Life After Light

by E. S. Maria

  “I won’t. It’ll be a freakin’ disaster!”

  “So you’re either really, really deaf or fishing for compliments. But too late, I’m adding that to my playlist. You’re gonna be amazing, Hannah Banana.”

  “I’m going to need shots both before and after that one song, Brodie. Then I’m probably going to kill you for making me do this. Straight after your set, you’re done for.”

  “Good luck with that because you have to find me first,” Brodie laughingly teases me.

  My eyes widen at his answer, and I feign a hurt look on my face.

  “Oh shit, was that too soon? I’m so sorry, Hannah,” Brodie places his hands on my shoulders, his voice sincere and apologetic.

  I answer with the only way I know how … the same way I used to get back at him when he used to annoy the hell out of me.

  Without warning, I give both of his nipples a hard twist. Hard enough that he feels the burn through his T-shirt, making him screech in agony.

  “Didn’t need my eyes to do that, dickhead!” I laugh out aloud.

  “Tell me again why I’m doing this? I can’t go on, Brodie. This is insane!” I nervously whisper to my brother while we’re sitting in the booth closest to the stage. I’m already on my third shot of tequila, hoping this liquid courage will actually work.

  “You got this, Han,” he reassures me. “You should be loosening up by now. How many shots have you had, anyway?”

  “First of all, no, I don’t ‘got’ this. I have never sang, nor have I played guitar onstage. This will be my first, and possibly my last performance. And this tequila’s not working! Are you sure you gave me tequila?”

  “Hey, if this will be your last performance, which I’m highly doubtful of, then bloody make it count!” Brodie sighs. “Look, the place is packed, and most of these people know who we are. They’re not here to judge you or me. They’re here to have a good time. Why don’t you just give them a little bit more credit, huh?”

  “I know. I’m just … I don’t know,” I mumble. The noise buzzing from the crowd muffles the sound of my nervous heart beating, but I can still feel it thumping.

  Okay … now I feel nauseous. Oh, boy.

  “Oh my God. Hannah?” a familiar, sweet-sounding voice calls my name.

  That voice. How can I not know who owns that voice?

  “Brook?” I turn my head to the direction where the voice comes from, feeling equally astounded. “Brooklyn Sanders, is that you?”

  “Oh my God!” she cries, then her familiar scent hits me, followed by familiar arms wrapping around me, and not letting go. “I can’t believe it. I mean, I was hoping to visit you at your place while I’m here for a break although I never really held any hope that you’d want to see me. But you’re here, and you can’t escape me now!”

  “I’m so sorry, Brook. I was in a really bad place after Paul … and now I’m blind …”

  “I know, you don’t need to explain,” she tells me. “We all felt Paul’s loss. We all grieved with you, Hannah. And we understood that you needed time.”

  I say nothing, as I close my eyes, feeling my chest clench. I remember vividly the shame I felt, self-loathing after our accident. It led me to drive off everyone I cared for. I hated myself for what I did, and I was too scared that they’d see through my grief and find out that I was the cause of it all.

  “But hey, you’ve been given this gift of a second chance, Hannah. And I’m sure Paul would want you to use this gift and continue to live.”

  I choke on my tears, nodding. She’s only been here for less than five minutes and she already knows how to make me feel better.

  “I’m trying to live again, Brook. But it hasn’t been easy. I’m just thankful that Brodie’s here right now.” I reach for my brother, giving his shoulder a good squeeze.

  “Hey, Brook,” I hear Brodie speak apprehensively.

  “Hey …” Brook hesitantly answers back.

  Even through the tears I’m wiping off, I notice the tension in their voices. It seems weird, but my gut feeling is telling me there’s more to it than meets the eye between these two.

  Am I just being paranoid, or do I need to look into this further?

  I try to set the thoughts aside for now so I can try to enjoy the fact that one of my best friends is actually here, and she has forgiven me.

  And very soon, she’ll watch me make a fool of myself.

  Shit, I can’t believe I’m still going through with this!

