He grinned and slipped his phone back into his pocket.
“Feels a bit weird sitting here without a high, a hangover, or an attitude. Got a call from Steve at the pub last night, desperate because he was three staff down, so I went and filled in for the night.”
“You know you don’t need to work in the pub anymore, right?” Matt said.
“I know. But I had nothing else to do, and I owe Steve a favour for dealing with my shit. Meant I could talk to Cerys when I got home because she was just wrapping up work.”
Matt studied him. “You miss her.”
The surprise in Matt’s tone caught him off guard. “What do you mean by that?”
Matt placed his guitar on the sofa. “I wondered if . . . look, I know you and her had something really good going in Detroit, but I kind of wondered if, when you got back, the novelty would fade.”
“The novelty?” He’d not had a big wave in a while. But this one felt pretty choppy and tumultuous, like he was about to be tossed around like flotsam.
“Cool your heels, mate. This, you, us, Cerys. It’s all new. And for what it’s worth, it’s good. But I wondered if you might get caught back up in old habits when you got back here.”
Jase pursed his lips and blew out a steady, controlled stream of air. He visualised his initial response, to fight Matt’s words, leave his body. Digging deeper, he searched for why it hurt and whether there was truth in Matt’s words.
“It is new. All of it. And I have to think about what I’m doing because none of it feels natural yet. So, I get what you’re sayin’.”
Matt just stared.
“What?” Jase asked.
“I just realised that I still brace when I talk to you sometimes. Like, I prepare myself for the rebuttal, for the angry words, to be ready to fight when you lash out.”
“Fuck, Matt. I’m sorry.”
“I think we agreed in Detroit that we know each other is sorry for what happened, right?”
“Yeah. But it doesn’t make it easier to hear, that you’ve been such a dick that your brother is scared of you.”
Matt shook his head, a slight smile on his face. “Don’t flatter yourself, tough guy. I never said I was scared. Just that I braced so I could battle however you responded. Anyway, we got off track. Cerys. You miss her.”
Jase rubbed his palm over his heart, his new tattoo healing beneath his shirt. “Yeah. I woke up this morning thinking about her. Scribbled some lyrics down in a notebook she sent me that arrived a few days ago. Then ordered some flowers to be delivered to the studio. And yesterday, I spent a fucking fortune at the post office sending off some stuff she was missing from home. A shit ton of Curly Wurlys, a bar of Cadbury Fruit and Nut, and a bag of Jelly Babies. Went shopping in Tesco’s for them. Before I knew it, I’d thrown in two facemasks because I know she likes using them, a black sparkly nail polish, because I know she loves shit like that, and a candle with my initial because I’m a possessive bastard who wants to make sure she doesn’t forget about me. So, yeah. I miss her.”
Matt grinned. “A candle with your initial?”
“Fuck you.”
“No, it’s cute.”
Jase glared but couldn’t keep his face straight. “Cost me thirty quid to send it all because the candle was heavy.”
Now, Matt was really laughing. Like, full on holding his stomach, laughing, and it felt shockingly . . . good.
“Arsehole,” he muttered.
Once he’d composed himself, Matt strummed on his bass. “Want to tell me about the lyrics you wrote?”
Jase grabbed his notebook from his bag. “It’s more thoughts than anything. That’s how I tend to do it.” He flicked to the page. “It’s about wanting to tell someone that you love them. And waiting to hear it back from them.”
“Yeah. I like it. Kinda know that feeling too. I was shitting bricks when I told Iz.”
“Why? She’s loved you for fucking ever.”
Matt paused. “Yeah. But there’s always that risk that they don’t love you as much as you love them.”
When his heart lurched, he knew why. He worried that Cerys’s feelings wouldn’t be as strong as his own. “Why do you think I sent Cerys a candle with my fucking initial on it? But I think the theme of the song is more hopeful than that. It’s the anticipation of the moment. And how you’re already showing the person how much you love them before you put the words to it. It’s a journey. You meet someone. And slowly, you like spending time with them. And then, they become the default for everything. If you want to go out or stay home and everything in between, it’s them you want to do it with. And before you know it, you’re capable of shit you never knew you were.”
“You’re sending them candles with your initial?” This time, Matt wasn’t laughing, he was serious.
“Yeah. Because slowly, your lives are mingling, and your energies are mixing, and the sum of the two is something way more spectacular than you could ever add up to on your own. And it’s not that you aren’t independent and happy and capable when you are single. But there’s an alchemy that happens when you’re not, when you find the other person whose atoms line up with yours. The words, I love you, are the chemical reaction that cements it all.”
“Mr. Wiggins would love the fact all that chemistry he tried to teach you in school didn’t go to waste.”
“Yeah. Shocker, right?”
“I love it, Jase. There’s something very lyrical about it. You’re really fucking good at this when you let yourself be.”
Matt’s words made his chest expand. Praise was something he’d not heard a lot of in his life, and it was a bit of a marvel how even the slightest off-hand comment made him feel like a giant. “Thanks.”
Luke silently flopped down onto the sofa next to them, looking decidedly dishevelled.
“Maybe when we’re done here, you and I could spend some more time working on this together. Flesh it out. I know we don’t need new songs right now, seeing we just nailed the album down. But it might be better than trying to write outside of that pressure cooker environment. See what we come up with,” Matt said.
“I’d like that.”
“What about you, Luke? Want to join us? I think it would be pretty awesome to work songs out as a group.”
Luke slumped back in the sofa. “Not with the hard-on you two have for each other right now.”
Jase grimaced. “What the fuck, man? That’s my brother.”
Luke shrugged. “You two are all up in each other’s space now you worked out some shit in Detroit. Looks like a songwriting match made in heaven.”
Matt leaned forward, placed his elbows on his knees. “Fuck, Luke. You’ve always been an intrinsic part of the process.”
The stagehand approached them. “Matt, the band needs to head onstage now. One minute countdown.”
Luke was up and on his feet towards the stage before they could speak to him further.
“Fuck, I didn’t think about how all this would affect him,” Matt said.
“You think he feels pushed out?”
“I don’t know, but I think we should keep an eye on him.”