by London Casey
“Come on, Maggie, don’t play that game.”
“I don’t know a thing.”
“You’re a liar,” I said.
“Then tell me what I know,” she said. “And if you’re right, I’ll nod.”
“Just nod because I know.”
“Whatever then.”
She left her room, bumping into me, smiling. I walked behind her and thought about what to say.
“Tell you what, what are the plans with the guys tonight?” I asked. “Are we going to the airport?”
“You can,” Maggie said. “I mean, I’ll just wait here.”
“By the radio?”
Maggie smiled. She shrugged her shoulders.
“Fine. Then I might be going out.”
“Going out where?”
“I don’t know. I’m in the mood to dance.”
“You can’t dance,” Maggie said.
“Says who?”
“Seriously? Says everyone. You have no rhythm…”
I squinted my eyes at Maggie.
Ask Logan if I have rhythm, I thought and smiled.
“I’m going to Rogee’s,” I said.
Maggie’s eyes widened. “Why?”
“To dance,” I said.
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yup.”
I turned to walk away and felt Maggie’s hand clamp on my shoulder. I looked back at her and we both smiled at the same time.
We nodded and knew if we both said it at the same time, then we wouldn’t have leaked the supposed secret to each other. I counted to three and we both shouted at the same time: “DownCrash show!”
The rest of the day we waited. We waited for the texts when DownCrash landed, we waited for the texts when they went to the studio, and then Logan sent a picture of the band to me, the three of them standing in a huge room with instruments everywhere. The looks on their faces were priceless, definitely the kind of picture that people would look at in twenty years and appreciate. They were bad boy rockstars, but they still had a glimmer of innocence in their eyes. The music brought them together, saved them in their own ways, and now it was time for them to reach out to the world, like they all seemed to reach out to me, Maggie, and Scarlett.
When it came time for the radio interview, Maggie and I huddled around her phone as we listened to a radio app. A rock song came to an end and the interview began…
“Hey, yo, kids and squids, it’s Mr. Mighty Mikey here, and I’ve got a special treat in my studio. You’ve heard them, you’ve seen them, and if you haven’t, I ask one question… what the hell? That’s right, the boys of DownCrash are in studio. We’ve got… Tripp…”
Tripp’s voice came over the radio. “Hey.”
“We’ve got… Tatum…”
“What’s up?” Tatum said, his deep voice sounded deeper.
“And finally, not to be forgotten, the quiet, calm, shy, don’t turn your back on him, Logan…”
“Yeah,” Logan said.
I shivered at the sound of his voice.
Mr. Mighty Mikey asked the basic questions. He asked about playing shows. Writing music. He asked about the management thing, about being in LA, about recording. He asked about the upcoming demo, the potential of being signed, and a hopeful record deal. He teased the guys and they teased back. Anyone listening would never guess these were three guys in their early twenties who weren’t giant rockstars yet.
Then came the songs. They sounded so amazing over the radio. This was professional, this was serious.
After the songs were done, Maggie and I looked at each other. We both realized at the same time the second they said something about a free show, the entire town would go into a frenzy. She grabbed her phone and I grabbed my keys. We were out the apartment a minute later as Tripp announced the free show at Rogee’s.
“Wait a minute?” Mr. Mighty Mikey said. “You guys are playing a free show? How the hell are you going to make any money?”
“This isn’t about money,” Logan’s voice said. “It’s about music. About those moments that change our lives… together.”
It was like Logan was speaking to me instead of the listening audience. I swallowed hard as I backed up my car.
“And we want to get signed to a label,” Tatum said.
“Then we can make money,” Tripp said and laughed.
“Well, there you have it,” Mr. Mighty Mikey said. “The boys of DownCrash are going to be darting out of my studio and into your heads, folks. A free show. Did you all hear that? There’s no reason you shouldn’t be there. It’s free!”
We turned the radio off on Maggie’s phone and tuned in on the radio in the car. I drove as fast as I could. The tension in the car was intense and I could only imagine what it must have been like for the guys. To have such a whirlwind day. To wake up in LA. To fly home. To go to the studio. To go to a radio station. Now top the day and night off with a free concert for the hungry DownCrash fans.
Mr. Mighty Mikey played the DownCrash songs one more time. I had chills running through my body. My stomach did flips and turns, making me feel like I was sick.
When we got to Rogee’s, it was packed already. Cars were everywhere. People lined up at the doors. Everyone was trying to figure out where to go, what to do, and how to do it. I parked at the back of the building and saw a fancy black car. The back door opened and I hoped more than anything it was DownCrash.
It wasn’t.
It was Jason.
A security guard in a bright yellow shirt started to walk to my car. I hurried and got out and yelled for Jason, waving like a fool.
“Hey!” the security guard yelled. “You can’t park here!”
“Yes she can,” Jason said.
He hurried over to Maggie and me, shaking our hands. He looked at the security guard, matching him in buff size.
“These are the ladies of DownCrash,” Jason said. “They park where they want.”
