T.R.A.C.K: Debut Single

Chapter 6: Tyr

“And a one-two, a one-two-three-four--”

            We were finally getting somewhere. I allowed myself to be distracted, if only for a moment, and looked around at my bandmates.

            Never let appearances fool you. Ryder might not be winning any humanitarian awards any time soon, but he was still the best damned guitarist I had ever known. The way he was, he always reserved a sharp word and a sharper wit for everyone he knew. But once he picked up his guitar, the hard exterior melted away. He simply loved playing it.

            Ashley was singing, as usual. And he took my breath away. As usual. No matter how many times we rehearse, or how often I hear his voice over the vacuum, it still struck me as hard as it did the first time I heard it. He was also getting better at the other instruments—his new favorite was the violin. Somehow, after hours and hours of analyzing hits on the iPod I gave him, he had come to the conclusion that any nice song had to have a violin part to appeal to the modern audience.

            I doubted that, but still…

            Cal really knew his way around a keyboard now, and I still cannot quite believe the sounds he could make with it. He and Ashley knew each other like the back of their hands—sometimes it seemed there was some telepathic connection between them. Part of the reason we were making so much progress in so short a time was how well those two worked together. Ashley visualized the music; Cal played it. And the rest of us would take it from there.

            The beat of Kris’ drums changed, enough to remind me to switch my own chords.

            Actually, Kris was a lot like his instruments. Faded a bit into the background, but there nonetheless. He was not an active participant in most of our daily conversations, but we could not take him for granted. Once, he had to leave, for reasons he would not specify. And though his absence did not disrupt our schedules in the slightest, nothing felt right that day. Like there was a hole in the colorful tapestry that was our life together.

            Ashley held one last, long note, and I braced myself for the end of the song. Until then, I had to keep a straight face—

            “—and, cut!”

            The camera blinked and stopped, and I let my facial muscles relax. It was not like I had been smiling that toothpaste ad smile or anything, but just keeping a calm, dignified expression—for some reason it felt every bit as hard as showing all my teeth.

            Alison beamed at us. It was proof of her skill, how she managed to keep one hand on the umbrella, the other on the camera, and still have not a single hair out of place. Her casual attire told me she had not predicted the sudden change of weather, but she still maintained her chic, sporty look perfectly, looking as though she belonged in the middle of this freak summer storm. “Good job, guys! Here, a few still shots before we get you out of this rain--”

            I heaved a sigh of relief. A little rain would not kill us, of course, and it would give our video the sort of extra edge it needed, but I was beginning to worry about our instruments. My electric guitar aside, what about Cal’s electric keyboard…?