  Just then I hear a guy’s voice introducing himself as the host. He thanks everyone for coming to Peak and for supporting the club’s first ever open mic night.

  That’s it, I can’t play the guitar now; my hands are too clammy!

  “And now to kick things off, we have a surprise for all of you,” the host says. “We have a guest here at Peak, who’s also a friend of mine. But he’s not just any guest. He’s the lead singer of this little known band called, what was it again … Halcyon?” The crowd erupts in cheers, with the girls high-pitched screaming filling the space so loudly that it’s practically deafening.

  “Let’s welcome home, Brodie Mackenzie, everyone!” The crowd roars once again, and if I weren’t so damn nervous, I would be joining them too.

  “That’s my cue. Meet you up there later, sis,” he whispers, giving my temple a quick peck, and as the cheers become louder, I know that he’s now onstage. Brook is now holding my hand, and I give her a squeeze―maybe a little too tightly.

  “Why are you trying to numb my hand?” Brook asks, chuckling softly.

  “Sorry, I’m just nervous,” I answer, wincing.

  “Don’t be. You’ll kill it on stage, I’m sure of it,” she reassures me.

  Wait. I thought this was supposed to be a surprise? I thought no one knew I was playing except for Brodie?

  “How did you know I’m going up there?”

  “Uh …” she pauses, and I turn towards her with curiosity.

  “What’s going on, Brook? How did you know I was playing?”

  “But you might get mad at me. Please promise me you won’t be mad.”

  “Why do I not like where this is heading?” exhaling aloud, I continue, “I was the bad friend between us so of course I won’t be mad. So … out with it.”

  “Okay, here goes … Brodie and I are—”

  “Dating?” I cut her off.

  “What? You know?”

  “It’s funny how losing my sense of sight made my remaining senses a lot stronger.”

  “I asked him not to tell you yet until I’m here. I wanted you to hear it from both of us. Are … are you angry?” Brook asks, sounding genuinely worried.

  I reflect on her question and realise that I’m not. How can I be?

  Shaking my head, I answer, “No. I’m pissed off that he kept it from me, but it’s only because I would’ve given both of you my blessing sooner.”

  “It’s all new, Hannah. And it only really started by chance when I bit the bullet and contacted Brodie so I could ask how you were doing. One thing led to another. I wasn’t really sure how you’d take it.”

  “Well, you’ve been crushing hard on my brother since you started wearing a bra. Until now, I still can’t figure out why.”

  “I wasn’t that obvious, was I?”

  “You were,” I chuckle. “But my brother wasn’t exactly subtle when he started noticing you. I just didn’t want to say anything before because I didn’t want things to get awkward between you two if my suspicions were incorrect.”

  “Damn, all this wasted time, just because I never thought Brodie saw me that way.”

  “Are you happy though? Are you both happy?”

  “I can’t speak for your brother, but I’m so happy, Hannah.”

  “Then nothing’s wasted.” I hold her close to me, squeezing her tight.

  “Oh man, enough about me and Brodie. How about after the show, you and I have our own girl time and just catch up?” Brook squeezes me in an embrace again. “I missed you so muc
h.”

  “I missed you so much too. But seriously though, I just want to know if you’re ready for what comes with dating someone like Brodie. I mean I love my brother to death, but he was just on tour and he’ll be on tour again. You’re just starting your degree so you’ll be busy too. Atticus left me for his music, Brook. I don’t want you to feel the hurt I felt.”

  “I understand your concern, and I love you for it. But we’re still figuring it out. And who can really tell? Maybe this will be different, maybe it would end up in a heartbreak, who knows? But I’m willing to find out where this takes us.”

  Brook sounds choked up, and I feel a twinge of guilt for making her feel like this.

  But she’s right. Love’s like a lottery. Sometimes you just get lucky and hit a jackpot. Sometimes, your luck just runs out.

  “You’re right … I totally agree.”