I looked at Maggie and suddenly thought about Scarlett. Maggie had her phone at her ear. She mouthed Scarlett to me. I hoped we hadn’t forgotten about her. She was just sometimes in her own little world.
“Hey, Annie, come talk to me for a second,” Jason said.
I stepped away from my car and he put his arm around me.
“Can I see Logan?”
“Actually, no. Nobody can see them until the show.”
“But I’m not just somebody, right?”
“Of course not,” Jason said. “But let’s skip that part of things… talk to me about writing.”
“Writing? What do you mean?”
“Logan showed me the stuff you sent him.”
My face went pale. “He… what?”
“That’s pretty good stuff,” Jason said. “Sometimes cheesy, but it’s visual as hell.”
“Okay…”
“Why don’t you write for the band? Not lyrics, but something we can put on the album artwork, the staging setup, that kind of stuff.”
“Write about what?”
“The band,” Jason said. “You can be their touring writer, if that’s what you want to call it. Write about everything you see and experience. There’s money in it. We’ll pay you.”
“I’m not looking to make money,” I said.
I was floored.
Jason read that stuff I wrote and liked it?
“Think about it. I just think it would look pretty cool to have a DownCrash backdrop for the stage set and have their name with your writing everywhere else on it.”
I wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. I had done all that as a fun way to do something for Logan. Now I was being offered a job with DownCrash? Or with Jason?
“Just something to think about,” Jason said. “Listen, I’ve got to get in there. One hour until the shows starts, okay? You and the other one over there linger for a few and then come in and head to the side stage. No looking for them.”
“Why?” I asked. “Did you do something to them?”
Jason laughed.
But I was serious.
I began to worry something had happened. Did Jason make Logan get something pierced? Tattooed? Did he change their look?
Jason took a phone call and walked away.
I turned and Maggie stood right there.
“What was that about?” she asked.
“I don’t know. We can’t see the band until the show.”
“Wait, what?”
“Yeah, that was my reaction too.”
“Well, Scarlett is on her way here,” Maggie said. “So we have to wait outside anyway for her. I told her where to go.”
So Maggie and I waited for what seemed like forever, but that was expected I guess. Scarlett got there just in time for us to rush into the back of Rogee’s and we were escorted by two security guards to a reserved spot. This was the most official DownCrash show to date. The stage was set with a large cloth backdrop with the band’s name on it. The second I saw it, I pictured my writing all around it. It would be pretty cool to see, right?
The crowd was massive, even more anxious than the first show I saw. Maybe because it was free. Maybe because it was so sudden. Maybe because nobody had tickets and it was kind of like fight for yourself. I don’t know, but the place swelled with energy.
And then the lights went off.
Every single light in the place.
The crowd cheered and slowly people started turning on their cell phone screens for light. It looked like random shaped stars hovering off the ground. All of them moving. All of them waiting for the show to start.
In the pitch black darkness, DownCrash played a trick on the audience. They snuck on stage without a single person seeing. I don’t know how they did, but when a single light turned on, showing the three of them standing with their backs touching, I thought Rogee’s was going to literally explode. There were people on all three levels screaming, chanting for DownCrash.
I was in awe, clutching at my chest to prove I was still alive and breathing. I felt like I was at a major concert. And to be so close. Logan stood just twenty feet away from me, looking at me. It was the first time I saw him since that night at the restaurant. The night he saved me from Jared and Chloe. The night we fucked in the private room. The night I really, really started to fall for him. I reached out for him but he just stood, staring and smiling. He was in his rock n’ roll glory and I felt like I was in a wet dream.
Tripp stepped forward and screamed, “WHAT’S HAPPENING?”
The crowd responded as expected and Tatum moved to the drums. Logan hurried to get his bass, and Tripp grabbed his guitar. At the last second, Logan stutter stepped my way and we held hands for a brief second. Our fingers locked and he looked at me.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he called to me and then was gone.
Gone to the stage. To his fans. To his band. To play the show that would probably change his life forever.
15
It was an intense next month. Yes, a full month. Everyday it seemed the guys were recording, playing, interviewing, practicing, doing anything they could to prepare to get into the studio and make a demo that would get them signed. They spent most of the practices just together, meaning none of us were allowed in the garage. I seemed to be the only who understood why, maybe because Logan explained it to me when we were both naked in my bed. His fingers caressing my skin, his lips fluttering against my shoulder. I would have gone along with anything during those moments, but he explained it like a musician.
It’s just us… you know? The band. The three of us. We need to get that perfected. Jason already mentioned adding a fourth person a couple times. Someone to hire for backup and shit. I don’t want to record something that takes a team to do, you know? I want people to hear the real sound. I don’t want to go on tour with a list of employees… I want to go on tour with DownCrash. Us. Playing. Just us…
I had nothing against it.
I missed Logan like hell, but when he had a second of free time, he called me or came over. The sex only got better, faster, more intense, and took me to places I never thought possible. I had been working tons of extra hours too, giving me the chance to actually save money. Nobody knew about it, but I planned on following Logan everywhere. Maybe it was implied or Maggie and everyone would think of it as a cute puppy dog love thing, but I was serious. I was going to quit my job, move out of the apartment, and be with Logan. Wherever DownCrash went, I’d go too.
