Hanging By a Moment

“Hey Emma, now you’re here I want to run through a new song okay?” Nick explained as I descended the stairs into the Jonas basement the next day.

“A new song? Nick, are you for real? We’re playing a show tomorrow!” Joe argued, “That is suicide.”

Nick sighed, and handed me a guitar before stepping behind his drum set, “It’s an easy enough song. I’ve done copies of the sheet music,” he returned holding pieces of white paper and passed one each to myself, Joe and Kevin, “Look, if it doesn’t work out then we can fill its spot with one of our other songs but I have a really good feeling about this so can we at least try?” He begged. I looked at Kevin and we both shrugged, and then all three of us turned to look at Joe. He glared at Nick, glanced down at the song, looked from me to Kevin, threw up his hands in annoyance and agreed. Nick grinned and turned to his eldest brother after returning back behind his drum kit, “Kev, you will have to play drums on this song.”

Kevin nodded, put his guitar back on the stand and crossed the space to the drum kit, “I have just one question, little brother,” he said, taking one of the drum sticks off of Nick, and hitting the cymbal, “What are you going to be doing?”

“Piano,” Nick said, and then took the drum stick back off of Kevin and began playing the basic drum beat for BB Good.

“And how are we doing to get a grand piano to the Opera Bar?” Kevin asked; raising his eyebrows.

“There’s already one there,” Joe announced; he’d been leaning against a table quietly reading over the lyrics whilst everyone else got sorted, but now he spoke, “I was there the other day talking to Julia’s dad, getting everything set up and stuff, and I saw one near the stage.” He explained, and then he nodded in Nick’s direction, “It’s a good song.”

“Thanks,” Nick smiled, “So can we do it?” He asked and we all nodded and called out agreements. I turned away from the group to tune my guitar, “I did it for you earlier Emma, it’s all set to go.” Nick called out, but I continued to fiddle with the strings, “Emma?” He repeated and suddenly he was beside me, “Are you okay?”

“Urm what?” I asked, wheeling around to look at him, “Oh yeah I’m fine; just a little tired.” I forced myself to laugh.

“Nervous?” He asked, smiling, and I shrugged, “It’s our first show tomorrow! It’s crazy right? I mean, did we ever really consider ourselves as a band?”

I shrugged, “I guess not.”

“We were just four kids that got together one day to play music, and decided we liked it, it’s crazy how we’re like...a band now.” He shook his head in astonishment and I nodded in agreement, “I’m glad you’re here with me, making our dreams come true together.” He grinned and pulled me into a hug, and I fought back tears, “Now let’s get practising.”

“Yeah, let’s.” I agreed, setting the guitar into a comfortable position on my shoulder and then retreating back to the performance space to practise our new song; Much Better.

We had to practise that a lot of times; Joe kept singing Nick’s lines, and then Kevin would play the drums wrong (drums weren’t his forte; if necessary he could play it but he wasn’t good or anything. He was just...decent,) and I must admit that I wasn’t in the best frame of mind to be playing new songs at all, and couldn’t really concentrate; but in the end we got it. After the two hours of practising one song, we had a well earned break where we headed up to the kitchen, where Denise had cooked bacon sandwiches for us, and then after twenty minutes Nick was herding us back down into the depths of the basement to rehearse some more.

“Okay so I’ve organised a set list-” Nick started.

Joe interrupted, “We only have a half an hour slot.”

“It’s only six songs long!” Nick argued, and then turned to look at me, “I want your opinion Emma, come here.” I did as I was told and glanced down at the sheet of paper he handed to me.

Underdog
Time for Me to Fly
BB Good
Much Better
Tonight
That's Just the Way We Roll

I looked it over again and then looked at Nick who shrugged at me in a ‘well?’ manner; I smirked and asked, “Am I allowed to argue?”

“No, not really,” He grinned and I giggled; an actual giggle, not a fake one.

“Well it sounds good anyway.” I smiled, “Are we going to get practising then, boss?” I asked and he nodded, before turning around and yelling ‘COME ON BAND, LET’S GET STARTED!’ I giggled again, and then picked up my guitar and put the strap over my shoulder.

