Strings Attached

VIII

Quinn-

He was still reluctant to play the show, but it's what his mom wanted him to do, and he always has to do what his mom tells him. She was technically his only family after all. He put the fiddle in the backseat and strapped it in next to his acoustic guitar that he forgot to bring inside from Monday. Alex must have found that strange so she spoke up.

"Isn't it a little weird to strap in your instruments, Quinn?"

"Instruments are sacred objects, okay." His voice went soft for a second,"and this was my dad's."

"Oh, um, I'm sorry for even asking then."

"It's okay, you didn't know, it's fine really."

"I'm sorry for asking this, but can you tell me about your dad? And what happened to hi- okay I'm really sorry, sometimes I don't have a filter on what I say, just ignore me."

"Oh, that's okay, I could tell you about him. Just don't be surprised if I start getting emotional." He looked up at her with a weak, half-hearted smile."I'll tell you on our way to the venue, it's about an hour away so we have time."

"Oh, well alright, we should get going though, right?"

"Yeah, just give me a quick second I've gotta get something from the back."

He popped the trunk and started rummaging through its contents, all he kept in there were his skateboard decks and supplies, and some music equipment. After a couple minutes of searching he found what he was looking for, a pack of guitar picks, they were his favorite color too, purple. He slammed the trunk shut and got back in the car. He peeled off onto the road and started talking.

"My dad, he was a really great guy, for starters. Good husband, great father, everything you'd see in the stereotypical American dad. Except for the fact that he was half Irish and half Puerto Rican, and he loved punk down to his bones. He was my best friend, to be honest with you."

Quinn did start getting emotional, his eyes were tearing up and he could barely see the road. He quickly wiped the tears away and continued talking in a soft, and sad voice.

"He gave me practically everything he had in his will, it's pretty odd to have a will written when you're 37, but he had one. I got the car, and the fiddle, and his music collection, and the necklace, and everything else. He left my mom the house, and money, and all the books in his old study."

"Your dad sounds like he cared about you a lot."

"He did, he was the only one in my family who supported my teen angst and anarchy. He was the only one who really supported the band. My mom only supported me after my dad had died."

Alex-

Quinn had more tears in his eyes now. Seeing him like this really broke her heart. She really couldn't take seeing him like this.

"Quinn, you should pull over for a minute."

"What, why? Is something wrong?"

"No, just pull over, please?"

Quinn did as she said, although he didn't know why Alex told him to pull over. Alex reached over and wiped the tears out of his eyes with the cloth she used to clean her glasses.

"You'll be okay, Quinn. I mean it, everything will turn out alright."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because, the worst things always seem to happen to good people, and they continue to be good people because it's who they are. And it's not easy to stay good, but in the end you'll have something to show for what you've been through. And knowing that you made it, and having something to prove that you made it through, that's the best outcome that you could ever have."

"I wish I had that mindset, I really do. Maybe I will one day, but that day isn't today. But thank you, I probably would've crashed this car if you weren't here, and it might've been intentional, or it might not have."

He looked out over the road in front of them and put the car back into drive. He was going faster this time, and he didn't have his seatbelt on. Whatever was going through his head, she didn't want to know. And she was scared because from what Quinn had just said, she didn't know what he'd do to himself.

"How much time until we get to the venue?"

"Not long, just about twenty more minutes....you know I never told you what happened to my dad."

"Quinn, you don't have to say anythin-"

"I'll be okay, you made me okay. My dad, I don't know why anyone would do what they did to him. He was a great person, a family man, went to church on Sundays, spent most of his time with me. And he just had to go out and buy me a new set of guitar strings. He had to go out at night. Someone had to pull a gun on him. And that someone had to pull the trigger. They just had to..they had to take him. He died in the hospital a day later. He thought coming to America would make a better life for us than in Ireland, but if he hadn't made that decision he'd still be alive. I'd be living in Dublin, or somewhere in Puerto Rico. I'd have family that I could see on the holidays. My family would be happy. Hell, I probably would've learned a few more instruments too."

"Your dad was murdered? Oh god, I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize, you're not the one who killed him. You know, I never really got the reason people apologize when they hear someone died. It really makes no sense to me."

He turned his head back to the road. There was a big building and parking lot just ahead of them.

"And here's the venue, oh shit, this place is bigger than I thought it would be."

"You're playing, here?"

"Yeah, Clarke stopped by the shop yesterday and gave me the address. How in the hell did he manage to get this venue?"

"It seems like Clarke is good at booking venues."

"Yeah, but damn, I've been trying to book this venue for months. I guess Clarke has the magic touch, maybe I'll give him the job of booking shows instead of me."

He let a small smirk creep across his face. That was the first time Alex had seen him really smile since she first saw him that morning.

"Well hey, that's a good thing, you might even get a record deal tonight or something."

"Huh, yeah I sure hope so. Booking any venue we can get is kind of getting old. Don't get me wrong, I love doing it; but with the following we've gained these past few months you'd think things would be easier for us."

"Yeah, but I really believe you guys could get a record deal, you're more than good enough to make it far and become international punk rockers."

"I really hope so, I really need money to get some things for me mom. And maybe we could get enough money to tour in Europe. I could go back to Dublin. Even for a day would be good enough for me."