What We Trade Our Hearing For (a North and South Story)

17. Tell Me

"I know the way you look

You don't want to say what you're thinking

Your eyes, they start to roll when you're holding back

And I used to blame myself

But there must be other serious reasons

Why the devil's in your voice when you start to laugh"

-Good Old War

Maggie

There was nothing better to take her mind off things than girl time. Becca also needed some friend therapy, after the events of the last few weeks. So, the two of them sat in Becca's room, trying out hairstyles and looking through a box of Maggie's old accessories.

"Lord, I've never seen such a fancy pair of glasses. How do I look?" Becca struck a pose in the candy apple red sunglasses that Henry had bought several years back. She looked fabulous, the color perfectly highlighting her naturally pale complexion. 

Maggie examined her friend with a smile before saying, "They look better on you than they ever did on me. Keep them."

Quickly pulling off the glasses, Becca shook her head. "Don't be ridiculous. What would I do with something so snazzy?"

"Come on, Becca, I probably only worn those once. They'll be going to Good Will if you don't take them."

Becca rolled her eyes in response. "Alright, alright. Though I'll be afraid too afraid to lose them to wear them out." She closed the glasses and put them aside on the nightstand.

"So," Maggie said, working up the nerve to broach the subject she'd been wondering about since she arrived. "What's Nick up to today?"

The sadness that came into Becca's eyes was heartbreaking. "Oh, you know, he's been having a hard time since the riot. He thought they were making such good progress, too." She leaned back against the headboard and glanced out the window, avoiding Maggie's gaze.

"Has everything gone back to normal, then?" Things had been quiet, making Maggie wonder if it really was just that easy, if everyone could just return to business as usual.

Becca sighed. "I think they sort of gave up, after everything that happened at Thornton's. The idiots. I don't know what they thought would happen, gathering in the streets like that, throwing stones at innocent bystanders."

The blush that came into Maggie's cheeks went thankfully unnoticed by her friend. "I'm sure it wasn't as dramatic as the news made it seem," she said, looking away.

"They're lucky it wasn't worse! And Nick is so angry about it all... I wish I knew where he was." She couldn't stop the tears this time, swiping at them angrily. "I've never seen him like this, Maggie. I'm worried what he might be up to, what he might do."

Maggie didn't have any words of comfort; she just grabbed her friend's hand while they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

John

The phones had been ringing all day after the news had spread. Promoters and bands across the country were taking John's side when they heard the story of the violent mob, and how bravely John had stood against them. The riot effectively changed the tides in favor of the owners, and bookings were streaming in. The Mill's calendar was filling up with bands adding last minute shows to their tours.

"It looks like things will be picking up again," Hannah Thornton said, looking over her son's shoulder at the schedule he was working on. John just nodded absently, absorbed in his work, the sudden influx of business a welcome distraction for his personal life failings. "What about the promotion?"