Dancing With Keenan

Chapter Eleven - Stuck With Y'all Now

"As much as I hate to say," I said, smiling at all the strange faces in the dance hall. "That was our last song for tonight."

A collective groan filled the room.
"I know, it sucks. Anyway, we want to thank y'all for coming out tonight and showing your support!"
The crowd cheered.
"And now," Keenan cut in, moving up to stand beside me, "In the spirit of Nightfall, we're gonna open up the floor for questions. Write 'em down and drop 'em in that jar on the bar."
Another cheer.
Someone handed the jar up to the stage a few minutes later.
"You know the drill," I told them, "Three questions and we'll post the rest on social media." I pulled a slip of paper from the jar and unfolded it. "How long will Delilah be with the band?" I read. "As long as I'm needed."
Keenan picked the next question from the jar. "Who wrote 'Unravel'?"
I answered, "I wrote it about an old relationship that ended badly."
I fished around inside the jar for the third and final question we would be answering tonight.
"What is 'Promises Made' based on?"
I took a deep breath as I prepared to answer the question. I had written that song years ago, and it always cut me to the very core to talk about it. "When I was in high school," I began, "A friend of mine committed suicide. She'd been going through some stuff, and even though I'd tried my hardest to help her get past it, she gave up at some point. Somewhere along the way, she'd given up, and we all struggled to help her save herself, but it just wasn't enough. That's what I wrote this song about."
Tears pricked at my eyes as I thought about Alaina and the life she never got to live. She would've laughed at my current predicament, but she would've been in my corner, no matter what. Her smiling face took over my mind, and then it flipped to the not-quite-buried cherry wood casket. I'd watched as they lowered her into the ground, and I'd watched as they covered her with dirt.
Keenan's hand rested against my back.
"That's it for tonight, guys," he announced, fitting his microphone into the stand and strumming a few notes on his guitar. "But, I think we can fit one more song into our set tonight. What do y'all think?"
A cheer rose up in the dance hall.
"We're gonna do 'Silence,' Lilah," Keenan told me.
I nodded and raised my violin to my shoulder.
"This is 'In The Silence,'" I let out as I danced my bow across the strings for the introduction.
"You can do this, Lilah," Keenan whispered to me.
And as much as I hated to admit it, that was exactly what I needed.
"In the silence," I sang softly.
"I find myself
Alone again
In the darkness
I find you here
As broken and beaten as me

The silence is hell

The white noise is worse
They fill my head
And break me down
I cry out, I scream out
For a past that has died

In the silence

I feel the pain
Forced on me
In the darkness
I find my solace
As fleeting and lost as a smile

The silence is hell

The white noise much worse
They fill my mind
And break me down
I cry, I scream, drowning
In a past that has died

In the silence

In the darkness
Life has lost
Smiles have died
In the silence
In the darkness

In the silence," I ended with, a quiet whisper of a note that faded into nothing.

