Travis Starnes
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Elegy - Chapter 14
🕑 Added 2023-06-17 07:27:49 +0000 UTCIt took hours to clear up the scene at the concert. I’d offered to go with Warren to the hospital, but he told us to just go back to the hotel, or Hanna’s aunt’s house in Kat’s and my case, and he’d call me later. Once the initial shock had worn off, he’d been amazingly calm and collected for the level of pain he was in.
The building was a total loss. By the time the fire department got it under control, half the ceiling had collapsed. It wouldn’t surprise me if they had to tear the whole thing down. One thing was for sure, our instruments were gone. They wouldn’t let us go in to look for them, but a firefighter I asked to check, said the stage was where the fire had gotten the hottest, and everything near it was a twisted wreck.
I loved my guitar. Even though it was from my dad, it was the one I’d learned to play on. I’d spent hundreds of hours with it, to the point where it almost felt like an extension of my own body. What I had told Marco, however, was true. It was just a thing. With the exception of Warren’s leg, we had gotten all of our people out safely, and that’s what mattered. We also managed to get the entire crowd out. There were dozens of injuries, including what looked like several bad burns, but no one died. Disasters like this always made headlines, and in most of the articles I’d seen about things like this, people lost their lives. On that account, at least, we’d been amazingly lucky.
Marco was freaking out about his instrument, which I guess was reasonable, although I was still pissed he’d tried to save it instead of people. I told the band I’d start working on getting our instruments replaced in the morning. While I was a little sad about my guitar, I wasn’t actually all that worried about it. I knew the venue had to have insurance, although once this was all done the odds of the owners not being bankrupt were small. Thankfully, I also knew the label had their own insurance for our shows and we hadn’t been at fault for this, so I was fairly confident we could get everything replaced.
The next morning we decided to go ahead and meet for breakfast as planned, before Kat and I had to head back home. Hanna picked out a diner near her dorm and was already at a booth when we got there.
Kat and I slid into the booth across from Hanna, who still looked a mess, with dark circles under her red-rimmed eyes.
“Thanks for meeting me,” Hanna said, giving a weak smile. “I’m a wreck. I was a mess all night and got almost no sleep. I just didn’t want to be alone.”
“Of course.” Kat reached over, giving her hand a squeeze.
Hanna’s smile wavered. She blinked back tears, dropping her gaze to the table.
“I keep replaying it all in my head. The fire, the smoke, the panic. If you hadn’t found us, Charlie …” her voice broke, “I don’t even want to think about what might have happened.”
“But I did find you,” I said gently. “You’re safe now, and that’s what matters.”
Hanna looked up, sniffling. “I know. I just feel so … shaken. And the merch, everything we worked for …”
“We’ll figure something out,” I said, switching spots to come around and sit next to her, putting my arm over her shoulder and holding her tightly. “The important stuff survived. We’re all alive, mostly uninjured, and safe. Everything else can be replaced. Besides, the instruments and the merch should be covered under insurance. It’ll take some time, but we’ll get it all replaced. This is just a bump in the road, trust me.”
I think that’s all she needed to hear. She returned my hug, and I could feel some of her tension easing away. We spent the next few minutes talking and laughing together, the heaviness starting to lift. As the waitress headed off with our orders, the bell over the door chimed. I glanced up, my smile fading when I spotted Troy heading towards us.
Troy strolled up to us like he didn’t have a care in the world. Like he owned the place. He knew we were here, so he had to have talked to Hanna since last night, but he didn’t seem to have any empathy for how much she’d clearly been struggling when we’d first gotten here. It was another strike against him. His gaze landed on Kat, a sly smile curling his lips. I wanted to knock the stupid expression off his face.
“Hope I’m not too late for breakfast,” Troy said cheerfully, sliding into the empty seat beside Kat.
I offered her a tight smile, turning to Troy. “We weren’t expecting you. We already ordered.”
Troy ignored me, attention focused solely on Kat. “You look lovely today. Did you do something different with your hair?”
Kat stiffened as he invaded her personal space. “You’re joking.”
“Didn’t you hear what happened last night?” I asked, exasperated.
“Hanna said you all made it out okay. What’s the big deal?” he said without actually looking at me, his attention still on Kat. “Hmm, maybe it’s just the lighting in here. Brings out your eyes.”
Troy leaned closer, his arm brushing against Kat’s. She edged away, discomfort written across her face. What was with this guy? His girlfriend had just been in a terrible accident and was clearly upset, and he’s hitting on Kat. In fact, he’d hit on Kat every time he’d been around her, including the first time he met her before Christmas when he’d come back to Wellsville with Hanna. He was like some evil cartoon character, or maybe just an idiot who thought more with his junk than his brain.
