Night Shifts Black

by Alyson Santos

  I grin. “It can’t be both?”

  “You’re acting like my mom again,” he warns, and I shrug.

  “Good. You need it. Vitamins, Casey. You need vitamins.”

  “There are vitamins in fries.”

  “What would TJ say?”

  Casey almost drops his fork and laughs. “TJ…don’t remind me. Please.”

  “What? You know I’m right.”

  “Right about what?”

  Casey and I glance over at Luke who does his magical appearing act at the presence of food. He grabs the extra salad and joins us at the table. We went formal for lunch.

  “TJ would want you to consume a well-balanced meal,” I explain, and Luke glances at Casey in surprised amusement.

  “TJ Barringer?”

  Casey nods and rolls his eyes.

  Luke laughs. “How does she know TJ?”

  “I don’t,” I defend. “Only by reputation.”

  “Oh, really? Interesting,” Luke responds.

  “She was with me when TJ called about the new tracks.”

  Luke seems to understand and starts on his salad.

  “Not to mention you guys talk about him. I remember stuff.”

  “Don’t we know it,” Casey mumbles, and Luke smirks.

  “Heard you kids working again,” Luke comments, surprising both of us.

  Casey nods. “Yeah, Callie has a lot of good ideas.”

  “Oh, please,” I scoff. “I sit there and offer moral support while you work your magic.”

  Casey gives me a mock glare. “Those aren’t my lyrics.”

  “They’re not lyrics, they’re verses. It’s a poem.”

  “Not anymore,” Luke counters, and I turn on him.

  “Wait, whose side are you on anyway?”

  Luke shrugs. “Sorry, hon, but poetry set to music is called a ‘song.’”

  I roll my eyes, but my grin breaks when his does. “Fine, whatever.”

  “Accept it, Callie. You’re a songwriter now,” Casey echoes.

  My eyes widen. “No, I’m not. Wait. Really? But…”

  He just shrugs and gives me that smile that always seems to calm me and excite me at the same time.

  “I’m having trouble with the hook into the chorus, though,” Casey continues, back to business, and I can see that means more to Luke than it does to me.

  Luke nods. “Let’s hear it.”

  I’m sure Casey is as startled as I am at the request, but he does a better job hiding it.

  “Ok, yeah, sure.” He pushes back from the table and retrieves the guitar.

  Luke continues eating but watches Casey intently as he plays through what we have of our mirror song. I can see the music working its way through Luke’s head as he listens, concentrating, evaluating.

  Casey finishes, and I sense this moment means more to him than I can possibly understand. He rests the guitar on his lap and pretends to pick at a scratch, but I’m pretty sure he’s just distracting himself as he waits for the verdict.

  After a long silence, Luke nods. “It’s good, Case. Really good. I see what you mean about the hook, though. Try throwing the F# minor in after the A and add an extra two beats to the break.”

  Casey’s eyes light up. “You mean, bring the chorus back in late on the offbeat?”

  Luke nods. “Exactly. Plus, the minor at the end of the bridge will give it a bigger cut. Hanging on the 4 was fine, but I think the 2 will give you more depth.” His gaze turns serious as he studies his friend. “Case, the chorus is killer. Really, really good.”

  I can’t help but smile at the look on Casey’s face, the pure relief and joy. The moment is so beautiful, I’m almost annoyed that Luke ruins it by drawing me in. I hate taking anything away from them.

  “You, too, Callie. I know those are your words.”

  “Mostly. Casey changed them around a bit and added some.”

  Luke shrugs. “Yeah, but you understand that’s not because there was anything wrong with the original. They just have to flow with the music. It’s all a give and take in the process.”

  I nod and smile. “Of course. He made it better, there’s no question.”

  Then, suddenly, Luke’s eyes change, and I see something there I’ve never seen before. A light, a spark. I’ve seen it in Casey many times now, but never Luke.

  Surprised, I can only watch as he turns back to Casey and asks for the guitar. Casey is just as shocked and hands it to him, almost reverently.

