Watch Over You

I Am Trying Very Hard to Be Here

Loud banging on the door to the stairs woke me up. I seriously thought the door was going to break in half from the force.

“MJ! Wake up, we’re making breakfast!” Elvis bellowed from the top of the stairs.

“All right, all right, I’m getting up!” I yelled back, rolling out of bed. Digging through my bag, I found an outfit I could cook in comfortably and hauled myself upstairs. When Elvis spotted me, his face twisted in confusion.

“What? Is there something on my face?” I asked.

“Aren’t you gonna be cold?” He said, looking at my tank top.

“I’m still on Santa Barbara weather dude, it’s a lot warmer there.” I was cold, but I could smell the bacon frying and that had the greater pull than the goosebumps forming on my skin. As I got plates out of the cabinet, the song playing on the stereo changed to a familiar guitar riff. “Really Elvis?”

“I happen to like this song a lot.” He sniffed, faking offense. I just laughed, Lola’s voice pouring from the speakers.

“Who is that?” Myles asked, looking up from the frying pan. “She’s got a good voice.”

“That is Lola Montez. The band is called Mercyfvcks, although I’m sure MJ could tell you more about them.” I wanted to strangle Elvis, if only to get him to shut his mouth.

“Mercyfvcks is my band.” I said finally, knowing that Elvis would think something was up if I didn’t answer. I tugged on the end of his ponytail, fighting the urge to rip the whole thing out of his head. Why did he have to bring that up?

“We’re going all out to get em up, get em up, and if they wanna take a picture tell em I don’t give a fuck!” I could still see Lola dancing while she recorded that. She loved that line so much. Myles was paying careful attention now, probably mentally critiquing my technique. “Nowhere Kids” was one of my favorites and I felt myself bristling at the thought of him looking down on my riff. As we finished getting breakfast together, I could hear myself chanting along with Lola on the recording. My voice had gotten a little better over the years, enough that I could sing back up for her without ruining the sound.

“Have you guys started thinking about doing a full length album?” Elvis asked when we sat down. We’d recorded an EP called What the Fvck? and that had seemed well received. We’d done a short tour with the four songs on that EP and a few covers, but nothing substantial because of our time constraints. We could only tour during summer breaks and play small shows in Santa Barbara on weekends.

“When we get back from break we’re gonna buckle down and really pull the songs together. Lola and I have been writing for months so it’s mostly just locking down riffs and getting George and Megan’s stuff in.” It was easier to talk about this when I didn’t look at Myles. I hadn’t wanted him to know I’d started a band. I’d wanted to keep that for myself.

Lola and I were roommates our freshman year. Over the course of that time, we figured out that Lola had a good voice and a knack for lyrics. I still couldn’t pick up my guitar, even though I’d brought it with me. It was a bitter reminder of what I’d lost, but I loved it too much to give it up. Then we met George during the first jam session I did after losing Myles. She just came in with her drumsticks and started drumming along to what I was playing. Lola picked up a melody, and the rest was history. We added Megan in after hearing her play piano in the dining commons one night. Lola bought a cheap bass from a pawn shop and Mercyfvcks was born.

I loved all of them like family and we really were. We’d all gone through some shit over the last few years but we’d never been alone. Between them and the therapist, I got my life back on track. I’d been happy. But now my world had done another flip, seeing Myles again. Every time I thought I was okay with seeing him here, some unresolved feeling would bubble up to the surface and I’d be back at square one.