What was it about him that meant he could make me laugh whenever he was around? I guess it came with being a best friend.

**

“Mom,” I started as I sat on the sofa on the morning of the next day, August 18th, my pile of just opened birthday presents beside me. I glanced down at the iPod touch box and sighed; my Mom had complained that we couldn’t afford it, but my Dad had argued my case and eventually they’d bought me it, “I could get a job and help you pay the bills; then we wouldn’t have to move.”

She sighed, and then picked up the carrier bag that I had put all of my wrapping paper into, “Even if you did get a job Emma, you’re at school all day and would only be able to work weekends. You wouldn’t make enough money to make a difference,” She headed to the living room door, “Would you just accept that we’re moving and enjoy your birthday?” She snapped, and then disappeared out of the room.

I glared after her and then went upstairs to get my laptop. Once I brought it back down, I attached my new iPod to it and began to sync all of my songs over. It was looking as if it would take a while (maybe something to do with having 2278 songs to sync) so I left it and turned my attention to the TV.

Hannah Montana was on so I settled down to watch it, occasionally checking the laptop to see if my iPod was finished. As Hannah Montana was sat dressed as a carrot, a voice broke my concentration with the television.

“Man she’s cute,” Nick said and I shook my head. He grinned and then reached towards me, beckoning me to stand up, and then he pulled me into a hug, “How’s the birthday girl?” He asked.

“I’m fine,” I smiled, “Excited about tonight; are you?”

“Extremely,” He agreed, “Happy birthday, Em.”

I smiled and hugged him again, “Ah, you have no idea how happy I am to see your smiling face,” I sighed, and he laughed, “My sister has gone back to college, and my Mom isn’t exactly happy since my Dad-” I stopped myself, remembering that he didn’t know my Dad had left, “went to work again.” I corrected myself.

He sighed and hugged me tighter, breathing in deeply, “But tonight all of your dreams come true Em,” He laughed and I giggled, “But now open your presents!” He exclaimed, pushing me away and picking up a gift bag that he had apparently put down on his way in.

I grinned and took it off of him and then sat down on the sofa; I opened the card first, and a gift card for urban outfitters fell out. I read the front and my eyes widened, “Nick!” I gasped, “This gift card is for one hundred dollars!”

“So?” He shrugged.

“So, you got me presents as well!” I shook my head, pulling the two wrapped presents from the bag. He just smirked and shrugged again.

“You deserve it after what you’ve been through.”

My head snapped up as he said it, “What do you mean?”

“What with Nathan and everything,” He explained, “And me acting like a dick.” He shook his head, “Anyway, open the rest of your presents!” He grinned; he was more excited than I was. I laughed, and pulled one of the two presents out of the box. It was wrapped in red metallic paper; with a blue ribbon around it (I would hazard a guess that Denise added that extra touch.) I ripped it open to revealed small black box. I smiled to myself, and then opened it.

Inside was a silver chain, and attached to it was a lock shaped pendant; I remembered looking at it in the window of Tiffany’s as we walked past the other day at the mall.

“I already had the gift card and the other thing, but I wanted to get you something else and when I saw you look at it before, I went back and bought it,” He shrugged, “Turn it over.” He smiled. I did as I was told and then grinned. “I got it engraved too.”

On the back of the pendant was the year ‘1996’ engraved on it. I smiled and then hugged him, “The year you moved in,”

“The year we became best friends,” He smiled back and then shrugged, “It’s a little cheesy but-”

I shook my head, “No I love it.” I smiled, “Thank you.” I reached for the last present, it was in the same red paper and also tied with a blue ribbon, and I ripped it open and looked down at the CD case. The cover was homemade; a photo of myself and Nick with the words ‘Happy 17th Emma! Love Nick” written on it, “A CD?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s my own song,” He explained, “I wanted you to hear it but can you listen to it when I’m not around?” He asked.

“Sure,” I answered, “But why?”

“I don’t know how I’ll handle it if you don’t like it,” He chuckled slightly and I patted his arm in encouragement.

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” I said, and then pulled him into another hug. I faintly heard him mumble ‘I hope so’ against my hair, “Thank you Nick, you must have spent a fortune.”

