Hang on for the Ride

“We're not going anywhere,” the red-haired woman declared with a confident smile into the oversized microphone she held. “We've talked about it and this is still the life we want – this is where our hearts are. We are just taking a little time off.”

“And what are you going to do in that time off?” The show's host asked. He wanted her to say they'd still be writing, or recording, or something he could slap a you-heard-it-here-first-folks tagline onto. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Instead, she shrugged and said, “To heal. This whole situation is bound to have changed us all – we need to take some time to get to know those new parts of ourselves, and each other. We'll be back, though,” she promised cheerfully.

The host's face became serious, however superficially, and he asked, “All of you?” There was a pause when the singer didn't answer, so he drove on, “Will Jocelyn return as drummer for Defy, considering the severity of her injury?”

This is when the red-head lost her patience, dropping the smile altogether and looking the man straight in the eye. “There is no Defy without Jocelyn; I imagine whatever tiny shred of common sense you have can fill in the blanks from there.”

He pulled back a little, clearing his throat and turning to face the camera. “All right, thanks for being with us today, Annette. Coming up after the break, we've got--”

Dr. Sara Browning clicked off her monitor, ending the video, and folded her fingers together on her desk. “I showed you this video when it aired last Fall,” she told her patient softly, “and you flipped out. How does it make you feel now?”

“'Flipped out,'” Jocelyn repeated with a strained smirk, “is that the clinical term?”

“How does it make you feel now?” Browning repeated, all too familiar with Jocelyn's attempts to distract her from emotional topics.

The drummer sighed and chewed on her thumbnail. “Anxious, I guess? Like there's a lot of pressure on me to be the one who says 'go' for the band.”

“And if you don't? Say 'go,' that is.”

Jocelyn thought a moment before deciding, “They'd support me, but they wouldn't replace me; they'd disband.”

Browning nodded, “I agree. So what you have to figure out is: Do you want back on the road so they don't throw away their careers, or because it's what you really want for yourself?”

“And how am I supposed to figure that out?” The drummer asked, in a rare moment of helplessness that registered fully in her voice.

The doctor was already scribbling something down onto her notepad. “I'm releasing you to tour,” she said easily, like it wasn't the thing everyone had been waiting to hear for the past seven months. “I want you to do one full rotation – recording, rehearsal, a small tour, the whole shebang – and decide at the end if it's still the life for you. If it is, you continue on. If not, you figure out where to go from there, and at least you guys made one last go of it.”

Jocelyn took a shaky breath, both ecstatic and terrified. “I can go back on the road?”

“Yes. As long as you keep doing your physical therapy exercises and taking your medications, I don't see why it should be a problem. But Jocelyn,” Browning leveled her with her gaze, “While you're out there, think carefully about why you do it, and if it's enough to keep you happy. Nobody else. Just you.”



There was a tap on the glass and the man on the other side gave a thumbs up just before a red light in the room turned on. Jocelyn tapped her fingers rapidly against her djembe before slowing it down to a slower pah pah pah-pah pah as Kal drummed her guitar and Deveraux plucked at his standing bass. Annette ran her bow across the strings of the violin she'd purchased in Texas a few years before, eliciting a bright, beautiful sound before dropping the instrument to her side and leaning into the microphone.

“I've got my Jim Stark jacket
and my blue jeans on
I'm gonna make my way
to the chickie run
And I'm trying, I'm trying
I'm trying to find a cause

I've got my Chevrolet rolling
with a full tank of gas
I'm not sure where I'm going
but I'm going fast
And I'm flying, I'm flying
I'm flying to find a cause

And you can call me crazy
but I'm standing tall
I've got my feet underneath me
even if I fall
And I'm a good girl by design
but it gives me pause
I may not be a rebel
still, I don't have a cause”

The light blinked a few times and they all slowly stopped playing before it turned off completely, and there was a little crackle as the intercom came to life. “That was great, guys,” Alessandria said on the other side of the glass, one hand on her fiance's shoulder as he fiddled with the dials on the mix table. She'd used the time off to learn a new trade: music production. She said that when Dacian got older, she couldn't be on the road doing lights all the time, so this was a great opportunity to learn something that people came to her for, instead of the other way around. She was still a little ways from being a pro, but Defy had granted her and Patrick the opportunity to work on their latest album so she could get more practice.