  Luke pushes back his chair and examines the instrument in his hands for a moment. Casey and I watch in awe as he holds it, his fingers touching the strings like they might break if he applies any pressure. I can’t even begin to guess what’s going through his mind, or Casey’s for that matter, but I’m so happy I feel ready to explode.

  Finally, Luke seems able to accept the fact that he’s holding a guitar again and begins picking out a string of notes that flows into a seamless melody. It’s beautiful. I don’t know much about music, but I know whatever this is would sound perfect with what Casey just played. Casey seems to understand the significance of that even more than I do.

  “Sweeny’s lick,” Casey murmurs, and Luke nods, raising his eyes to meet Casey’s.

  “For the bridge. I think we just layer rhythm for the chorus. Maybe some killer reverb on the ‘hello’ vocal?”

  Casey nods. “Definitely. I was thinking even a tight band-pass filter on the second line.”

  Luke considers that and shrugs. “Yeah, that could work too. I’m hearing it.”

  They continue like that for a few minutes, and my jaw is on the floor. They’re too wrapped up to notice.

  I think I’m the only one who heard Luke use the word “we.”

  ∞∞∞

  “How easy do you think it would be to get into Jackson Street tomorrow?” Casey asks once they finally seem content with whatever they’d just created in their heads. “I know we haven’t used them in a while, but Julian’s a pro.”

  Luke shrugs. “I don’t know. TJ might be able to get you in. You want to lay some of this down?”

  It’s Casey’s turn to shrug. “Thinking about it. Why not? It’s out there now. Might as well see what it sounds like. Wish we were home and could just use our own stuff, but Jackson Street is cool. Julian has gear we can use, right?”

  Luke nods. “Probably. He’s got his studio guys, too, if you want to mess around. You might need to give him a heads up though so he can get them in. Send TJ a work tape. He’ll lose his mind.”

  Casey nods, and I can see something change in his expression. He’s going to ask. I know it. We all know it.

  Luke swallows and shakes his head. At least he’s not angry this time. Sad, more than anything. I can see it hurts him to keep letting Casey down. I can see how much he loves him.

  “I can’t, man. You know that. I just…” He stops and draws in a deep breath. “You’ve got my support on this.”

  Casey deflates, and my heart breaks at his disappointment. “Yeah, no, of course,” he says with a weak smile. “It would have been…no, yeah.” He lets out a dry laugh, but there’s no humor in it.

  “Good luck, though. I think you have something,” Luke offers as consolation. He clasps his friend’s shoulder as he passes, and I watch Casey try to put himself back together.

  I’m not sure what to say when we’re alone. I don’t want to embarrass him, but it also kills me to watch the previous joy siphoned out of him. Hope can be a devastating thing, and when it comes to Luke, it often proves to be even more treacherous.

  “I should go call TJ and see if he can set something up.,” Casey mutters. I’m not even sure he’s talking to me.

  “Casey…”

  He pushes up from the table and waves me off. “It’s fine. Not a big deal.” But he’s lying, and we both know it. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he says, pulling out his phone.

  Alone again, I sigh and study the empty lunch dishes in frustration.

  ∞∞∞
r />   When it rains it pours. TJ isn’t able to get Casey into the studio until Friday, which is four days later than he wanted. The setback also gives me the opportunity to watch Casey sulk for the first time. Luke’s rejection, coupled with his frustrated creativity, is apparently more than he can handle at once, and after two hours of watching them pout alone in silence, I finally get sick of both of them.

  Casey doesn’t seem as upset as I would have hoped when I tell him I’m going back to my place for a bit. I need to check in on my own life, as well as collect some more supplies. Maybe even do laundry. He does little more than shrug and tell me he’ll let me know if anything comes up. I’m hurt, but I get it, and give him the space he seems to so desperately want.