"Thanks so much for comin' out tonight and we'll see y'all at City Limits on Saturday!"
The mood in the dance hall was somber as we filed back down the hall and into the dressing room. We saved one of our most emotional songs for last, and it had silenced the revelers. They'd inevitably be back on Saturday to see more, but it always left me a little unsettled to leave them in such a solemn mood.
"That was amazing!" The bar's managed exclaimed as we stepped back into the tiny dressing room. "They love y'all!"
I smiled and collapsed into one of the threadbare chairs. Keenan sat across from me, his eyes trained on the slightly overweight manager.
"I'll have one of the girls bring the tip jars back as they get full, and I'll get to sorting out the covers in a few," he continued, passing a pudgy hand over slicked-back hair. "Y'know, I was a little uncertain about havin' y'all here tonight, bein' a different kind of music and all, but y'all were a real hit!" He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I wouldn't be averse to makin' this a weekly thing, either."
So, there it was, the reason Willie Mitchum, general manager for this little backwoods dancehall, had been rambling on. I glanced at Keenan. He let out a tense breath and met my gaze.
"I wouldn't be against making this a regular thing myself, Mr. Mitchum, but I'm not too sure that weekly would be the best thing for the band."
Willie nodded and hooked his thumbs in the pocket of his brown polyester slacks. "I can understand that."
"Why don't Lilah and I discuss it and get back to you?"
"Fine, fine," he drawled, reaching out to shake our hands before prancing out of the room.
Keenan chuckled. "He's a strange fellow."
"You got that right," I told him, dropping back into my chair, "But it certainly couldn't hurt to have a guaranteed payday every so often."
Keenan nodded slowly.
"I think that every week would be a bit too much," I went on, "We need exposure, and to get that, we'd need to do two shows a week, every week."
"But if we do every other week," Keenan picked up my thought, "We would have the guaranteed money and the exposure."
"Seems like it could be good for us."
He nodded again, just as a knock at the door prevented him from responding.
"I'll get it," I told him, taking the three steps to the door.
The door swung inwards, revealing a leggy brunette with dark brown eyes and a mischievous smile. Just a hair taller and skinnier than me, with big brown eyes that screamed trouble maker, my sister was both my mirror image and my opposite. I carried my twenty-four years differently than Meghan carried her nineteen. She was buoyant and full of life, while I had aged quickly over the last two years, my face no longer glowing with the same youthfulness.
Meghan dragged me into a tight hug, the subtle scent of vanilla surrounding me.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked when she released me.
"I came to visit my big sister, obviously."
I arched a brow, backing into the room and closing the door behind us. "Without warning?"
She laughed softly, some mysterious emotion lurking in her chocolate-colored eyes. Her face, save for that youthful exuberance I no longer shared, was so similar to mine. We shared the same almond-shaped eyes and olive skin, chestnut hair and deep brown eyes. Over the years we'd been both close and distant. As children, we had been best friends, but as she entered her teenage years, we drifted apart.
And when my life had gone to pot, our relationship had deteriorated into nothing.
I didn't trust her motives. Mama would've told me to shut up and be glad she'd come to visit, but Meghan never did anything without it benefitting her. Mama always gave her the benefit of the doubt, but I just didn't trust it.
Meghan glanced around the room, letting her eyes rest for a moment on each member of the band.
"How'd you know where to find me?" I questioned.
Her gaze landed on Keenan, a brief flash of anger heating her eyes. "The band's Facebook page."
"Of course," I muttered.
She let a tiny smile paint her face, but I didn't like it. It was almost sinister, like Meghan had something in mind that no one would like.
"Meghan," I warned as she stalked towards Keenan.
He stood from his chair, greeting her, "Meghan."
She didn't respond as she raised her hand and slapped him across the face.
Keenan recoiled and pressed his own hand to his wounded face, swearing.
Mariah rushed forward and grabbed Meghan's arms while I went to Keenan. He rubbed at the irritated skin, a big red handprint forming on his cheek.
"I am so sorry," I whispered, pulling his hand away and examining his face.
"Don't be," he shrugged.
I sighed and glanced back at Meghan. She and Mariah were arguing quietly, sentences riddled with curses. I wondered how much of our history Mariah knew and how much Meghan would be willing to reveal. I still barely knew my bandmates, and I certainly wasn't ready to explain our past to them.
Meghan was a loose cannon, though, and it wouldn't be out of character for her to use my past to her advantage. Her temper was one of the most notable things about her, and she was known to say things she shouldn't say in the heat of the moment. She rarely thought before she spoke, and she didn't care about consequences, as long as she won whatever fight she was in.
"Does she know?" I asked Keenan, jerking a thumb in the direction of the two.
"Does who know what?"
"Does Mariah know about Kalya?"
Keenan flinched as surely as if I'd raised my hand to him. Pain flashed across his face and those stormy eyes darkened with a deep, deep pain. His walls crumbled when I said her name, and for a brief moment, he was open to me.
I wasn't sure how I felt about that.
The pain contained in the steely depths of his eyes would have been enough to drive me to my knees if he hadn't reached out to grasp my elbows. It was raw and uncontained, that very same pain that I struggled with every day.
He took in a deep breath, and his face shuttered closed, back to the neutral expression that told nothing of the pain we shared. The only sign that something was bothering him was the tense set of his jaw.
"No one here knows," he whispered.
I swore and moved to run a hand through my hair. Keenan tightened his grip on my arm. I struggled against him for a moment, giving up when I realized just insignificant the gesture was. It didn't matter that he was holding my arm. It didn't matter that it did strange things to my emotions, that it made me feel this tangled up ball of agony and ecstasy.
Nothing mattered.
We were up the creek without a paddle, so to speak, and I didn't have the energy to fight him.
"She better keep her mouth shut," I muttered.
Keenan released my elbow and rested a hand on my shoulder in an attempt at comfort. His small gesture cut me to the quick, reminding me off all the times he'd done this before and of all the times he hadn't done this. I could easily think back to all the times in the last two years that I had desperately needed him, but he was never there.
I could also think back to the many more times that he had supported me in a way that no one else ever could.
I no longer knew what to expect from him. It was like he was a different Keenan than the one I'd known for so many years.
"She will," he reassured.
"You have more faith in her than I do."
The corner of his mouth lifted up in a half-smile. "She knows how far is too far, Lilah."
I cast a glance over at my little sister. "Knowing and caring are two different things," I touched Keenan's arm one last time and headed over to Meghan. "I need to get her out of here."
He nodded and shot me another little half smile.
I grabbed Meghan by the arm and dragged her out of the dressing room. She stumbled before finding her footing and floundering after me.
"What the hell were you thinking?" I demanded once we'd climbed into my car.
It only protested once before turning over, and I reversed out of the parking space.
"Well?" I snapped, turning onto the two-lane road that would take us back to my apartment.
"He deserved it," she stated, and I was sure she was rolling her overly expressive eyes.
"Whether he deserved it or not is beside the point. You don't have the right to go around slapping people."
"Oh, come on, Lilah," she whined, "You can't tell me you've never wanted to slap him yourself."
"Doesn't matter. Wanting to do something and actually doing it are two totally different things, Meghan."
I glanced over at her at the stop sign. Her lips were pursed as she roamed her gaze over the windshield. The crinkle forming at the corner of her mouth told me that I wasn't going to like whatever she was about to say.
"Yeah, some of us actually have the balls to do those things," she snarked, a cheeky smile crossing her face.
I sighed, shoving a hand through my hair.
I was out of ideas.
I had absolutely no idea what to say to her. As much as I loved my sister, I wanted to put her on the next bus back to North Carolina, where Mama could set her straight. If left to me, I worried where the temper Meghan and I shared would leave us. My thoughts were already drifting into dangerous territory, and that didn't bode well for the rest of the night.
Chill, I told myself.
I wouldn't lose it on Meghan just yet. I needed to be home, not trapped in this tiny little car. Meghan and I shared the family temper, and an argument in such a confined space would surely be a disaster.