Believers Never Die Pt. 1

Four weeks after Ryan and I became whatever we were, Evan and I got new neighbors. I remember spying on them through Evan's bedroom window. The second the moving van arrived, Evan and I were pushing and shoving our way to get the best view, trying to see who we'd have to deal with for possibly the rest of our lives.

All we knew was that a wealthy couple and their teenage child would be living next door to us. We had placed bets on what gender we thought the child was. Evan was absolutely positive that it would be a girl.

"Rich families always have the hot daughter," he reasoned.

On the other hand, I was praying that it was a hot boy. I could have used some eye candy around the place.

Evan and I both became alert as we saw the moving van open. We started nudging each other, vying for the first glance. First, the mother appeared. She was like a living Stepford Wife. She had an extremely skinny figure. Every part of her body flowed into the next, like a beautiful, continuous line. Her blonde hair was smooth and loosely curled at the ends. The husband soon followed. His dark hair was slicked back, and he was dressed rather sharply. He vaguely reminded me of Frank Sinatra. Then, there it was. The kid. Evan and I froze in anticipation. One foot emerged. The other followed. But when the kid fully left the vehicle, all we could see was the back of a head.

"Scheisse!" we exclaimed in unison.

Upon a closer look, I laughed. "Hat's turned backwards. Totally a boy."

Evan shook his head. "Long, brown hair. Girl."

"I know plenty of guys with long hair."

"Are they straight?" Evan snorted.

"Uh, yeah," I replied with a bit of a snarky tone. "Skaters."

"She's not a skater."

"He is wearing skinny jeans and an Element sweatshirt."

"Whatever," Evan replied. "I'm settling this now."

"What?" I asked, thoroughly confused. However, before I could get him to answer me, he threw open the window and stuck his head outside.

"Hey, you!" he called out. "My brother thinks you're a dude!"

Then, I saw the face. Cute, button nose, big green eyes, and long eyelashes. The second she turned, it was obvious she was... well, a she.

"Told you," Evan said as he turned to me. "Take a look. Tits. You ever see tits like those on a guy?"

I rolled my eyes. "No--"

"Tell your brother I said he looks like a girl!" the girl called back.

Evan started laughing so hard I thought he'd choke. I huffed, completely insulted, and I approached the window. "What did you say?"

She grinned. "Just kidding, man. Calm down," she told me with a laugh. "My name's Chris."

I smiled. "Max. It's nice to meet you--"

Evan shoved me out of the way. "I'M EVAN," he shouted. "THE COOL BROTHER."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. With that, I left the room. I walked downstairs, poked my head around for a bit, and tried to search for something to occupy me. After about twenty minutes of this, I grabbed my guitar and headed out to the backyard. I started playing, just messing around with the strings. It was really nothing but me plucking strings in a random order, looking for something to write. After this, I would show it to Evan, and he would make it better. That was usually how it worked with us. Then I would go and compose the other instruments I wanted, and we would show those to whoever was playing with us for that album.

"Hey."

I looked up. "Hi," I said, squinting my eyes a bit due to the sun. "What are you doing here?"

"Just heard you playing," Chris told me. "Thought I'd come check it out. You're really good."

"Thanks."

"You said your name was Max, right?"

I nodded. "Uh, yeah, I did."

She smiled at me. "So... you're like... Max J aren't you?"

I shrugged and nodded, smiling sheepishly. "Well, I was. It's Maxim James now."

"Oh, that's rad," she told me, sitting in front of me in the grass. "Very edgy. I like it."

"Me too," I told her, smiling. "Thanks."

"So, you should totally like... play me another one. I liked what you were playing."

"I was just messing around--"

"Yeah, but it was good," she commented. "So just play it."

And I did. I played and played and played for her. We were out there until her parents called her back inside, which was probably about 11. She liked my music. Somehow, that gave me some hope. She pushed me the next few days, and I wrote another song. It wasn't much, but it was better than I had been doing. Without that push, I never would have made that album, and I never would have made it where I am now. It was all because of that support.

I owe it all to Chris for getting my confidence back. And I know this is belated, Chris, but we love you back.