Matt glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “You realise, ironically, that in this case, that would actually be true, though.”
Jase grinned. “Maybe. But I’m not fucking singing that. It’d be a cross between Nine Inch Nails’ ‘Hurt’ and ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat’.”
“That’s an appalling comparison.”
“Exactly. But I do like the idea of anger as an anchor. The idea that it holds in place, keeps us from moving, only expelling energy to stay alive when we’re under water. But what frees us from the anchor?”
“Forgiveness?”
“No. Because we’ve both said sorry, yet we both still feel it.”
“Does something else have to replace it? Like, if you let go of anger, are you left with a hole?”
Jase thought about it, pulled memories from his brain. Of his dad pushing him down the last six stairs on the staircase and stepping over him as he left him to cry at the bottom. Sadness, pain, and anger collided. “I don’t know. I think there are two parts to it. The memory of the event, and the emotions the event caused. I guess I’ll never lose the memories of what Dad did. But maybe when I think about them, the emotions are less . . .”
“Volcanic?”
Jase huffed a sad laugh. “Cerys would appreciate that.”
“What happens when we head back? You and Cerys, I mean.”
The thought had been on his mind, a lot. “I go where she goes.”
“It’s as simple as that?”
“Yeah. She wants to open her own recording studio. I want to help her make that happen. In the meantime, she wants experience, and I think that might take her to London. But I have a thought, if you’re open to it. I’d like her to do our gigs and tours, as a sound engineer, if she can and wants to. That way she gets to do what she loves and is good at. Hell, we could even ask her to play piano so Alex can play percussion. But I’d like there to be options I can offer. Especially if I get to have her close by. Assuming she wants to, and the rest of you agree.”
Matt studied him for a moment. “I’d pay her a full-time salary just to be your minder and keep you in a good place.”
“Fuck you,” Jase said good-naturedly.
“I’m serious, but yeah, I agree.”
“Great, but if she doesn’t want it, I’ll just go where she goes.”
Matt placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I don’t blame you. She’s good for you. You asked what frees you from anger. It’s love, Jase. You’ve just got to let it.”
16
Cerys looked around the backstage area of the small Detroit venue. It had been Jimmy’s idea to get the band back into their natural habitat. To play again to a crowd. Riding the high of a successful gig would give the band energy to channel in the studio the next day. A strange dichotomy that staying up late, adding something so exhausting to their packed schedule, would actually make them more effective.
Plus, it was a great way to test some of the newer songs that were ready, and the band were confident to play.
What she hadn’t been prepared for was seeing Jase, the rock star, in action. They’d left his hotel room together after a day working on songs and exploring emotions in their own bubble.
But now, watching him pose for pictures with overly exuberant fans who shamelessly flirted with him, to be rewarded with the smile she thought of as hers, made her restless.
Worse, he hadn’t done a single inappropriate thing, unlike Luke, who she’d caught doing a line of coke with two guys she’d never seen before. Jase had not reciprocated their flirting, hadn’t signed any body parts, and hadn’t got handsy when women had crowded him for selfies and photographs.
No, this was something she’d have to learn how to deal with. A room filled with people incrementally cooler than she was, as music blasted from hidden speakers. Interesting people with severe fades. Women with the ability to make slouchy jogging pants look cool and so much straight, long hair, which she envied.
“Hey,” Jase said, stepping behind her and slipping his arms around her waist before he kissed her neck. “What’s got you all stern faced?”
“Was just thinking I wish I’d picked a different outfit.”
“Nah.” Jase peered over her shoulder and looked down at her feet. “The moon boots are a fashion statement. They say, fuck the institution with a little bit of David Bowie’s ‘Space Oddity’.”
“They’re not that bad.”
Jase grinned and spun her in his arms until she faced him, which left her feeling gooey inside. “It was a compliment, sunshine. They’ve grown on me. Just like you have.”
“Let’s start getting you guys ready to go on,” Jimmy said, gathering the band together. “My friend who owns this place says they’re at ninety percent capacity, and he’d like to keep it that way.”
Luke creaked his neck from left to right, rolling his shoulders in circles to loosen them.
“Sad Fridays.” The voice belonged to a scrawny man dressed in double denim, wearing a red and white kerchief as a bandana. “I’m Darrin, Willow Warner’s dad and manager.”
Matt held out his hand. “Matt Palmer. It’s great to meet you. This is my brother, Jase and my—”
“Glad we could help you guys out on Willow’s platform. She’s at one hundred and ten million followers because we’ve curated her content so carefully. You’re lucky we picked you. Let me go grab her and introduce you.”
He didn’t wait for introductions to finish before he walked through the throng.
“Want to bet his daughter’s success is the first thing he mentions to anyone he meets?” Luke whispered.
Cerys glanced over her shoulder. “I thought exactly the same thing. Thought it might be judgemental of me to assume he’s probably never achieved anything in his life beyond being Willow’s sperm donor.”
“Cerys,” her father warned, but Luke grinned.
Her eyes followed Darrin as he approached a woman perhaps a touch younger than she was. Her dark hair was pulled back off her face, and she held her phone out in front of her, spinning slowly in a circle, clearly filming.
“Did he just knock her arm down?” Luke asked over Cerys’s shoulder.
“If I’m being generous, I might say he was encouraging her to stop filming, but it did look like that.”
“What a dick. Dad always used to say that to judge a man, you should watch how he treats a woman,” Luke said.
“Your dad sounds like he was a wise man.”
“Yeah, he was.”
Darrin approached them. “Willow, this is Sad Fridays. Can you believe your breakup video led to them coming to record their album here? What we were able to do for them? Would you guys be up for filming some content for Shamaze?”
Jase put his hands up. “Sorry, mate. Happy to take a picture but the whole dance choreography storytelling thing is your territory, not ours.”
Luke nodded. “We’ve got rhythm, but not necessarily moves.”
Willow tipped her head to one side and smiled at Luke. “I’m sure I could teach you.”