Inspire (The Muse #1)(67)
Author: Cora Carmack

“I don’t know how to win this war I’m losing. Swinging at air, babe, but I come back bruising.”

He’s right. It sounds more like a pissed off rock anthem when he sings it.

“I don’t know.”

He holds up his hands. “No pressure. I just thought if the place doesn’t get too busy, we might have some freedom to play a little bit. And it wouldn’t hurt you to get a little angry.”

I could admit to myself that I’m afraid to let it get that far. If I dive into the anger, I’m not sure I’ll be able to break the surface again.

“I don’t know,” I say again.

“Well, if you want to try it, I think I can follow you.”

Ten minutes later, we make our way up to the stage that’s been set up in a corner upstairs. There are maybe a dozen people here, probably a few more downstairs that will hopefully come up when we start to play.

“Just like old days,” Owen says as he picks up his bass guitar.

“What?” Rook asks.

“Playing to an empty room.”

“It’s not empty,” Bridget cuts in. “There’s a cute bartender at the back.”

Rook laughs. “Great. We get to play for the guy who gets paid to be here.”

“We’re getting paid too,” she points out.

“Not if we don’t start playing soon,” I say.

I don’t bother with introductions, not to a practically non-existent crowd, most of whom are standing or sitting in small groups, talking or drinking or eating. I look down at the set list. Rook has us starting right off the bat with a fast song. I decide we probably need to ease people into it. So, I pick a different song to start.

“Let’s start with number twelve,” I say. It’s a less well-known song by a Swedish singer. Still upbeat, but people will be able to keep talking over us if they want.

We jump into the music, and I block out the empty spaces in the room. I just let myself enjoy the feel of a guitar in my hands, the pressure of the strings against my callused fingers, the smooth pick in my hand. For a little while, I put off my issues and worries. I shed them like dirty clothes, and put on a different costume for the night. I let myself pretend that I’m the old Wilder, the one before Dad went to prison and I came back home. The Wilder before Kalli.

It feels like a different life. A simpler one. A little two-dimensional, like I’d been living a flat life and didn’t even realize it. But flat feels good now. It’s easy. I let someone else’s lyrics fill up the empty space, and for a while it’s almost like being whole again.

Eventually, I notice that the crowd has grown. People are filling the floor in front of us, some even dancing. So, I skip to a few songs on the list with a better beat, and I watch the people move in front of me. There are probably people out there who’ve been through this same thing. And they’ve gotten past it. They’re dancing again. It’s not like a broken heart is a new invention.

Feeling reckless, I look back at Rook between songs, and say, “Let’s do the new one.”

He smiles. “Hell yeah.”

He motions Bridget and Owen closer to explain, while I talk to the crowd.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?”

A cheer goes up in response.

“Thanks for coming out. I see a couple familiar faces out there. We appreciate it. We’ve mostly got covers for you tonight with a few of our songs sprinkled in between. But there’s this new one I just wrote, and it’s probably a really dumb idea to do this without any practice, but well … I’ve done stupider things.” I glance back at Rook and the others, and they give me a thumbs up. Rook and Owen have switched places, and they smile when I raise my eyebrows. Hopefully we can pull this off. “So, this song is called, well, damn … I don’t even know what it’s called. Probably Just So Know You. Or something. I’ll let you guys decide.”

I start off with my guitar, playing the old song that Rook mentioned. It takes me a second to get into it, but then muscle memory kicks in and the music comes back to me. Rook joins in on bass, and he grins at me, and I know we’re both thinking of that truly terrible song we wrote back in high school. Owen keeps up a basic rhythm behind me.

“Here goes nothing,” I say to the crowd.

It’s always push and pull with you, push and pull

And it’s hard, baby, not to feel like I’m the fool

I’m fighting battles in a war I don’t understand

I’m losing speed, honey, here’s where I crash land

I just want to know you, honey. Let me know you.

There’s not a thing I wouldn’t go through.

So far so good. I stick with the melody I remember, throwing in a few improvisations here and there. Rook really gets into the bass, and Owen throws in a flourish on the drums.

I shake myself. Scared I’ll break myself

But I can’t shake you. I don’t want to.

I’m caught up, turned around

Inside out, and upside down

Just to know you, honey. All to know you.

I’ll spin a little faster. Dive a little deeper.

Crash a little harder, anything to keep her

Her taste is my drug, and her lips are my dealer.

It’s coming easy now, so I let myself relax a bit and go with the flow. I look out at the audience, and they’re definitely with us. At the back of the room, right in my line of sight is girl who looks like Kalli, so much so that it knocks the words right out of my mouth, and I miss my cue. Even my fingers forget how to work for a moment. My eyes shoot to Rook, and he nods, sticking with me. We repeat a few chords, circling back around, and when I glance back at the crowd, the girl who caught my eye is gone.

She was probably never there to begin with.

I force myself to smile. “Sorry about that. Like I said this one is really new. I mentioned this was a stupid idea, right?”

A bunch of the crowd laughs, and a few cheer their encouragements, so after one last sweep of the room with my eyes, I jump back in.

I shake myself. Scared I’ll break myself

But I can’t shake you. I don’t want to.

I’m caught up, turned around

Inside out, and upside down

Just to know you, honey. Let me know you.

I don’t know how to win this war I’m losing

I’m swinging at air, babe, and come back bruising

I’m outnumbered in a fight against none

Planting my feet just to watch you run

I’m caught up, turned around

Inside out, and upside down