  “Thanks, Han. Thank you for being so understanding about this whole thing.” Brook gives me another hug, and manages to squeeze the guilt out of me and replaces it with joy.

  She’s always been such a wonderful hugger. I never realised how much I missed that about her.

  We both turn our attention back towards Brodie, now singing the acoustic version of Halcyon’s hit song, “Amplify.” I can’t help but feel that bubble of pride at how a song written in the old shed at home has now become one of the most played songs on the radio.

  By the middle of his second song, my stupid nerves decide to make a comeback, making me nauseous with anxiety from an onset of stage fright. I know I’m supposed to come up on stage soon after Brodie has finished with the second song. He’ll do some sort of introduction before he accompanies me towards the stage.

  “You’re shaking, Han. And your hands are getting all sweaty,” she says, as she playfully wipes my palms on my jeans.

  “That’s because I have to be on stage soon. I’m a nervous wreck!”

  Brook chuckles softly, “Well, stop it, woman. You’re beautiful and super talented, and you look absolutely perfect in your skinny jeans with that off the shoulder top. And did I mention how killer your boots are? Oh, wait!” I hear Brook rummaging through what I presume is her purse. “Good, I brought it with me.” She turns my head towards her, holding my face secure by the chin. Then I feel something moist running over my lips, followed by the distinct taste of strawberries.

  “What the hell?” I ask when she’s done. “Is that lipstick?”

  “Nope. It’s just a nice, tinted lip gloss. Your lips will look absolutely fantastic under the lights.”

  I suddenly remember the side of my face that needs to be hidden. So I sweep my hair on my right shoulder, fluffing it up a little so my scar is covered.

  “What are you doing?” Brook asks.

  “What do you think? I don’t want these people to freak out when they see this,” I tell her, cheeks reddening from the imminent embarrassment.

  “No one will freak out when they see you. Your scar’s not even that obvious. Don’t worry. And if someone says something, I’m going to fucking punch that person in the throat, then your brother will hold that person down so I can carry on with the punching.”

  I can’t help but laugh at sweet Brook’s threat of violence in the name of loyalty.

  This is why I never should have pushed my friends away.

  Moments like these make me realise how much I took my friendships for granted.

  But I have no time to feel any form of regret. As soon as I hear Brodie starting on the introductions, I know I have to man up and put my game face on.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for deciding to stick around after a couple of songs. But right now, I’d like you to indulge me with some amount of your time so I can welcome to the stage, my sister and sometimes best bud, Hannah.”

  I hear murmurs from the patrons around the bar, with some laughing at Brodie’s intro. But all it’s making me want to do is melt into the leather of the booth’s seat.

  “Most of you don’t know it, but my sister actually plays guitar as well. Mind you that unlike her big brother, she wasn’t very good at first.” There is some laughter scattering around, and I know this is Brodie’s light-hearted attempt at humour is his way of making me feel comfortable enough to take the stage.

  But I’m still nervous … nervous about how I’ll sound, how I’ll play my guitar and how I’ll sing that cover.

  Brodie continues on, “Nah, I’m just kidding. She plays like a pro. She’s also writing her own songs and let me tell you, they are pretty sick. But …” I hear my brother exhale through the mic, “something happened six months ago that changed everything.”

  My stomach twists in knots, and I try to keep my composure as I push past the anguish.

  I can’t break down in here.

  “All I want to say is that my sister went through hell and back, and I’ve never admired anyone’s tenacity more than I admire hers. So it will be an honour if she joins me onstage for one song tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for my sister, Hannah Mackenzie!”

  As Brook helps me out of the booth, amongst the cheers from the audience, I get an instant epiphany.

  It’s all clear now.

  Paul.

  The first thing I feel as I’m guided on the stage is the warmth of the lights on my skin. Though some of the light is seeping through my eyes, the warmth tells me exactly how bright it is.

  The next thing I feel is a rush of adrenalin flowing from inside of me, and my heart racing.

  With Paul’s smiling face in my thoughts, I reach for the microphone, my guitar across my chest.

