What A Song Could Do

July 2008

Trigger warnings in this chapter.

July 2008

We were finally back at Illinois—not to be home, but to perform. After the end of the day, we were all seated at the curb of the parking lot, waited until dad's familiar Honda Civic pulled out in front of us. Immediately, Hank's eyes found mine, holding his backpack helplessly.

It was sad to see him go, which is why I didn't like goodbyes. But I had to at least ruffle his hair and give him a tight hug and pat at the back.

"You sure you'll be fine?"

Hank nodded, "I'm good."

"Okay. Take care of mom."

"I will."

I ruffled his hair again and he groaned in annoyance. I knew he was embarrassed, but I hadn't had the chance to do this until now. The rest of the gang gave their farewells and regards. And then Hank smiles once more before pulling the car door close. I gave a wave to dad, who didn't bother coming down nor even rolling the window. But it was fine.

In a moment they were gone.

"A-plus for babysitting," Jacob patted me at the back.

"Whatever."

And then we all ended up at the bus. For the rest of the three-day span, all I did was hold my guitar and sing songs. Will was irritated at me the whole time; Joe was nice enough to jam with me a few times, and Jacob was just Jacob—ate pizza the whole week.

It was a nice time to write lyrics, hum a few words, which was exactly the reason I rarely left the bus, excluding the times I needed to go to the stage with the rest.

On the fourth of July, everyone decided to keep me in real check and have a taste of the air outside. We weren't leaving Chicago until we visit Fireside Bowl. It was the tradition. Although a few times I didn't want to leave, I didn't really want to waste my holiday moping around.

So when we get there around lunch, it was mostly packed. The lady at the counter immediately recognized us and greeted us like friends who haven't seen each other in a while. Given we weren't exactly locals, the welcome was warm.

I really missed this place, I thought. There were a lot of memories.

The bowling alley was open. Usually it was closed during the night, when bands would play for a session or when the bar opens up. But we stayed for the drinks. We talked about Warped and Jacob opens up on a girl he had slept with at the back of the parking lot one time. All of us groaned.

"Really appreciated you haven't kept that to yourself," Will said.

And then we started talking about our families. It wasn't a nice topic to talk about, but we had to at least. Joe's parents were filing a divorce. It was either he was already expecting it or he just didn't care anymore. Of course, the situation with my father wasn't worth bragging, but at least my mother's condition was.

By a few hours we headed back and stopped by fireworks on the way. It wasn't the Fourth without our tradition of lighting up crackling crackers on Joe's backyard every year. But this time it was the parking lot. I guess it would do.

I didn't think One Rock was actually going to show up during the night. Of course, Matthew was there; rocking a Coldplay T-shirt with his usual beanie and wristbands.

For a moment when we lit up the fireworks, I was trying to think of something to say to him. It was hard to swallow and tear my eyes away, especially when he was already next to me, gazing the sunset sky with the fireworks shining.