Ashes

Skye and I went until the sunrise because we were stupid.

At some point we got out of bed to eat breakfast and start the day. I had some texts from Scott and Kenny about wanting to meet up later. I never took my make-up off, so I looked like a Lost Boy on heroin.

In the kitchen, Skye’s parents tried their best to ignore me. We’d met at school events in the past, but this was the first time I’d been to their house—and I think we woke them up last night.

“So, Mom, Dad—this is my boyfriend, Wes. He’s in a band,” she said, like that explained everything.

“Thanks for breakfast, Mr. and Mrs. Largent. I had a… rough night,” I said, trying not to sound like an asshole.

“Respectfully, Wes, why do you look so beat up?” her father asked.

“I played a crazy rock show last night…” my voice trailed off.

I noticed the Sunday paper sitting on the table. The local news page was hanging out. I pulled at the corner to see the cover story. “Local Band, Embers of Twilight, Cause a Scene at Lowell Music Series” was the headline with an awesome photo of us—Kenny on the pavilion and me covered in blood.

“If you’re unsure, that’s me with the guitar in the photo,” I showed him the newspaper.

I could tell by his and his wife’s reaction that they were not enthused. Their daughter was dating a degenerate from a bygone era.

***

After breakfast, I put my shoes on to walk back to the Parris household to meet up with the band. Skye decided she wanted to make out one more time before I hit the road. I was a mess.

When I got to the Parris’ I saw Kenny and Jim’s cars parked out front. I couldn’t hear yelling from the garage, so things hadn’t taken a turn for the worst yet.

I knocked on the door, still not wanting to barge into their home unannounced.

Courtney answered.

“Good morning, Mr. Self Destruct,” she said.

“Morning…Self Destruct?” I asked.

“You look worse than you did last night—” she paused, realizing how much worse I looked. “How have you not taken off your make up…”

Her eyes dropped to my right arm that had a fresh coat of dried blood running from my palm to my elbow. She considered asking, but her fear of my answer stopped her.

“The guys are in the garage… and I’ve got Maggie with me,” she said.

“How is she?” I asked, surprising even myself.

“She’s good—she’s been talking way too in-detail about last night… who knew she was Kenny’s soulmate?” she joked.

“I’m guessing I’m going to hear it from Kenny?”

“I don’t know. He’s a lot like Scott—they don’t really kiss-and-tell.”

With that I made my way to the garage.

“So, we’re in the studio starting tomorrow, we’ve got nine songs for the album, and I really want ‘Darker Days’ to be the tenth,” Scott said with intensity.

“I still haven’t even heard a demo for it, and you want it tracked by the end of the week?” Jim pushed back.

“Wes and I can play it for you later—trust me.”

“Speaking of Wes,” Kenny said, dapping me up.

“Sorry I’m late, I didn’t see the text until I responded.”

“It’s alright, I was in the same boat,” Kenny said with a sarcastic tone.

Jim glared at him, “I don’t care why you guys were late… let’s just hear the song.”

I grabbed Scott’s acoustic from the corner of the room and started playing. I’d added some light vibrato to the melodic sections and added sevenths to the penultimate chords in the cadence. It worked beautifully with the depth of Scott’s vocals.

“Bro, when Maggie told me this song was sick, she wasn’t kidding,” Kenny said, ecstatic.

“Hold up—when did Maggie…nevermind, I don’t know. I don’t get it,” Jim said.

“What don’t you get, Jim?” Scott asked.

“It just sounds like whiny postpunk…the guitar part has texture, but it’s bland. The vocal melody just works across three notes in two octaves—why is everyone so obsessed with this song?”

“Jim, are you listening to the lyrics?” Kenny pushed back.

“Yeah, I don’t get it. It’s just a song about losing your girlfriend—it’s been done to death.”

“Nah, it’s so much deeper than that. Yes, he’s lamenting the loss of a partner, but also the ethereal parts of himself—The cries of a broken man who’s even farther from being whole than he was before, and the darkness in himself and the world around him. As he sings, every line is a request for validation that he should keep living in search of a love that could help him reassemble what he’s lost…” Kenny paused, looking at me. “Or something like that.”

