Chapter 18

Darryl Nelson

Mikey’s stern words echo in my ears all night. Smit is still giving me the cold shoulder, so our performance that night is stiff and shorter than normal, missing all the cheerful banter that Smit likes to indulge in.

Lukas tries to entice me to another post-gig party, but I turn him down. I am sure Mikey has told my folks about my slip—I have several messages and calls from my dad, just ‘checking in,’ which is weird. I do divulge my little sojourn to visit Dr. Greene, which I think surprises my dad, but after that, he seems to relax a bit.

I know I’ve fucked up. I know my folks have reservations about me coming on this tour in the first place, and I live up to every bad thing they think about me. I am tired of being the family fuck-up. Now, it seems I am the band fuck-up, too.

“What’s with you guys tonight?” Dalia questions from her perch on top of the travel cases as I traipse past her on my way to the dressing room area backstage.

“It’s all my fault.” I stop and lean my back up against the wall, dropping my head back against the rough brick with a dull thud. “I’ve fucked up. Again.”

Dalia lays an arm across my back, resting her chin on my shoulder. “In my humble opinion, there’s nothing that is ever so bad you can’t come back from it.”

***

“Hey,” I give an awkward smile as I slide into the shiny pleather booth of the truck stop diner opposite my bandmates. Smit pauses for a second, his fork hesitating in its journey to his mouth, allowing a droplet of syrup to dribble off the piece of pancake and back onto his plate, but he doesn’t raise his eyes to meet mine. Evan gives me a tight smile back before returning to his steaming mug of pitch-black coffee. “Look, I know you guys are pissed at me,” Smit huffs in agreement, his face already forming a scowl. “I know I should have told you before I took off, but I just really needed to see my therapist.”

Smit looks up sharply. “What?”

“I know you know I kinda fell off the wagon after all this shit going on with Stevie. I should have been stronger, but I wasn’t,” I shrug. “My head’s all fucked up. I didn’t mean to go AWOL. All I was thinking about was getting to the shrink’s place. Then the fucking bus broke down, I didn’t have a phone charger with me…I’m sorry I fucked up and let you guys down.”

Smit and Evan share a look, and then Smit shrugs and starts shoveling his loaded pancakes into his mouth again. “It is what it is,” he says around a mouthful of food—the dude really needs to learn how to swallow before he starts talking.

“That’s it?” I ask, expecting him to drag me over the coals a bit more.

“Meh,” he shrugs. “I’m not one to hold a grudge. You needed help. You recognized that and did something about it before it got too out of hand. That’s fucking brave of you to admit.”

“Thanks, dude,” we share a genuine smile, the first in the last few days, and my shoulders feel a little bit lighter.

***

Snagging Smit’s acoustic guitar, I find a quiet bench near where the buses are parked. It has been a while since I’ve played a normal guitar—my mom is a lefty like me—so it takes a while to readjust to the strings being the wrong way up once I’ve flipped it upside down, but soon I am plucking out a tune that has been floating around inside my head for a little while.

“That’s pretty cool,” Dalia climbs up onto the bench next to me, resting her Doc Marten-clad feet on the seat and her ass on the top. “What is that?”

“Just something I’ve had, y’know, floating around up here,” I tap my forehead. “That’s a pretty cool hoodie,” I quip, and Dalia smirks at me, pulling the long sleeves of my ~Ashes Within~ hoodie down over her hands. “Am I ever gonna get that back?”

“Nope! It’s too comfy.” She grins toothily at me, and I can’t help but smile back. “So, you seem a bit happier now. I take it you sorted things out with Smit and Evan?”

“Yeah. I guess you were right; it wasn’t too bad to come back from.” I gently nudge her knees with my shoulder.

“So, you wanna play that tune again for me?”

We spend the next hour or so tinkering with the melody I’ve been playing, expanding it, and Dalia even starts to get a few lyrics going. It is nice…different from when I’ve written shit with Smit.

