HeartLess

by Love, Kristy

  “We bicker,” Nash responded. He took his gaze away from me, and I felt cold without it. He smiled at Felix, clearly ready to egg him on. “We bicker like little old ladies trying to decide where they’re going to Bingo night.”

  Felix rolled his eyes. “We don’t bicker; we debate.”

  “You can keep denying it, but it doesn’t make it any less true.” Nash pushed his hair out of his face. It’d been a little longer than usual since he’d gotten a haircut. I liked the extra length. I liked when it brushed against his brows or hung in his eyes.

  I needed to come to terms with the fact that I just liked him. God, did I like him. I wanted him to lay back down on my stomach, so I could feel the heat from his skin warming mine. I wanted to close my eyes and envision him looking down at me with something more than concern in his eyes.

  Peyton tapped her pencil against Felix’s forehead. “Did you guys ever think of playing at a party or anything?” Her voice was fake nonchalance—clearly, she’d thought of it.

  “We’re not ready,” Nash responded. He teased me for being a perfectionist when he was worse about music than I ever was.

  “We’ll never be ready, according to you.” Felix nabbed Peyton’s pencil mid-tap.

  “There’s a party at Ben’s this weekend. He was looking for a band or something.” Peyton shrugged. “I mentioned you guys.”

  “No way,” Felix said. He popped up, grinning down at her.

  “Yeah. You’ve been playing together for a while now. I thought it was time you made it official.” Peyton snagged her pencil back from Felix now that he was distracted.

  “There’s no way we can play this weekend.” Nash shook his head.

  “Come on, man. If not now, when? It’ll give us a chance to figure out the kinks. We can work on the stuff we need to polish after it’s over.” Felix was practically begging. I’d never seen him this desperate or pushy. He usually went with the flow, letting everyone around him call the shots.

  Nash seemed to mull it over, his eyes clouding. “We’ve just been messing around, I didn’t think we were being serious.” He laid back down, the pressure of his head on my stomach made me feel like I was floating. Having him near me was everything I wanted.

  “Tell me you don’t want to perform, and I’ll drop it.” Felix stared at Nash, daring him to contradict him.

  “It’d be cool, but I don’t think we’re there yet.”

  Felix continued looking at Nash, almost glaring. I fought the urge to shift, not wanting to disrupt Nash’s head against my stomach. There was an intensity pinging between Nash and Felix that made me slightly uncomfortable. I got the feeling that this wasn’t the first time this subject had been debated. Felix probably dropped it, figuring he could fight the battle later. This time, he clearly wasn’t going to let it drop so easily. “Let’s do it this once, and if it doesn’t work out, we don’t have to do it again.”

  Nash’s eyes got a faraway look. His hand twirled my hair again, almost like it was helping him think. “We don’t even have a band name,” he said softly, almost to himself. His gaze moved to Felix. “Are we a band?”

  Felix scoffed. “For real, dude? What the fuck do you think we’ve been doing? Baking cookies? I thought that’s what we were moving toward, being a band, playing gigs, sharing the music.”

  “It feels so soon. I don’t think I’m ready.” Nash sat up and looked down at his legs. I ached to ease the insecurity off his face.

  “Nash, you are one of the best musicians I’ve ever met in my life,” Peyton interjected. “You played the hell out of the piano, and I’m sure you slay it on guitar. Yes, you’re new to guitar still, but come on. At some point, you have to pull on your big boy panties and try.” She smiled. “And it doesn’t really matter. I told Ben you’d play, so you are. I don’t care if you call yourselves the Teletubbies, you’re playing.”

  Felix burst into laughter and fist bumped Peyton. “I love your initiative. And the name suggestion.” He turned to Nash. “It sounds like it’s out of our hands. Let’s do this.”

  “Okay. Let’s do this,” Nash agreed, begrudgingly.

  I sat up and hugged Nash, so unbelievably excited. “I can’t wait to see you guys play,” I said.

  “You’re gonna be there?” he asked.

  I shoved his shoulder. “Of course, I’m going to be there. Do you really think you could keep me away?”

