Somewhere in NYC

The next day is a Friday and although you both know that Alex has to go in to work today, you also know that you’ve got the next two days entirely to yourselves, so while you’re not fond of being left alone you know it will be bearable.

“I’ll keep my phone on all day,” he’s saying forehead smushed in to yours, “anything, and I mean anything at all just ring me okay?” He hugs you tightly and then presses one last kiss to your nose before leaving. “I’ll see you in a few hours,” are his penultimate parting words followed by “I’ll be back soon, Jacky” and then he’s walked out the door with that briefcase that hadn’t been seen since you first woke up here.

You walk over to the window and look out across the magnificent view. You know that New York City is the ‘city of dreams and opportunity’ or whatever, but right now you feel it would be best to not get in to any unfamiliar situations, so staying in the apartment feels like the logical answer.

You glance at the clock. It’s nine o’clock and seven hours until Alex is due to be back. You decide to go to the bedroom and maybe pick up one of the books you remember being stacked up in there, but before you reach the books, you see a door you hadn’t noticed before.

Upon opening it, you realise it’s a cupboard, pitch black. You feel around on the wall and flick the light switch on when you find it.

The sight that greets you makes your chest lift and your heart swell. You’ve never been so happy to see your familiar purple guitar. Next to it you can see five others, one of which you recognise as Alex’s first ever acoustic, and it makes you smile thinking of the memories.

You take both your electric guitar and Alex’s acoustic back to the living room, not having the heart to leave the acoustic in the cupboard. Upon closer inspection of the overly big stereo speakers you realise they are also amplifiers and quickly spot the correct cord to plug in your electric with. There is a pop as the speakers switch on and then as you experimentally strum a G a wide smile appears on your face. Realising that now you have these guitars it means that you can play any song you like makes you instantly happier. You don’t want to try any of the songs that remind you of the band too much, so you settle for playing your favourite songs by other bands, the first one that comes in to your head being Carousel by Blink. Soon you’ve played the whole of Cheshire Cat and are moving on to Green Day covers, and you feel just like that lost teenager sitting in his bedroom with his guitar because he doesn’t know what other coping mechanisms to use all over again.

Throughout the day you keep thinking you hear people talking to you when people pass your door in the hallway and you realize it's going to take some effort to get used to living in such a busy place. At some points you even think you hear people saying your name and you begin to worry you're becoming paranoid but you try to disregard it as nothing.

Aside from getting up to get more coffee and left over pizza, you barely move for the remainder of the day before Alex gets home, and are startled to realise the time when he finally does arrive home.

“Hey, Sweetie,” he says as he walks through the door, and as you say “hey” back, you think you would be happy to get used to these new pet names.

“I see you’ve been playing guitar,” he says, “anything new?”

“No, just covers.”

“Covers of what?” he asks, making small talk.

“Green Day, Blink… I’ve been actively avoiding-“ you cut yourself off realising what you were just about to say.

“You’ve been avoiding what?” he asks casually without missing a beat.

“Songs we… Erm, songs the band made up…”

Alex stops still in the middle of the room.

“The band?” he asks, “as in the ‘we’re rock stars’ band?”

“Yeah,” you say hesitantly. When he doesn’t speak you continue, “we, er, we have a few…”

Alex walks over to the sofa you’re sat on and sits next to you.

“Play me one,” he whispers, not wanting to shatter the calm environment by speaking too loudly.

“Um, okay,” you agree. “I don’t sing… Just remember that.”

You decide after some deliberation to play The Girl’s A Straight Up Hustler as through the years it’s always been one of the first songs Alex would play when you have enough time to just jam acoustically together alone, without it being recorded or live, just for the fun of playing music with your friends.

You do try to sing as well as play, and you know the rhythm part as well as the lead part off by heart anyway so that isn’t a problem, but you still think your voice sounds like a lemur being slowly squashed by a tank.

As you finish you look up from the spot you’ve been staring at on the floor and into Alex’s eyes. More than anything he looks happy, but you can see the fear and nerves he is hiding in his eyes.

“Got any others?” he says.

You laugh. “Yeah, we have about sixty or something. But er…” you say before you break in to For Baltimore, and then Remembering Sunday. When you hit the chorus of Remembering Sunday and the line ‘forgive me I’m trying to find’ Alex’s mouth opens and you stop playing.

“What’s wrong?” you question.

“It’s just…” he begins, “I remember writing it. That was- It was one of the first songs I ever wrote.”

After looking at him for a few seconds, you continue to play.

“Forgive me I’m trying to find, my calling, I’m calling at night. I don’t mean to be a bother but have you seen this girl. She’s been running through my dreams, and it’s driving me crazy, it seems I’m gonna ask her to marry me. Even though she doesn’t believe in love, he’s determined to call her bluff, who could deny, these butterflies, they’re filling his gut…” Alex sings softly.

It’s rough and unprofessional, not at all like you’re used to hearing from him. It takes you back to when you were sixteen, and on some notes his voice would crack and the tune waver, but you’ve never appreciated just how much you like hearing him sing till right now. You get gold every day, and at some point you stop appreciating it for what it is and just expect to get it, and when it gets taken away, only then do you appreciate it again.

You finish the song and without a pause move on to Therapy. You know that if you had taken a pause you would have chickened out of playing this song. Without giving the song a new meaning as a song to make the kids feel stronger, you can guess that singing it or even hearing it again would be difficult, but you’re enjoying playing music again so much you can’t bring yourself to stop, and you’re intrigued to find out his reaction, see if he remembers, find out if it’s the same.

As soon as you start playing the melodic intro, he starts to stare at you. He doesn’t look angry or sad, yet, just intrigued and captivated, and you have to look away.

When you start singing you can hear him take an intake of breath as it is confirmed to him what song you are playing. You’d chance a glance back at him, but you can feel his eyes staring at you, and you don’t have enough nerve to if he’s going to be angry, so you just keep singing until he joins in. You can barely hear him so you know this is probably proving difficult for him but at least he’s not angry.

You both miss nearly all the notes in the chorus, but you still think it sounds beautiful. It’s just you and Alex playing together as lost kids who find solace in music, and you’ve missed this.