“So Kat, I was thinking we haven’t really had a chance to get to know each other properly yet.” Troy lowered his voice, the innuendo clear. “We haven’t talked since that conversation in your little town. I thought we were going to be friends.”
“I don’t think so,” Kat said sharply.
“Come on, that’s no fun. I heard a few things about you when we were there. I know you like having friends.”
I hadn’t realized he and Hanna had gone out or seen anyone else in town when they’d been there, but if he’d heard rumors about Kat’s former behavior, all caused by her abuse and DPD, then it explained how brazen and relentless he was being. It still made him a dirtbag, though.
“Playing hard to get? I like a challenge.”
I didn’t see what he did next, but his hand dropped off the table and it looked like he reached over for Kat.
Kat gasped, shoving him. “Get off me!”
I slammed my fist on the table. “That’s enough. Time for you to leave, Troy.”
Troy blinked at me in disbelief. “Come on, we were just joking around. No need to get upset.”
“It didn’t look like a joke to me. You can either get up and walk out of here, or you can be carried out. It’s your choice,” I said, my tone low and menacing.
I might have been trying to turn over a new leaf, using less violence and more de-escalation, but this wasn’t the situation for that. He’d crossed a line.
“What the fuck are you going to do,” he said, looking at me contemptuously.
Hanna grabbed Troy’s arm, panic flitting across her features. “Troy, just go. Please.”
Troy scowled, standing up so fast he knocked over several of the condiments. “Fine, have it your way. But this isn’t over.”
He pointed at me, trying to be intimidating, and stormed out, the diner bell clanging behind him.
The atmosphere was tense. Kat was silently fuming, stabbing at her pancakes, her jaws clenched tight. Hanna watched Troy get into his car and tear out of the parking lot, not even seeming to notice how furious Kat was, which was making Kat even more angry with every second that passed.
I’d hoped Hanna would apologize or at least acknowledge what happened to de-escalate the situation before Kat blew up.
Too late.
“What is wrong with you?” Kat burst out. “How can you not see what a creep he is?”
Hanna blinked, taken aback. “I know Troy can sometimes come across as a bit crass, but he’s trying to change. You just keep overreacting, blowing everything out of proportion.”
“Overreacting?” Kat slammed her fork down. “He had his hand on my thigh! How is that an overreaction?”
“It was just a joke. You always misread these situations and assume the worst. I know your condition makes you …”
“No,” I said, stopping her mid-sentence. “That’s not right or fair to Kat. Troy was way out of line, and you know it.”
“Don’t gang up on me,” Hanna said, now getting angry herself. “Nobody’s perfect, but we still try and accept them. Did I bust your balls when you were dating Rhonda and she was a jerk to everyone? Troy loves me. Yes, he takes some getting used to, but if you were my friends, you’d put in the effort.”
Kat threw up her hands. “You have got to be joking? Constantly hitting on other girls, including your friends, in front of you no less! When will you wake up and realize you deserve better?”
“Troy makes me feel special. You’re not the only one who’s been through things and needs help. Some of us have needs too. I’m sorry if for five minutes it’s not the Kat show, with everyone babying you, but you aren’t the only person here,” Hanna yelled.
Heads were turning towards us from across the diner, and the employees were exchanging looks. It would probably only be a few minutes before we got kicked out.
Kat didn’t seem to even notice, her volume matching Hanna’s. “I don’t make everything about me. How would you even know? You haven’t been around this year and when you did come home, you brought Troy. You brought Troy to Charlotte. Troy’s been around this weekend. He’s always with you.”
“That’s because he loves me. Why can’t you accept that?”
“Guys, we should …” I started to say, trying to get them to calm down.
“He doesn’t love you, he loves controlling you. He’s manipulating you!” Kat said, ignoring me. “He doesn’t respect you. You deserve so much better, Hanna.”
Hanna slammed her fist on the table, shouting at the top of her lungs. “Why can’t you just be happy for me? Why do you have to ruin everything?”
I tried to take Hanna’s hand and said, “We’re trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need your protection. I don’t want it. Move!” she said, pushing me to get out of the booth.
Her nostrils were flaring, and her face had turned a dark red. She was going to start freaking out any minute.
As Hanna slid out of the booth and started to storm out, Kat stood in front of her and put her hand on Hanna’s shoulder.
“He’s going to hurt you. We’re just trying to protect you.”