  It would have been funny, if it hadn’t been so depressing, that it’s literally pouring when I emerge from the hotel and flag a cab to return home. I’d gotten lost in that little bubble of Suite 403, and if it hadn’t been for Casey sending me home to get my laptop, I realize I wouldn’t have experienced fresh air in days. I cringe when I consider that’s Luke’s life now. At least when he had Jemma’s, he had some interaction with the world. I decide my next goal has to be getting him out of his room.

  It’s almost strange being back in my apartment. So much has changed in the last few days, I’ve changed, and it almost doesn’t feel like home anymore. Not that Luke’s place does either. Maybe it’s that I’ve realized I don’t really have a home, just places I live. Is that how Luke and Casey feel? Always moving, never belonging. What’s changed is that the thought doesn’t totally make me sad anymore. It’s hard to feel lonely when I’ve just spent days filling myself to the brink with two incredible people. I’m almost exhausted from it, and yet, I find myself missing them already. It’s absurd, I know. I’d been so eager for air and space, and now I keep checking my phone in hopes of closing the gap again.

  I set to work, mostly to distract myself, and begin tidying up a bit, collecting my dirty clothes, and shoving a fresh supply of travel necessities into a bag for when I return to the suite. There were several items I’d wished I’d had over the last couple days, and I run a mental checklist as I survey my apartment. When I get to my bed, I stop with a sigh, realizing I should probably stay here for the night. I can’t actually live in Suite 403, right? Crashing there on occasion is fine, but…

  Yeah, I’m staying here. It’s settled. I’ll give Casey his space, Luke his privacy. Maybe even give them time alone to repair and explore what they can’t when I’m there. And goodness knows there’s plenty for them to repair and explore.

  My phone buzzes and I glance down in anticipation, instinctively grinning at Casey’s name. I read his message, a quick apology followed by a silly grin, and know he couldn’t have said anything more perfect. It’s him in all his glory, and I write back that I’m not upset, just taking care of some stuff here before I go back. I’ll see him tomorrow.

  My phone rings a second later, and I shake my head with a smile.

  “Tomorrow?” he asks, clearly not happy.

  “Yeah, I thought you guys should have some time alone. Like I said, I have a lot to take care of here,” I lie. He’s still quiet, and I glance at the clock. “Besides, it’s already three. You guys have been great, but I’m not going to take advantage of your hospitality.”

  I can feel his scoff through the phone. “Yeah, because that’s what this is. Us being nice,” he mutters.

  “That’s not what I mean. I miss you already, it’s just… I don’t know. It would be weird for me to be there all the time. Remember how freaked out you were when you thought I had moved in?”

  He’s quiet again, and I wish I could see his face to read his silence. “No, I get it. If that’s what you want. Ok, well, I should get going. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Casey…” I don’t want to part with him upset.

  “What? I said I get it.”

  “I don’t think you do.”

  “I’m not going to beg you to come back,” he snaps, and my stomach drops. He hasn’t spoken to me like that since we’d become friends. It’s my first reminder that he’s human, too. Maybe even slightly more entitled than I want him to be.

  Even the perfect ones can’t be perfect all the time.

  “Come on, I would never expect you to. You know that. I’m amazed you even talk to me at all.”

  He’s quiet again. I can hear his sigh through the phone. “Callie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s been…I don’t know…it’s been a weird day. I know I was acting like an idiot when you left. I know why you did, but I regretted it as soon as you were gone. It’s better when you’re here. I don’t know why, it just is.”

  I take a deep breath, feeling better for a dozen reasons.

  “Thanks, Casey. That means a lot. I miss you, too. I’ll be back first thing tomorrow, ok? I really need to do laundry and pay some bills and stuff.” I pause. “Just do me a favor and take advantage of this time alone. Try to talk to Luke, ok? You both love each other and are so important to each other.”

  “I can’t do it on my own, Callie. I told you how hard I tried. It’s not up to me.”

  “No, but Luke isn’t the same person he was the last time you tried.”