  A grin spread across his lips, and he pulled me close. Saturday couldn’t come soon enough.

  * * *

  Ben’s parties always drew a big crowd and tonight wasn’t any different. We’d been here for an hour, milling around. Nash and Felix were setting their stuff up in the backyard. Luckily it was a mild late spring day. The air was warm without being oppressive, and it hadn’t rained in days, which was a feat for Pittsburgh. They’d debated forever on what songs to play. They’d been working on a few together, but Nash insisted they weren’t ready for the world, so they agreed on covers.

  “Do you think they’re going to do okay?” I asked Peyton for the eightieth time as Nash tuned his guitar.

  Peyton sipped her lukewarm drink. I wasn’t sure if she was drinking the crappy beer that was offered or something nonalcoholic. “I think they’re going to rock it.”

  “He’s so nervous.” Nash kept pulling at his hair and adjusting the strap on his guitar.

  “He’ll be fine. It’s stage fright. It’s their first time. Popping your cherry is always a little painful.”

  I laughed. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Peyt.”

  “Shrivel up and die.” She smiled. “Are you ever going to tell Nash that you totally want to do him?”

  My mouth dropped open in horror, and I looked around, hoping no one had heard what she’d said. “My God, Peyton. Seriously?”

  “Come on, your eyes undress him every time he’s even in the vicinity.”

  “Do not.” My protest was weak. I didn’t undress him, but I sure as hell envisioned what it’d be like to kiss him when I wanted to—to hold his hand.

  “You can deny it to everyone but me. I know your game, girlfriend. You totally want him.” She raised her eyebrows, daring me to tell her she was wrong. Of course, I couldn’t. Thankfully, Nash tapped the microphone in front of him to save me from having to respond.

  “Hey,” he said, shyly. His cheeks flamed red. “Let’s get this party started!” Without further words, they launched into a Twenty One Pilots song. They were one of Nash’s favorite bands and the guys kind of had the same setup as them. Felix on the drums, Nash singing, playing guitar, and piano.

  My heart pounded against my ribs as they played, looking over the crowd to see what the reaction was. At first, no one paid much attention. The guys were good, but not great. It seemed Nash was a victim of his nerves as his voice wobbled. Felix was ferocious behind the drums, his arms moving so quickly they were almost invisible. As one song bled into the next, more people started paying attention, nodding along to the song. Some people even went and danced in front of their setup.

  Nash’s eyes found mine as he sang, widening as if he couldn’t believe people were actually enjoying their performance. I smiled at him and threw my arms in the air, doing a little dance. The way his eyes stayed pinned to me made my blood heat. I moved my hips more to the music and watched him. Even with everyone around us, it felt like it was just the two of us. His eyes ran over my body slowly, then moved back up. Feeling his eyes on me was intoxicating. It made me bolder, my moves getting a little looser, a little more flirtatious. My grin widened as the corner of his lips tipped up as he continued playing. Even with the space and the bodies between us, it felt intimate.

  “You’re doing it again,” Peyton whispered in my ear, pulling me from my dance with Nash. “You can pretend you don’t want him all you want, but the evidence is written all over you.” She leveled me with a glare, then turned back to the music. Instead of losing myself in the moment again, I stood there and sipped my root beer. I was suddenly
insanely self-conscious, nervous everyone around us could tell how I felt about Nash.

  When they finished playing, the guys came over and joined us. We told them how good they’d done and hung out with them some more, though I kept distance between Nash and me. My body was still on fire from our connection earlier. I didn’t want him to realize how he affected me.

  * * *

  Age 16

  That was the first of many gigs for Nash and Felix. Every weekend, it seemed they were somewhere else. Sometimes they played parties for our friends, sometimes they played in coffee shops. There were a few venues around the city that hosted local bands. Some of the options were limited since they were only fifteen, but there were still places for them to play. It was like Nash had gotten a taste and couldn’t satisfy his craving for performing. Felix was thrilled with his change of heart.