Hanna yanked away so violently that she stumbled slightly.
“You don’t want to protect me. You just want to control me, like everyone else in my life!”
She stormed out of the diner, the little bell dinging violently again behind her. I dropped money on the table to pay for our uneaten food and pulled Kat outside, apologizing to the waitress as we left.
As we drove back home, Kat sat silently in the passenger seat, fuming, knuckles white from clenching her fists. I wasn’t sure if I should speak first or give her space. My instinct was to fill the silence, to say something optimistic to lift her spirits, but I knew Kat well enough to recognize that she needed time to work through her emotions before she’d be open to comfort.
It was almost twenty minutes before she expelled a heavy sigh, her posture deflating, and said, “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You were only trying to help. Hanna will come around, once she’s ready to face the truth,” I said gently.
Shaking her head and blinking back tears, she said, “Will she?”
“Yes. You were right. This all sucks, but you had to say something. There’s no perfect way to handle it, but she won’t forget it. She’ll be pissed, but she’ll think about what you said. Hopefully, it will be enough to get her to see what’s really going on. When she does, the two of them are going to break up, probably badly. She’ll realize you were right and just trying to protect her. She loves you too much to hold a grudge. Have faith in her. She’s struggling, but deep down she knows the truth. She just needs to see it.”
Kat sighed again, wiping her eyes. “You really think so?”
I smiled back. “I know so. You’ve been through too much together to let some jerk like Troy break you apart. This is just another challenge you’ll rise above, stronger and closer than before.”
Kat exhaled, tension easing from her shoulders. She was afraid, and I think she just needed to hear that she’d done the right thing, even though it had all gone so badly. I believed what I said. I had faith that Hanna would come to her senses. We just needed to help her along. She was too precious to give up without a fight.
***
It had been almost a week since the Raleigh disaster, and everything still didn’t feel quite real. I’d been in some fights, some serious enough to land me in the hospital, but that night was the first time I truly feared for my life. I didn’t think I had PTSD or anything, but several nights I’d had trouble getting to sleep, thinking about the fire. Once I didn’t have school or anything else to distract me and my brain was free to wander, it would go back to that night, reminding me of the screams of the crowd, the sight and, worse, the smell of the burning chunks of ceiling falling on a girl a few feet from me. Someone had pulled her out and I’d heard that she’d made it to the hospital, but I could still see the expression on her face. It haunted me.
I’d tried to call Warren, but he was out recovering. He did send me a text that he was on top of things and they were already dealing with the insurance about our instruments and finding out what happened, but things were a little hectic. I’d actually called to find out about how his leg was, but he kept things very business-like.
I’d followed that up with a message to Kent to find out about replacing our instruments and he’d confirmed that they would figure it out and cut us a check to replace them. He did say that it could be weeks or even a few months until that happened, since there was a whole process they had to go through before any money could be handed out, and we should consider replacing them on our own, for now, so we could keep working.
If it would only take a week, we would have waited. Had it just been me and not the band, I would have also waited to get the money before replacing my guitar, but the band had rent to pay so we needed to work. We also still had two very big shows coming up that we needed to keep preparing for. We just couldn’t afford to take that much time off.
We’d gone Wednesday, after I got out of school, to Asheville to replace all of our instruments. It had required us to clear out the band’s bank account, an advance from Chef for the next weekend’s take, and a small loan from Mrs. Philips, but we’d gotten together enough money to do it. None of the equipment was top-of-the-line, but that had also been true of our previous instruments, even Marco’s new keyboard.
I spent the next day just getting used to my new guitar. Even though I’d only had it since Christmas, I’d really been enjoying it. Since the fire, I’d been back to playing on the one Dad had bought it for me when I was seven. It was one of the few good things he’d ever done for me in my life and it did mean something to me, but it had been cheap and, after playing on the one my friends had gotten me, I couldn’t go back to it.
We decided to meet at the band’s house on Friday for an extended practice before we all headed to the Blue Ridge, instead of setting up before the dinner rush and doing only a brief run-through like we normally did. We needed a little time to get everyone’s instruments dialed in since instruments just out of the box could sometimes sound a little off. I think we also needed to practice in a safe environment, away from crowds, to clear our musical palates, as it were, from what happened in Raleigh.
“So, I’ve been thinking about a song since we left Raleigh,” I said as we started to set up.
“Another ballad?” Marco asked, almost sarcastically.