“Don’t worry about it, I can afford it.” He replied, “So listen, I was thinking, you’ve been old enough to drive for a year now...and I know you were waiting for your Dad but,” He paused, and when I didn’t speak, he continued, “Well I thought you might be sick of waiting and maybe you’d like me to take you for your first lesson?” He offered, “You don’t have too,” He shrugged.

“I’d love it!” I grinned, “Can we go now?” I asked and he nodded, “Come on then, let’s go!”

**

Thirty minutes later I sat in the driver’s seat of Nick’s mustang. I’d been bombarded with more presents when I had walked into the Jonas residence; a nomination bracelet from Denise, Paul and Frankie (“We got you a charm with an E on it, and one with a guitar on it,” Denise has smiled, “You can buy them from a jewellers at the mall; to fill the entire bracelet you need at least eighteen,”), perfume from Kevin and Danielle and a pile of books to last me at least until Christmas from Joe and Julia. They were all stashed on the back seat now, and Nick was in the passenger seat.

He had reversed the car off of the drive, claiming that I wasn’t ready for that, and then he had moved to the passenger seat and I had got into the driver’s seat. Now we were ready to go.

Nick was now explaining all the different parts of the car; the break, the accelerator, the gear stick, the steering wheel... “So are you ready?” He asked after a while and I nodded, “Okay, put it into gear,” I put one hand on the gear stick, leaving the other on the steering wheel, and he placed his hand on top of mine, guiding it. Once it was in the right gear, he began speaking again, “Right, now put your foot down on the accelerator slow-” I slammed my foot down to the floor and the car began revving up, “SLOWLY!” Nick yelled, and I quickly took my foot off. He shook his head, “Slowly, Emma, slowly.” He repeated, laughing.

“Sorry,” I blushed, giggling at myself. I put my foot down slightly, and then looked at Nick, he smiled.

“Good, now lift the hand brake,” He instructed. I did so, and then the car started moving forward slowly, “Good!” He chuckled, but then the car started bouncing against the road like a kangaroo, and a squeak escaped my lips. I took my foot off of the accelerator, and held my hands up in surrender, “Emma the car!” Nick gasped, “Put your foot on the brake!” He exclaimed.

“I DON’T KNOW WHICH IT IS!” I yelled.

“THE END ONE!” Nick yelled back, and I slammed my foot down on to one of the pedals; the car slammed to a stop and I rested my head back against the headrest, breathing deeply, “Emma, I say this with all the love in the world, get out of my car.”

At that I giggled, and then he laughed, and before long we were both in a fit of laughter until a car beeped behind us, and we realised the car was stopped in the middle of the road. We laughed some more at this revelation, and then Nick finally opened the door and walked around to the driver’s side as I slid over to the passenger seat. Once he’d climbed back in and began driving away, he chuckled and turned to look at me, “This is going to be hard work.” He said and I blushed, “But enough for today; it wouldn’t be good for our image if two of the band members died on the day of our first show.” He joked.

“Hey!” I smirked, “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Yes Emma, you really were.” He argued, “Now birthday girl; would you like me to take you to Starbucks for a caramel hot chocolate?”

“Yes please.” I grinned. As we drove I said, “You know, I’m a little shocked that you didn’t add I’m Gonna Getcha Good to our set list.” I looked at him, “We have so much fun playing that song.”

He shrugged, “We don’t have the rights to play it; it’s copyrighted.”

“Is that the only reason?” I asked, remembering the annoyance on his face last time we had played the song, “I couldn’t help but notice that last time we played it, when Joe and I were dancing, you seemed really annoyed or something.” I said. He didn’t say anything, just kept his eyes on the road, so I sighed and added, “Maybe I was just imaging it.”

We were silent for a moment and then he said, “You weren’t imaging it; I was annoyed,” He said. I asked why, and then looked at him. He glanced my way for a moment before reverting his attention back to the road, sighing, “I thought you were going to get back with Joe.”

I felt butterflies rise in my stomach as I asked, “And why did that bother you?”

He shrugged then and replied calmly with, “I was worried about you. I knew he liked Julia a lot, and I didn’t want you to get hurt again.”

“Oh,” Was it wrong that I was more than a little disappointed by that?