“Well, this is all looking very cozy over here.”

I resist the urge to immediately jump up and sucker-punch Axl, but my eyes do roll so hard I’m sure he could hear them. He stands in front of the two of us, legs spread in a wide stance, his arms crossed in front of his chest, and a sullen scowl on his dumb face.

“Don’t, Axl,” Dalia frowns a little.

“Don’t what? It’s a public fucking area, Darls, I can stand here if I like.” He sounds like a petulant little asshole. “I’m just wondering why my singer is writing music with the little prince.”

“Fuck you,” I spit, putting the guitar down on the bench next to me and starting to push to my feet. Dalia grabs my arm, stopping me.

“Darryl, don’t. He’s just trying to get a reaction out of you because he knows you could get kicked off the tour and get blacklisted for any future support acts.” I slowly lower myself back to a seated position, and Dalia slides off the bench instead. “And it’s none of your business who I write music with, Axl—if it’s not for our band.”

“Whatever. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised that this kid wants to follow in my footsteps, huh? First getting all up on my ex-girlfriend, then injuring me so he can steal my fucking spot in ~my~ band, and now tryin’ to steal my fucking singer!”

“Not my fault I’m obviously better than you in everything,” I smirk, noting the flare of red outrage creeping up his cheeks.

“It’s easy to float through life when your ~mommy~ paved the way for you,” he snarls, stepping forward, but Dalia blocks him.

“Axl, don’t! Why are you hellbent on making problems? If you’re not careful, ~we’ll~ be the ones getting kicked off the tour.” Axl scoffs but does back down, and I feel my hackles going back down too.

My phone chooses this to be the optimum time to go off, and I wrestle it out of my jeans. My mom’s name flashes up on the caller ID.

“Mom?”

~“Hi, honey. How’s it going?”~

“Eh, you know, the usual.” My mom chuckles down the line. Axl shakes his head and stalks off back to the buses, and Dalia flashes me an apologetic smile and follows him. I push to my feet and start pacing up and down. “So, what’s up?”

~“I…uhm…I have some news that I thought it would be best to share with you straight away, given what happened when I kept things from you before.”~ My hand tightens around the handset, making the plastic creak with the force.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, dreading the answer.

~“I had a doctor’s appointment this afternoon, and after the last round of tests, they did,”~ I swallow, trying to ignore the buzzing that is starting up in my ears. This is it…this is the conversation where I find out my mom’s fucking dying. ~“Well…I’m clear.”~

“What? What does that mean?” I demand. My mom lets out a sob on the other end of the line.

~“There was no more cancer detected. I’m clear. I’m going to be okay!”~ Her voice wavers, breaking off into sobs, and I can hear the muffled soothing voice of my dad in the background. Tears stream down my own cheeks, my voice stolen by the absolute fucking joy coursing through my body.

~“Darryl?”~ My dad’s voice fills my ears. ~“You’re still there, kid?”~

“Y-yeah,” I choke out, my voice thick with emotion.

~“We’re gonna throw a party when you come home to celebrate your first tour and to tell everybody the good news, so please, don’t tell Stevie just yet, okay?”~

“Sure,” I sniff, running my hand under my nose. “I love you, Dad.”

~“Love you, too, kid.”~

“Tell Mom I love her.”

~“Will do. Speak to you later, okay?”~ I place my hands on the top of my head, breathing heavily, my cheeks still wet with tears.

“What’s wrong?” I look up and Dalia is walking back toward me.

“My mom…” I croak, pausing to swallow the huge lump that is still in my throat. “My mom has been given the all-clear.”

“What?!” She runs the rest of the short distance to me and throws her arms around me. “That’s amazing, Darryl! I’m so happy for you guys!”

I wrap my arms around her slender frame and squeeze her into my body. “Thank you. For everything. I don’t know if I’d have survived this tour without you.”

“Aww, shucks!” Dalia pulls back from me, a hint of pink coloring her cheeks. “It’s nothing, really.”