  I finally had an outlet for my planning skills. I made calls and booked most of their gigs. I bought another planner just to keep track of all the stuff the guys had going on. All the years of being teased by my friends for being so highly organized finally paid off. They never uttered a word about it anymore, probably because they saw how good I was at keeping all of their schedules lined up and in order.

  It was a lazy summer day, and we were all hanging out in my living room. We’d gone to the neighborhood pool earlier, and now we were all sun-drunk and tired. My head was in Nash’s lap and his fingers skated through my hair. My eyes were closed, and I swam in the sensations he caused. I fought the urge to nuzzle closer to him.

  School started back up in a few days, and we were soaking up the last bit of freedom we had. We were going to be juniors, and it felt like adulthood was starting to breathe down our necks. Peyton and I were looking at college brochures and planning what we wanted to do after high school was over. As usual, Nash and Felix were avoiding it all.

  “You know, it’s getting really annoying to call and book gigs for you guys and using your names. You need a band name,” I said, my voice lazy. I was close to falling asleep, though I didn’t want to. I wanted to feel every second of Nash touching me.

  Nash made a noise in the back of his throat, and my eyes popped open. He was gazing down at me, something indiscernible in them. “Felix and I have talked about it a lot. We’re still trying to figure out it.”

  “What he means to say is he’s a picky asshole who needs everything to be just right.” Felix did air quotes around the words and I chuckled.

  “It’s a big deal. This is how we present ourselves, it defines our brand.” Nash’s hand stilled on my head.

  “Blah, blah, blah. We don’t have a brand. We need a damn band name.” Felix’s voice had an edge to it.

  Nash’s fingers went back to playing with my hair, and we were all silent. I was trying to think of ideas, but I couldn’t focus on more than his proximity to me. “What about HeartLess?” Nash offered after a long time.

  “I like it.” Felix nodded. “So HeartLess.”

  “Perfect.” Nash smiled down at me like I was the one who came up with the name on my own.

  “Does that mean you guys are advertising your assholeness?” Peyton quipped.

  Felix laughed. “Yeah. It’s better to let the ladies know that they won’t be getting anything from us.”

  Nash rolled his eyes. “What do you think, Bee?” he said, his voice low, like it was meant just for me.

  “I like it.”

  “Yeah?” He ran a finger down the side of my face. Tingles raced over my skin. “We wrote a song recently with that title, and it’s been stuck in my head ever since.”

  “I think it’s good.” I smiled. “I’ll book you guys a gig somewhere cool, just so I can say your awesome new name.”

  He laughed, and the sound was more beautiful than any other song I’d ever heard.

  Chapter 3

  It was one of the rare Saturday nights when Nash and Felix didn’t have a gig planned. It was even rarer because Nash and I were alone. Peyton was out on a date, and Felix was at a wedding for someone in his family. Nash flipped through the channels on the TV rapidly, unable to settle on anything to watch. I played with the strings on my hoodie, watching his profile. We were both sitting on the couch, though there was space between us. His parents weren’t home, and neither was his sister, who was rarely here now that she was off at college. She was going to Pitt downtown but lived on campus.

  Nash turned the TV off and slammed the remote down on the table. “There’s nothing on.” His body rolled with uneasy energy. I had no idea what was going on, but something was unsettling him.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  He buried his face in his hands and shook his head. “I don’t know. I just… I can’t explain it.” He rested his head against the back of the couch and blew out a slow breath. “I want something more, you know? Something different.” He turned to face me. “Don’t you ever feel that way? Like you want out of this town, to do something different?”

  I studied his face, the anxious lines of it. Sometimes I wanted something different, but I was happy here. My family was here, my best friends, my life. “I guess.”

  He pushed himself off the couch and paced around the room. “Sometimes I feel like I’m going to claw out of my skin, like I need something different than this life. I feel like I’m wasting away, Bee. I don’t know how to stop it.”

  The anguish on his face gutted me. I stood and went to him, the instinct to comfort him too strong to ignore. I wrapped my arms around him, curving my body into his. He held onto me. His heart beat a heavy rhythm in his chest. My mind reeled with ways to help him, to ease the anxiety coursing through him. The room was filled with his mood and I couldn’t think around it. “What would help?”