I waited in my room just before ten. Maggie had stayed late at work and then went out to a movie with Scarlett. I had no interest. I wanted to be by myself. My grandfather had gotten his final test results back and he was officially cancer free. That didn’t mean he’d have a completely healthy life, but it certainly meant no more chemo and a chance to regain some normalcy. The news came to me with intense emotion. Somewhere in my mind I had just figured he’d be taken by the cancer. But he wasn’t. And he wouldn’t be. It shocked me, scared me, and had me feeling so hopeful for everything else around me.
Between that and feeling like I was getting sick kept me in the apartment for the night. All morning and afternoon my head had been killing me and I had a stomach ache. I wanted to blame the food we ate the night before but nobody else got sick. I chalked it up to being run down… working so much, forcing myself to stay up to talk to Logan, finding any way to see him. It had been a rough month.
When the apartment door opened, Logan lifted a six pack of beer and smiled as I met him near the dining room area.
“Not for me,” I said. “My stomach has been bothering me all day.”
“It’s a six pack,” Logan said. “Of course it’s just for me.”
“Ass.”
He put the beer in the fridge and then hugged me. He lifted me off my feet and I inhaled his smell. There was nothing like smelling him after band practice. It sounded so corny but whatever. It was so sexy to smell him like that. The last little hints of his soap. The sweaty smell of cologne. A little residual of the garage itself, that damp, musty scent.
“How was it?” I asked.
“We’re good to go,” Logan said. “We promised to take a few days off, which is good because Jason booked us like three shows or something. Then we go to the studio.”
“Oh wow,” I said. “This is happening… like… Logan…”
“Oh, it’s happening,” he said. He then took my left hand and touched his chest with it. I could feel his heart beating - no, racing. “So’s this… us…”
I nodded.
It was intense staring at Logan.
I felt like I was on a tightrope, walking a small wire, knowing I was going to fall but wanting to hold on as long as possible. I don’t know why, but I always seemed to hold on. Maybe because I knew falling completely in love with Logan would only make the pain of him leaving worse.
I mean, if he left.
But being in love didn’t mean being together forever.
That part of it scared me.
What happened with Jared hurt because of the background noise. If something ever happened with Logan, I’d die.
I swear, I’d die.
“What are you thinking right now?” he asked me.
“You don’t want to know,” I whispered.
“Come on, tell me. Right now, what’s on your mind.”
“I…” I swallowed and my stomach gurgled for a second. I exhaled and wanted to say it. But I couldn’t.
“Please, Annie,” Logan said. “You don’t have to be afraid of anything. With me. With life.”
“Logan, I think I love you,” I said.
It came out and my stomach flipped again. It was a butterfly feeling kind of flip, a good feeling, at first.
Logan smiled and touched my face. His lips looked like they were shaking, his face burning like he was afraid.
He’s going to say it back…
That’s what my mind kept telling me over and over.
“Annie… I…”
“I’m going to be sick,” I cried out.
&nb
sp; My stomach rumbled like a rake was inside it. I broke from Logan and ran. There was no stopping what was about to happen. I tried to close the bathroom door but freaking Maggie had a towel hanging from the top of it. The door hit and opened right back up. I fell to my knees and opened the toilet just in time… and just as Logan came to the doorway to check on me…
My stomach unleashed itself.
Everything from that day came up.
And then some.
My stomach was empty, but it wouldn’t stop. I kept heaving and my body started to ache from forcing itself to keep vomiting. And the entire time, Logan stood in the doorway. I tried waving him off but he wouldn’t move. When I finally stopped, I spit into the toilet, flushed it, and began to cry.
I hate puking.
I hate it with a passion.
I’d rather have my period for two weeks straight than puke ever in my life.
Logan came into the bathroom then.
“Annie…”
“No,” I said. “Don’t look at me right now.”
“It’s okay,” Logan said. “I’ve seen plenty of people puke. Christ, between Tripp and Tatum alone…”
I laughed as a tear fell down my cheek.
Logan walked to the tub and found a washcloth. He handed it to me and I wiped my face then mouth. He crouched down next to me and rubbed my back.
“Does anything hurt?” he asked.
“My pride maybe. I hate puking. And in front of you…”
“Stop it,” he said. “I’m serious though. Does your stomach hurt?”
“No. I feel sort of better. I’m kind of dizzy though.”
“Okay. Let me get you to your bed. Probably just a stomach bug.”
“I can do it,” I said.
“I know,” Logan said.
But his hands were still on me. He helped me up and I was so embarrassed. I was afraid I stunk like puke or looked like death because of puking. Did I mention how much I hate puking?
I got to my room and sat on the bed. I touched my stomach and swallowed. It gurgled a little. This time it was more of a hungry gurgle than a throw up gurgle. And that’s all I needed, right? My stomach just emptied itself and now my body wanted me to be hungry?
What the hell?
Logan touched my back again and sat next to me.
“How do you feel now?”