“Not exactly. It’s not ‘One Night Stand’ or ‘The Little Things,’ but it’s still more up-tempo than ‘Country Roads.’ I think it comes off as … I don’t know, haunting isn’t the right word. It’s halfway between sad and hopeful. Or at least that’s what I was going for.”
“What’s it about?” Lyla asked.
“It’s about how when things are bad, you shouldn’t focus on the negative parts, but look for ways to find glimmers of hope and positivity. That if you spend too much time focusing on what happened, you’ll never escape it. You have to look beyond the pain. It’s called ‘Chasing the Rain.’”
I pulled out my guitar and hooked it up to one of the small amps that, thankfully, we hadn’t taken with us and so hadn’t needed to replace it. The intro was very short, which was a first for me, only lasting about twelve seconds. I’d tried to make it sound almost like rain falling, although I don’t know how successful that was, since I wasn’t trying to mimic the sound of rain falling, but instead to evoke the feeling of it.
The verses could use some work, but I was particularly happy with the chorus.
We’re chasing the rain, in the middle of the night,
Finding love in the endless flight.
We’re Chasin’ the Rain … Rain … Rain.
Gonna Catch it Again … ’gain … ’gain.
We’re chasin’ the rain.
We’re chasin’ the rain.
The repeated words worked well with the melody in the middle of the chorus, and I felt it was catchy enough that people, if they ever got to know our music well enough, would really sing along with it. It had this staccato way of being pronounced, almost like an echo, that kind of captivated me.
I finished and looked at my bandmates.
“I love the chorus,” Seth said.
“Yeah, it’s my favorite part too. I think the verses could use a little work. I didn’t really lock in on those as well, and everything except that short thing at the beginning is a little squishy. I haven’t spent much time on it, but I really liked the lyrics.”
“Sounds good,” Marco said, dismissively. “So I was reading on this trade website last night that MAC Records is hosting a benefit show for the Savannah building collapse. It’s going to be a big deal, and I think it’s going to get tons of media coverage. Considering what happened in Raleigh and the fact that Warren set it up, I think the label owes us something. We should call them up and demand they put us in this show. It can be one of the really early spots, I don’t care, but can you imagine what that kind of exposure could do for us?”
I was a little disappointed that he changed the subject from my song since I thought it was pretty good, and we’d already decided we needed more stuff to play live. He’d clearly been waiting for me to show up and a moment where he could bring this up. I doubted he’d even really heard what I’d played. But Marco was Marco, so it shouldn’t be surprising.
“I don’t know, Marco. Doesn’t it seem a bit opportunistic to demand a spot at a benefit show?”
Marco snorted. “Who cares? This is business, Charlie. You need to start thinking about what’s best for the band.”
“I am thinking about the band,” I insisted. “We aren’t big enough with the label to demand anything, and we’re already on thin ice with them. The last thing we need to be doing is giving them more reasons to think we’re difficult.”
“We’re only on thin ice because you couldn’t keep your dad under control. His bullshit almost cost us our contract, or have you forgotten?”
I bristled at the accusation, stung by the unfairness of it. “That wasn’t my fault, and you know it.”
“Doesn’t matter whose fault it was. If the label is losing faith in us, it’s only because of you, and it’s your job to fix it.” Marco jabbed a finger at me. “You owe this to the band after the shit you dragged us through.”
“I don’t owe the band anything, and this isn’t ‘our’ contract, it’s …” I shot back, cutting myself off hastily, but the damage was done.
Marco’s eyes widened in outrage. “What? Your contract? You self-righteous dick. When you came looking for us, you had barely started playing on stages. You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t know how to book gigs, and you didn’t know how to work an audience. If it wasn’t for Seth and me, you’d be playing backup rhythm for Willie at the Blue Ridge! Yeah, they may have put it in your name, but that’s only because you make sure you’re always in the spotlight and treat us like we’re your plus one.”
“Watch it, Marco.”
He didn’t want to or couldn’t hear the tone in my voice, not even bothering to slow down.
“We could be so much further along if you cared even a little bit!” Marco exploded. “We had a chance to tour all fall, and you threw it away. And the constant drama … if you cared about this band at all, you’d be on the phone with the label right now begging for that spot!”
“It’s not just that it would look bad, and it would. Warren set that up for us, at my request. He got hurt at that show, too. If we start making demands based on what happened there, it’s going to blow back on him the most. He’s done right by us! We can’t throw him under the bus now, just because you want fifteen more minutes!”
Marco threw up his hands in disgust. “If you want to throw everything away over your guilt, fine. But don’t expect me to stick around and watch you run this band into the ground.”