  “I don’t know.” His hands pressed harder against my back. “Have you ever thought of booking us somewhere outside the city? I feel like we’ve played the same places over and over. It’d be nice to play to a new crowd.”

  I looked up at him. “Why don’t we look together?” I asked. He nodded and grabbed the laptop from the desk in the corner. We got situated on the couch and he opened a browser tab, typing in under 21 concert venues, small bands. He widened the search to include all of Pennsylvania. Most of the places were ones we’d never go to. They looked rundown or rough. Some were for older bands, even though we’d searched for venues accepting younger people. After what felt like forever, my eyes landed on The Philly. I pointed at the screen. “What about this one? I’ve heard of it. Isn’t that where Indecision got started?” They were a band from right outside Philadelphia that blew up years ago. They’d become a huge name in music. I was pretty sure The Philly is where they’d kind of kick started their career.

  “Do you think they’d accept us?” Nash pinched his bottom lip between his fingers.

  “Only one way to find out.” I found their number and dialed. I cleared my throat as it rang, sitting up straighter.

  “Hi, this is Roger. You’ve reached The Philly. If you’re looking to book a time slot, leave a message, and I’ll get back to you,” the gruff voice said. I left a brief, professional voice message and hung up.

  “There’s nothing to do now but wait.” I shrugged.

  “It’d be cool if we got in there, but I’m not holding my breath.” Nash closed the laptop, then sat back on the cushions.

  “Only time will tell.” I pulled my legs up underneath me. “Let’s watch a movie.” He picked up the remote and turned the TV on, this time settling on something on HBO. I hoped for his sake that Roger called me back. I wanted to get this for him so badly.

  * * *

  I sat at my desk, bent over my math textbook doing homework. I had a ton of homework to do and a huge English test tomorrow. I’d come straight to my room and gotten to work when I’d gotten home. The end of the grading period was soon, and it was like the teachers felt the need to crush us with work. My phone rang with a number I didn’t recognize.

  “Hello?” I answered.

&nbs
p; “Hi, is this Bianca Fair?” the voice answered. I immediately recognized it as the voice from The Philly.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “This is Roger. I’m scouting some new talent to perform, and I figured I’d give you a call about your guys.” I heard shuffling papers. “I’m going to need some kind of recording—video or audio.”

  “Of course,” I said, scrambling. I navigated my laptop to YouTube, pulling up the page the guys uploaded some of their performances to. “I have YouTube links, does that work?”

  “Yeah. Email them to me.” He rattled off an email address, and I typed it in a new message, then pasted the links to a few of their better gigs into the body of the message.

  “I just sent them.” I bit my lip nervously.

  I heard some clicking and more shuffling from his end of the call, then the muted sounds of HeartLess playing in the background. Roger grunted. “They’re good.” He sounded surprised. I held my breath for what felt like forever as he continued watching them. “I have an opening on October twenty-second. They’ll be on at seven, after another act, closing out the show. I usually don’t give new, young talent the main spot, but I like these guys.” I scribbled frantically across my math notebook, trying to get all the details down as my hand shook. “Be here at four to set everything up and make sure it’s all ready to go when we open the doors at six. They’ll have an hour and a half to play.” My hand cramped with how furiously I was writing. “Any questions?”

  My mind reeled, unable to fully comprehend what was happening. “I don’t think so right now.”

  “If you need anything, call me back at this number, and I’ll do my best to help you.”

  “Thank you so much.” I stood, holding the phone painfully tight in my hand. “They’ll be so excited.”

  “Welcome to The Philly family. I hope the show is a success for them. See you then.” He hung up before I had time to respond. I stared at my phone, in complete disbelief over what had just happened. I needed to tell Nash and Felix. I opened the planner for the band and checked today. They were practicing in Nash’s garage. I flew down the stairs and threw my shoes on and a hoodie. Thankfully, my parents were still at work, so I didn’t have to answer the barrage of questions they always had anytime I left the house.