Kissing Booth || Jarren

[ 19 ] Kisses and Chords

Fuck, Justin sighed inwardly as he adjusted his guitar strap. How did things end up like this? One moment he was sitting in the kitchen wolfing down Regie's famous fluffy pancakes, and the next he was standing in Seb's basement preparing to play music in front of the Three Kings.

Having shed the bright pink apron and changed into a normal set of clothes, Regie rearranged his drum set while Seb and Ryan hauled a couch over from the far corner, the short wooden legs scraping against the bare floor. "Front row seats," Seb grinned, motioning for the seniors to sit down.

"Free concert and front row tickets? It's our lucky day," Kane laughed. His soft smile and laid back attitude calmed a few of Justin's nerves, though he still felt a dark wave of anxiety steadily spreading throughout his body.

It had been a while since he'd played in front of other people excluding his bandmates. He hardly experienced stage fright anymore, but that didn't expel the worries that he might play the wrong chord or miss a beat.

In an effort to divert his attention to something else, he decided to focus on tuning his instrument. Grasping the firm wooden neck, he glanced at the headstock and quickly realized his tuner was absent. Frowning, he scanned the floor beneath him in search of the small black device. When he failed to locate it, he set his instrument down and shuffled around the perimeter, trying to recall where he had left it the day before. Nothing.

Coming up empty-handed, he reminded himself that this had happened before and that it would turn up eventually. Anyway, they'd rehearsed yesterday. The guitar would be fine.

Picking up his instrument once more, Justin turned his attention to the rest of his crew. Regie and Ryan appeared to be ready, and Seb was making some final adjustments to his microphone.

"Welcome, gentlemen, and thank you for joining us this fine Saturday morning as we rehearse for our upcoming music competition!" the singer cheered. "We'll start off by covering a classic with a few artistic tweaks by yours truly."

Oliver smiled at his brother from his spot on the couch while Kane gave an encouraging thumbs up. Justin noticed, with slight annoyance, that Darren remained slumped against the cushions, his face expressionless. Asshole. Didn't anyone teach him basic manners? Justin wondered as Ryan began the song's baseline.

As he stood there waiting for his turn, Justin felt his nerves bubbling up again, carving a shallow pit into his stomach and numbing his fingertips. Digging into his arsenal of calming techniques, he squared his shoulders and closed his eyes, trying to focus on the sound of Ryan's bass.

After a moment, he found himself steadily swaying to the rhythm as the drums came in, the soft and steady beat sweeping up his worries and carrying them off along the river of song. As Seb hummed the opening tune, Justin flexed his fingertips and welcomed the warm feeling of life rushing back into them. When Regie got to the first buildup, Justin opened his eyes, took his cue, and began to play.

Immediately, he knew that something was wrong.

The average person wouldn't have noticed anything out of the ordinary, but Justin had been playing long enough to know when his guitar was just a touch out of tune. It was a minor issue, really. Not so obvious that he had to stop playing, but enough that it bothered him a little to continue.

Glancing at his friends, he could tell that none of them had taken notice. Regie couldn't hear anything over the sound of his drums and Seb was completely engrossed in the melody spilling from his mouth. Ryan might have caught on if he were paying closer attention, but at the moment he was laser-focused on playing his own instrument.

Well, as long as nobody else was affected by the vaguely awry tune, he should probably just finish the song and deal with it afterward.

As if to prove his point, Oliver and Kane had begun tapping their feet and nodding to the rhythm, seemingly enjoying the performance. Only Darren remained motionless, his head tilted back slightly and his eyes trained on the ceiling above him. His furrowed eyebrows suggested that he was deep in thought, and Justin wondered what could possibly be more important than watching the performance right now.