  “Hi, everyone, I’m Hannah. I just wanna say you guys sound amazing, and thank you Brodie, for the kind intro,” I chuckle softly, the crowd joining in with encouraging cheers.

  “I was supposed to do a cover song for you tonight. But I thought, since this is open mic night, anything goes, right?” I hear the crowd clap in agreement, instantly boosting my confidence. “So, I’ve decided to deviate from my original choice so I can sing you an original song instead. Is that alright?”

  The crowd roars once again, making me smile back at them.

  Now I’m beginning to understand why my brother loves to perform.

  “I wrote this song for a special person in my life. Well, it was actually for our first anniversary. I didn’t have a lot of money to spend, so I decided to write him this song instead. When he was taken from this world way too soon, I … I took it quite hard. And even though I’m still on the road to acceptance, I consider the time I’ve spent with him as a blessing because he truly was that … a blessing, not only to me, but also to the people who knew him well. And wherever he is right now, I hope that he’s listening because every word in this song is dedicated to him. This song is called ‘Dear Mister.’”

  And as always, I take one deep breath, I close my eyes and I strum.

  After I hit the last note of the song, the crowd erupts in a high-spirited cheer. I respond with an awkward bow, endorphins making my heart pound. Brodie comes up to me and whispers that people are standing up, clapping, whistling, and asking for more.

  My eyes fill up with tears.

  I did it. I can’t believe it. The crowd is still clapping, their sound thunderous.

  I don’t know how to describe how I’m feeling in this very moment. But one thing’s for sure: what just happened is beyond invigorating.

  I wish Paul could see this. I wish he were here so he would know without question that he would always have a place in my heart.

  “Thank you. Thanks, everyone,” I bow my head several times, humbled by the crowd’s continued, positive response.

  “Give them a wave, Hannah Banana,” Brodie whispers.

  I do what he says. He asks me if I want to sing another song. I shake my head no.

  I want to leave the stage on a high.

  It feels like I’ve just exorcised my inner demons, like I’ve finally bid my goodbye to the guilt and regrets. Like this is me, telling Paul that I’ll b
e forever grateful to him for the way he loved me, but it’s time to start a new chapter.

  I told myself before that I wanted to move forward with baby steps.

  But after tonight, I’ve finally realised that sometimes, moving forward means throwing yourself off a cliff, and trusting that the universe will help you land right on the very spot where your new journey should begin.

  Still on the weirdest high, I give the audience one final wave before Brodie takes the mic and my guitar, thanking me for an ‘epic’ performance, before ushering me back off the stage and onto Brook’s waiting hands.

  At least I thought it was Brook’s.

  But this person feels way too much like the very last person I expect to hold me.

  “Atticus?” I call out, my hands instantly on his arms, then on the sides of his face, my smile fading.

  Well-muscled arms, a light scruff on the face … and that scent―that same scent I used to love smelling on my clothes and skin.

  Oh God. This is the last thing I need right now.

  “Hi,” he says.

  “You’re here,” I answer back.

  “I wasn’t going to miss this, Hannah. You were phenomenal up there, just like I knew you would be,” he says.

  I hate how sincere he sounds.

  His touch makes my skin tingle, so I push myself off him. I don’t want him to feel what his touch can still do to me.

  Stupid body chemical reaction.

  “Why are you here? No one told me you were coming,” I whisper harshly to him.

  “You’re surprised, I understand. But let me take you to your booth first so we can talk.” Atticus places his hand on my lower back, and carefully guides me around the crowd and into the booth.

  “I don’t think we really have anything to talk about. Where is Brook?” I ask.

  “She was filming your performance so your parents can watch it, but now she’s giving her boyfriend some water. Don’t worry, I’m not kidnapping you; I offered.” I hear the leather squeak, and the cushion dips on one side.

  Great, now he’s sitting next to me.

  And not only that, he heard me sing about Paul!

  “Why are you here, Atticus?” I ask again.

  “I was invited.”