Chapter 16
The four of us—Aras, Charlie, Joey, and I—got to work setting up outside just a few minutes later. Charlie and Joey seemed to move slowly as they plugged in; all I had to do was find the power outlet and connect my small microphone speaker, which left me several minutes while they played with dials on their amps.
Several minutes of trying not to stare at Aras. It felt as if my eyes were drawn to him, no matter how much I tried to remind myself that he was just a normal person. He was just like Joey or Charlie; I could reach out and touch him if I wanted.
Of course, he probably would have thought that was pretty weird. I’d watched videos on my phone and on TV so often that it felt as if I’d slipped into the screen, but he was just a person. Just a normal person.
Paired with the darkness surrounding us—broken only by a single yellow light on the side of Cat’s Cradle—it was easy to believe I was only dreaming. When I glanced over to Charlie he nodded back, gripping his guitar to show he was ready.
For a moment, I wasn’t sure what to do. Aras seemed to notice; he gestured for the mic, holding his hand out with a slight smile. “Hello?” he said, bringing the mic to his mouth. “Testing, testing…” He spoke just loud enough for the speaker to pick it up; the sound filtered out into the parking lot.
A single whisper wouldn’t have carried from the line of waiting fans to where we were. A hundred whispers wouldn’t have. And yet, I felt as if I could hear a collective gasp, followed by the sounds of rushing footsteps.
At first, only one girl came into view. She was short, probably around middle school age. “It’s him!” she squealed. “It’s Aras! He’s over here!”
“Yes I am,” Aras replied, with a hint of bemusement. “My friends and I are going to sing you a little song. Don’t worry, there’ll be time for signing autographs soon. But if you guys move the line over here, maybe you can get some good entertainment while you wait.” With a few strides, he made his way to the center of the impromptu stage; I wasn’t sure whether I should follow or not, but in the end I had to.
After all, it was our performance. Aras was only helping us. He looked at me as I made my slow way over to join him. “What are the lyrics again?” he whispered.
“Um… I stayed awake last night, counting stars to the flicker in your eyes. Living dreams in my own head. Fantasies better left unsaid. They say the future’s full of snow, and lord knows I’ve felt the bitter cold.” I rushed through the words, making them sound more like a rap than a song, but I didn’t know how else to do it.
“Okay.” Aras looked back over his shoulder, toward Joey. “You guys ready? Alright, lead me in.” To me, he added. “Tap me on the cue. This is gonna be a rough start.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant, but as Charlie started playing the first few notes on his guitar I counted out the rhythm just like I would if I were the one singing. One two, one two three. Now! I nudged Aras’ elbow.
Right on cue, he launched into the song. “I stayed awake last night, counting stars to the flicker in your eyes.” I gritted my teeth, wishing I’d had the brains to sing it for him a second time; he was getting the melody all wrong. It didn’t sound terrible—I doubted his smooth, baritone voice could ever sound truly terrible—but it wasn’t the song I’d written. “Living dreams in my own head. Fantasies better left unsaid.”
He waited for a few counts, as if he was inventing his own timing as he went along. “They say the future’s full of snow, lord knows I’ve felt the bitter cold.”
Before I knew what to expect, he was handing the mic back to me; he raised an eyebrow, as if to ask whether I was going to continue the song. Like a sudden awareness of my own breathing, I could hear the notes Charlie was playing. I could feel Joey’s strumming baseline.
“—starstruck lullaby,” I sang, bringing the mic up. “Sing it up to the life that passed me by. Never good and never great, I keep trying anyway. And nights’ll be warmer, faces kinder, in that life we can’t deny. ‘Cause it won’t pass me by. Pass me by, tonight.”
There was no time for a sigh of relief; just time to smile at Aras as he left, to take in the growing audience as the waiting crowd moved in front of us. “I built up my dreams, poured out my hopes, and what did it ever get me? A life of has beens, a life of sorrow. A life of looking for what could be.”
I’d recovered, without even realizing it. Despite Aras putting me off-time and off-tune, I just kept reminding myself of how it was supposed to sound. “These shooting stars are passing planes, coming overhead. Tell me, are we past these silly games? Past fantasies we left for dead?”
Without meaning to, my eyes found that first girl who’d come sprinting over. As excited as she’d been when she’d seen Aras, she seemed entirely deflated with him gone. But I couldn’t pay too much attention to her; there was a whole crowd to look at, and maybe some of them would like the message of our song. I took a single breath to ready myself for the second chorus.