  More silence. I’ve given him a lot to think about and am starting to feel good about my decision to separate again. Maybe he’s becoming too important to me, too. A little space will do us both some good.

  “Good night, Casey.”

  “Good night, Callie. Bring breakfast with you tomorrow.”

  I’m not sure if he’s joking or not, but at least the smile is back in his voice.

  ∞∞∞

  I purchase four new albums after I hang up and download them to my phone. I pop in my headphones and, thirty seconds into the first song, abandon all plans of being productive.

  I don’t know what I expected. Maybe it’s because they’ve always been just Luke and Casey to me. My friends whom I miss and can’t wait to get back to after our spontaneous recess. In the bubble world of Luke’s suite, their music was that hesitant strumming on an old beat-up guitar. That was Night Shifts Black. But I was so wrong.

  I’d forgotten they are also Luke Craven and Casey Barrett, rock superstars with the awards to prove it, and I actually feel stupid as the saturated music invades my ears. I’m particularly horrified that I let them see my own “art” and even thought for a second I could be in their league. I don’t know why Casey is pretending to work with my verses, but the thought that I had even offered to “help” him write music would make me laugh if not for the fact that it’s so humiliating.

  I’d heard of Night Shifts Black, of course I had, but I hadn’t even realized half these songs were theirs. Luke’s celebrity appeal probably made them more popular in the mainstream than their style of music otherwise would have invited, but it definitely resonates with me, and I love every second of it. Luke’s voice is powerful, beautiful and haunting at the same time. I listen closely to the percussion, blown away by Casey’s skill. To think they constructed these songs, created this mastery from nothing. To think that my silly mirror poem might sound like this in their heads.

  I can’t help myself. I pick up my phone again and find Casey’s number. I begin typing.

  “Listening to your stuff now.”

  “Yeah? What do you think?”

  “That I can’t believe you even spent two seconds on my stupid poems.”

  “Haha i love your poems”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you guys were so good?”

  “I tried. You wouldn’t listen.”

  I actually do laugh out loud at that one. He has a point, and I’m so filled with awe, honored that someone who could create masterpieces like this would have the patience for my own bumbling attempts at expression. After our previous spat, I can’t possibly return to him right now, but I want to. So badly.

  “It’s incredible, Casey. Really. I wish I had listened sooner. You guys are legit.”

  �
�Thanks. Wait until you hear what I’m thinking for your song.”

  “I don’t know if I can wait after hearing this. Is it Friday yet?”

  “I wish. Hey, it’s weird here. Hurry back.”

  “Not going well with Luke?”

  “Does Watching TV together in awkward silence count?”

  “Are you fighting?”

  “No.”

  “Then sure.”

  “haha”

  “You and I spent hours watching TV in awkward silence. Were you texting someone to rescue you then?”

  “It was only awkward because I was trying to figure out the best way to get a kiss. Not the same with Luke.”

  My heart pounds and I have to force air into my lungs.

  “Really? You didn’t try very hard.”

  “You seemed really into Dead Head. I can’t compete with zombies.”

  I grin. I know he is.

  “You know, I’m really enjoying all the pictures of you on the internet. Do they not let you wear clothes in the photo shoots? Is that a contract thing or something?”

  “Funny. You’re the first to complain.”

  “Not complaining. Just wondering why drummers and lead singers can’t afford anything but undershirts.”

  A photo pops up, and I laugh. It’s Casey at some formal event with a tux, tie, and signature goofy smile. His tie is loose of course, top button open, hair messy, but he looks amazing.

  “Hmm…not sure if I like you better with or without clothing.”

  “Come back over and we can figure it out.”

  My blood pounds.

  “Tempted. But nope. We’re still on break. Hey, did you know there’s an actual movement called ‘Team Casey’?”

  “hahaha You should see the t-shirts and hats. They’re not bad actually. I give Jessica M. props.”

  “Jessica M?”

  “The founder of ‘Team Casey.’ Cool girl actually.”