“Fine, we can do it if you’re all so passionate about it,” Jim conceded.

“Alright, so we’re ready to record the album in five days. Scratch, drums, bass, guitar, and then vocals… we’ll do ‘Darker Days’ with just guitar and vocals, so you guys only have to worry about nine songs,” Scott said.

The meeting had concluded. Jim left to go home and practice, leaving the three of us to our own devices.

Despite the recent friction, we enjoyed playing with Jim. He was a necessary foil to the rest of us. My only fear was that if we signed with Stan’s label and started getting tour offers—he would choose his future instead of ours.

***

After the meeting, the three of us practiced together to tighten up before going into the studio. For the first time, Kenny’s body gave out before Scott’s—which wasn’t a surprise after last night

“So, how was last night after we left?” I asked, being nosey.

“It was great—Maggie and I talked for a long time in Lowell before we went back to my place. It was a quiet and romantic night. Nothing crazy.”

“That’s refreshing. How’s your… everything?” Scott asked.

“Oh God, everything hurts like a bitch. I’m never doing that again,” Kenny laughed.

“The internet loved it,” I said.

“I’ve seen the commentary… I just wish Julia didn’t put that pic of Maggie and I up—it’s not fair to Mags,” he paused. “I get that they’re not exactly friends, but Julia’s been my friend for years… I wish she would’ve asked first.”

This was why people loved Kenny. As much as he hated himself, he genuinely cared about the people in his life. He wasn’t even mad at Julia. He understood that she just decided to hurt someone else from a place of her own pain.

“Either way, Maggie and I are together now…” he paused. “I just hope I’m good enough for her—that song ‘Darker Days’ man, I get it. Hoping you can find, or even be, the parts of yourself you lose in love.”

“Thanks, I’m glad it resonates.”

The more I reflected on the lyrics, the more I wondered if they were an artistic expression or a cry for help.

Losing Julia was hard—she loved me for who I was, no performance required. But I’d been unraveling since Caleb left. Falling for Skye only made it messier. The guilt of becoming someone my brother wouldn’t recognize started eating away at me.

I fell for Julia when I was at the start of my descent, and despite her affirmations, I’ve only been coming undone faster. I met Skye at the same time I started seeing Julia, and our chemistry was just better. I caught feelings for her immediately.

Eventually, I’d let all of my emotions take over. Skye knew how I felt about her. The whole situation was messy, but she was doing what she thought was best for her friend. It must have been tough to see Julia date a man who loved someone else.

I digress.

I didn’t know what I was going to do with myself for the rest of the day. Maybe I’d go home. I didn’t want to impose on the Parrises any more than I already had. I wasn’t going to impose on Kenny. Skye’s parents definitely didn’t want to see me again today.

I went home.

As I walked in the house, my parents were both somewhat alert. Empty liquor bottles and beer cans were strewn about the kitchen. Same as always.

“Oh, Wes,” my dad said.

“Yes?” I answered.

He never finished the thought before he fell back to sleep.

I didn’t acknowledge my mother before I went up to my bedroom.

A thin layer of dust was accumulating in the room. It made sense since it was July 1st now, and I hadn’t been back since I left on June 11th. My mother also wasn’t one to clean, so if I wasn’t here to do it, it wasn’t going to get done.

I played guitar for a few hours, but I got bored. I called Skye.

We talked for a couple of hours—at some point, I had a dinner of saltines and Red Bull. The conversation was deeper than I expected. Now that we were dating, Skye was more open about herself and what she wanted in a relationship. Seeing that side of her was refreshing.

We agreed to see each other after the recording sessions this week. Sometimes at her place, sometimes at mine, I guess.

My parents didn’t care when Julia was around—they also didn’t care when I brought Skye here the first time either. There was a sense of freedom in their ambivalence toward me.