just wondering if having me as part of the band is as
horrible as you expected.”
“It’s only the first day. Jury is still out on that.”
“Well, do me a favor, don’t hold your breath waiting for me
to get preachy. Your buddy, Kelly, he seems to really like you, and I’d hate to
have to explain how you asphyxiated trying to prove a point to him.”
It was so out of left field and caught him so off guard,
that Aaron choked on the smoke he’d just inhaled, and coughed until his throat
hurt. His eyes watered, but when he wiped away the moisture, Aaron noticed
something he hadn’t before. That throat tattoo of Micah’s was a brightly
colored coral reef with a wide assortment of the oddest-looking fish Aaron had
ever seen. He couldn’t help but stare, especially at the brown and white fish
with the thin tendrils of spiny fins, and a spooky looking fish with some kind
of dangly piece hanging off the top of its head.
“You can stop staring any time now,” Micah muttered, backing
away.
The cherry on his cigarette glowed as he took a drag, and
while he hated the scent of cigarette smoke, Aaron closed the distance between
them so he could stare at the fish with all the spines sticking out of its
body, inches away from a stone with a fish face nestled between a sea anemone
and a fish with bright blue stripes.
“Seriously. Stop staring at me,” Micah grumbled, turning a
little.
That just revealed another bit of the tattoo, the bright
colors rendering Aaron unable to look away. “I’m not staring at you.”
“We’ll I know you’re not staring through me, so what the
fuck?”
“Was checking out all the freaky ass fish you’ve got
tattooed across your throat. I’ve never seen anything like them,” Aaron
explained. “Something tells me they’re not the kind of shit people put in an in-home
aquarium.”
“You’d be surprised. Some folks enjoy living dangerously,
and these are some of the deadliest fish in the world.”
That just made them even more interesting as far as Aaron
was concerned. “I always thought sharks were the scariest things in the ocean.”
“Really? You must not visit aquariums much.”
Scowling, Aaron tried to recall if he’d ever been to one. A
fleeting image of a tall tank making up the bulk of one wall flashed through
his head, along with the echo of a teacher’s voice, telling partners to stick
together.
“Not since I was a kid. We went to a field trip to one,”
Aaron admitted. “But I don’t remember seeing anything like those. I can’t get
over all the details. I never knew fish could be so beautiful.”
“That’s too bad. You’re missing out on some incredible shit.
Last time I visited one, I got to watch a sea horse give birth. They have like,
two thousand babies at a time, it’s insane, especially when it’s the male that
has them,” Micah explained, his excitement level second only to how exuberant
Dani got when she was telling him about something she’d seen outside. “Less
than six feet away this big old octopus had its tentacles spread out all along
the glass and it was creepy as hell, especially when it opened its eyes and
stared at me.”
“Umm, okay,” Aaron muttered, turning his attention to the
city down below and the bright lights that had begun to highlight the streets,
when he couldn’t muster up a response to that.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Huh?”
“You’re either the most socially inept person I have ever
met in my life, or you’re going out of your way to get a rise out of me.”
“How about none of the above,” Aaron shot back, finally
tearing his gaze away from all that ink. “I was seriously just admiring your ink.”
“Thanks. I guess.”
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