Put Your Heart Where Your Mouth Is

Pat's theory about me liking Garret was really starting to mentally harrass me. As if I wasn't already stressed out enough. I glared at the six guitars I'd be in charge of for the night, and tried my best to shoot lazor beams from my eyes at my idiot brother, who lost my tuner and both capos. I glanced over at Wren, who was digging restlessly through the merchandise, and saw her kicking boxes under the tables to make herself seem more organized.

"Um, that one--" Jared pointed to the creme colored Les Paul in my hands, "Is what I use for the first set. We'll come back for a little while, fifteen minutes or so, and I'll tune the second one myself because I'm picky. Kennedy'll come get that acoustic for the second set--you'll tune that because he's lazy, and Garrett...will freak out if you leave fingerprints on his pick guard, so just let him handle it, and you'll keep all your appendages."

I pulled a face before letting out a dramatic sigh. He put a sympathetic hand on my shoulder, gave a firm nod, and headed off to the dressing room, which the boys had so maturally marked 'HE-MEN ONLY. NO SHES UNLESS THEY BRING BEER (and are hot)." Kennedy added a little note on the bottom with his girly handwriting, "Even if she brings beer, Andy Brock could not even pay her way in! AHAHA!"

I added a little Gay Pride rainbow next to Kennedy's name, and made sure to broadcast that he and Garrett were secretly in hot, passionate man-love with each other.

"Andy!" Someone said, before grabbing my waist, and lifting me into the air. I was dangling at least two feet from the ground, staring directly down at John's head. "Did I tell you how much I love you today?"

"Um," I said, trying not to suffocate from him grasp, "Yes, actually. On the way here. And at dinner. And during the sound check."

"I know who else loves you!" He finished, not wiping the scheming look from his face. If he grinned any wider, I was sure his cheeks would pop. "It's--"

"John Oh, we go on in like...seven miliseconds!" Kennedy called over his shoulder, as he and the other three members marched up the steps to the curtain. I loved how they just abandoned their singer, and went to set-up their posts without him.

"Bastards!" John cried, "At least I can make my grand entrance..."

This magnificent display included him tripping over the chord to Garrett's bass amp, knocking Jared's precious Les Paul off it's stand, and falling flat ontop of his own monitor. His long limbs were in a mangled heap at Kennedy's feet, who was wide eyed, and completely disoriented by the crash--which took all of about three and a half seconds. I shook my head and went to find Wren to tell her all about it.

"--And then--"

"Hey, guys." I heard Garrett say, "While John goes to get one of those cool Spider Man Band-Aids for his chin, I want to introduce our first song. You know the words--it's called 'If I Only Had a Heart', and it's dedicated to someone here who might know it's her...but she probably doesn't."

"Could he take any longer to spit that out?" I rolled my eyes, taking a bite off Wren's Laffy Taffy.

She was staring at me like I was some kind of idiot.

"What?" I asked, with my mouth full.

She rolled her eyes, "You're an idiot, Andy."

"Why?" I wiped my mouth with the bak of my hand, and turned to face her. "What'd I do this time?"

"You missed the fact that Garrett's playing this song for you." She crossed her arms, smirking at my obliviousness, and then decided to push me to the side of the stage. All of the boys stole sideways glances at me at they played, which only added to the awkward grimace on my face.

"Oh, if I only had the heart,
To find out exactly who you are,
You know I'd try now.
But it's just fine,
No you can't save me,
It's no fault but mine,
Please just blame me.
If I could gather up the nerve,
I'd put my feelings into words,
And if I weren't so young, or stupid, or restless,
I might be able to just soon forget this.
Just forget this.

If I only had the heart, the nerve, the words, you'd think by now I would have learned"

John finished the song, set his microphone back in its stand, and turned in my direction.

I froze.

He smiled.

I felt an anxiety attack coming on.