“This is a starstruck lullaby. Sing it up to the life that passed me by. Never good and never great, I keep trying anyway. And nights’ll be warmer, faces kinder, in that life we can’t deny. ‘Cause it won’t pass me by. Pass me by, tonight.”
“Pass me by. Whoa, pass me by. In this starstruck lullaby. Just pass me by, tonight.” As the final note faded on Charlie’s guitar, I had a moment to think about the song. Realistically, it was probably one of the weaker ones I’d written. It had only taken half an hour to come up with the lyrics, and my mission—well, my mission had been to come up with something Principal Wroth would be okay with Auburn performing in front of the whole school.
With that in mind, it wasn’t a bad little song. But I couldn’t help feeling like no matter what we chose to follow it up, we’d be moving onto something better. “Okay guys,” I said into the mic, “Um… This next song is called… Add One More?” My lack of confidence made it sound more like a question than a statement, but behind me I could hear both Charlie and Joey launch into the first few notes.
Perhaps it was a subtle form of revenge to follow the school-appropriate song with one that had gotten me in so much trouble; perhaps I just liked the way Add One More sounded. It had a definite rhythm, a bass groove that we hadn’t quite figured out on some of the other songs.
The lyrics didn’t start for several seconds, which gave me more than enough time to look out at the audience. It had grown from a single girl to dozens of faces; they were still in a tidy line though, as if for the sole purpose of reminding me that we were just a sideshow. A diversion, not the main event.
Near the back, I spotted Jessica. She was standing with her arms folded across her chest, her lips pursed in a not-impressed expression. I decided that was okay… We had more time to impress her.
Or not. It was Jessica, after all. I doubted there was much I could do to win her over, short of turning myself into Aras. “To one pain, we add another,” I sang, surprised by how crisp the notes felt and sounded. “When you’re hurting like no other, sometimes you just can’t take it in stride.”
I can do this, I thought. Even if I had a captive audience, even if they weren’t hanging on every note, I could see at least one or two cock their heads. They were listening, and that was all I could ever ask for. “If you can’t stand, you hopeless sufferer, to one trial, here take another. Don’t collapse until the day you survive. And maybe you’ll find…
“No, not happiness. But just a little less sadness. Just a little less pain to deny.” I’d spent the entire performance rooted to the same spot; like a fawn taking her first steps, I moved to one side of the stage. The wood pallets made it hard, since there were holes every few inches for my feet to fall through. Perhaps because of what had happened at the assembly, I was deathly afraid of tripping in the middle of a performance.
“Not satisfaction, but perhaps just some compassion. Something you won’t have to keep inside. Maybe one day you’ll survive.” A collective gasp, just like before, filtered out from the audience. At fi
rst, I thought it was in response to the lyrics.
No, not that. Before my eyes, the line started to move. Apparently the signing had started. And we weren’t even halfway through the second song. I closed my eyes, preferring darkness to the sight of half our audience disappearing into the store. “To your sorrows, add one more. When you feel like death’s door, is coming close at your own hand. Maybe you’ll remember, that this isn’t our December. The end doesn’t have to come as planned.”
When I opened my eyes, I managed a small smile. Of course they’d leave during Add One More. The song itself was about how things got worse without warning. “So go on, give me more. ‘Till I’m falling to the floor. ‘Till I beg for mercy, make me scream. Because life can be a chore. And the worst afflicted, are those who never have to add one more. So add one more.”
At least the old man had done me one favor; however he’d set up the line, he’d done it so that it didn’t move too quickly. Despite the fact that half my audience had entered the store when the doors were opened, the rest were stuck in front of me.
“Add one more—sing it with me now. ‘Cause life’s a chore—and we’ll find out how, this life will continue on. Add another—cling to it tight. Don’t go under—stay with me tonight. Until we see the break of dawn.” When I’d written the song, I’d really intended that portion of the second verse to be sung by two people, but I’d always done it by myself.
Needless to say, I was realizing that was a bad idea. I was huffing, inhaling quickly to get enough breath for the last few lyrics. “Add one more… Charlie played the final melody on the guitar. “Just add one more.”
Behind me, as the final notes fell off, I heard Charlie chuckle. I turned to frown at him; he frowned back, but after a moment he took a step forward. “You added an extra ‘add one more,’” he explained with a grin.