Marco stormed out, slamming the door behind him. I sank onto the old couch they’d found and put in the garage for when Lyla’s girlfriend came to watch practice. Putting my head in my hands, I wondered how everything had gone so wrong.
Lyla cleared her throat tentatively and said, “Charlie, I know you want to do the right thing. But Marco has a point too.”
“I’m trying to improve our reputation with the label, which we really need, and this kind of thing will have blowback. Plus, Warren has been good to us. I can’t do that to him.”
She held up her hands defensively. “I like Warren too, but he dropped the ball in Raleigh. We asked for a show and trusted him to handle the details, but he didn’t follow through. That’s on him, not us.”
“Maybe so, but he gave us a chance to back out when we realized something wasn’t right, and we all made the decision to go through with it. We should be trying to earn back their trust, not making unreasonable demands.”
“Asking for a spot at their benefit show is hardly unreasonable. This is what labels are for, to promote their acts. If they get angry over that, then maybe MAC isn’t right for us.”
That gave me pause. Maybe I was being unreasonable, trying so hard to keep from ruffling feathers, I was avoiding everything.
“The label wants a chance to make things right after Raleigh,” she continued. “They have to; otherwise, they wouldn’t have all but guaranteed replacing our instruments. There’s got to be some kind of legal trouble for them if we make a big enough fuss, so right now is when they’re going to be the most reasonable with us. And this could be that chance. We at least owe it to them and ourselves to ask. The worst they can say is no.”
“Or they could say yes because they feel they have to and still hold it against us. Plus, yeah, it’s a big spot for us, but if it does turn out to be the thing that makes us, and then people found out we bullied our way onto a charity show to make it, we’ll get canceled so fast we won’t even have time to box up our stuff before they send us packing.”
“Charlie, I know you worry about stuff a lot, and that can be a good thing. It makes you a lot more strategic than the rest of us. But sometimes you need to just go for it. Marco might be ambitious enough for all of us, but sometimes, that’s exactly what we need.”
I sighed, letting my head fall back. They weren’t wrong. Of course, they hadn’t talked to Kent and Warren about how shaky the label was about us, but if we did everything we could to keep from making waves, we’d also always be a tiny fish in a tiny pond until the day the label decided we weren’t going to get any more traction and let us go. I couldn’t let my pride, thinking I’m always right, force me into the same mistakes as my dad. If they kicked us out, then they did. We’d go and find the next thing.
Comments
Travis Starnes
Yep, you're right. I made an alteration to this chapter.
JG
Didn't charlie get a new guitar for Christmas
Travis Starnes
Glad to hear it. And hey, you are here at the right time at least. Imagine trying to read that many books before we had Kindle unlimited. That's a lot of trips to the library. :)
Phil
Travis, ironically, I looked up the definition of elegy a few hours after making my comment. Now, I understand that you are doing exactly what your title implies. So glad to hear that there is a dawn to look forward to after all this darkness. Thanks! Also, I must say that this is so much fun communicating with an author that takes the time to respond while he is still writing his novel. Since I have retired, I am almost ashamed to admit how many books I have read through Kindle Unlimited (almost 1,400 in the last 4 years). If I finish reading the remaining John Taylor books after this one, I will be caught up with everything you have written, so obviously I enjoy your work.
Travis Starnes
I mean, I called it Elegy, which is a poem of lament and sorry. However, it won't all be bad. Charlie's series long character arc is a variation on the 8 point story arc, and were in stage 5, the darkest night of the soul. Can't have the highs without the lows.
Phil
Gary, I am right there with you! Travis, you need to string a couple of positive chapters together, otherwise this book should be subtitled "Is this blow that crushes Charlie's spirit?" or "The trials and tribulations of Charlie". We are hanging on by our fingernails here.
James Bartling
As to the group dynamics in the band It is a tough situation. Charlie has a unusual personality in that he is very strong willed and yet wants to keep veryone happy. Most strong willed people don't think about other peoples feelings (example Marco). The hardest part of leadership is figuring out how to keep people on board and enthused.
James Bartling
A simple solution for the Troy issue, Since Troy has hit on Kat and Lyla every time he is around and they do not like it, then explain to Hanna that in mutual respect if Troy can not refrain from hitting on them than when they are visiting with Hanna could Troy not be there with them
Gary R. Hovatter
My first thought when I finished this chapter is: Is there anything in Charlie's life that is simply, genuinely . . . good? I've been with this from the beginning and can't imagine not sticking it out. That said, I find I feel equal parts delight and dread when I see a new chapter. It's just so . . . bleak.