The intercom clicked off and they could see Patrick pointing to a few things, getting her opinion on certain snippets of tracks, letting her adjust the slides, before they shared a quick kiss and Alessandria addressed them again. “We're going to go to the bridge now, and if we can get this last take right, I think we'll be done.”

The red light came back on and Jocelyn smiled to herself as she tapped out the beat. If the rest of Browning's “full rotation” went like the last couple months of recording had, there would be no question about her returning for good. It was effortless.



Erica held up a finger and then went back to sketching something on her page, angling the sketchbook in a different way so she could add a few details. “Oooookay,” she said slowly, tucking the pencil behind her ear and looking up, “what did you say?”

Khaye tucked her ankles underneath her chair and leaned forward, “I asked if you were almost done. We have to get the design concepts in for approval in a few hours.”

“Sorry,” the artist said insincerely. “It's my first time being tapped for the album cover and the merch and the set banner design, on a one-week deadline.”

“You know this whole thing is being rushed,” Khaye told her sympathetically. “Jocelyn wants to get on the road, the band wants her to get what she wants, and the fans just want Defy back.”

Erica fiddled with the edge of her paper and looked out the window, choosing her words carefully. “Is this tour going to be okay?” She asked. “I mean, is it going to be our Defy? Or something different?”

The manager shrugged, frowning, “It's hard to say. I haven't seen Jocelyn much since...since it happened, so I don't know where she is. But the fact that she's even willing to get back out there says a lot, and I think we should try to go on like usual.”

Erica nodded in agreement, then ripped out her page and handed it to Khaye, “Here. I'll get started on digitizing so we don't lose time waiting for the approval to come through.”



Kal fiddled with the camera she'd been given by the label and asked, not for the first time, “Are you sure you're okay with this, Joce? Dad said we didn't have to if--”

“It's really not a big deal,” Jocelyn said, not for the first time. “We've always done updates like this.”

The guitarist shrugged uncomfortably and pressed the record button, “We're on.”

“Hey, Nowhere Kids!” Annette chirped, waving enthusiastically to the camera, “We've got some big news for you!” There was a near-inaudible whirring sound as Kal zoomed out to reveal the long, white van behind them. “We're hitting the road again!”

There was a sudden deafening roar as the Defy crew and a few other musicians from other bands popped out from behind the van and cheered, then quickly ducked back to their hiding spots.

“Yep,” Deveraux picked up with a nod. “This summer we're heading out for an all-acoustic tour with some of our closest friends!”

There was a pause before Jocelyn realized it was her turn to speak. “Um, yeah! All Time Low, Hey Monday, and Fall Out Boy will be joining us on the road, as well as some new friends.”

“We Are The In Crowd!” Annette shouted, throwing her arms out wide. “Five bands, six weeks – check out the dates on our website and then grab our iTunes-exclusive acoustic album, The Wrong Generation!”

Kal swung the camera around so it was on her face, “There are also some more cool announcements to come, so be sure you're subscribed to our YouTube channel. See you on the road!” She fiddled with the buttons again and then crammed the camera into her purse, smiling with unguarded excitement, “And we're clear.”

Alex Gaskarth walked around the van and put an arm around Annette, pulling her into his chest and reaching out to grab Jocelyn's shoulder. “Two weeks, and you guys are back on the road,” he informed them, like they weren't thinking the exact same thing already. “Excited?”

“Beyond belief,” his girlfriend replied with a happy sigh, resting her head in the crook of his neck. “Joce?”

For the first time, her nerves were starting to get to her, but she was determined to force them back. “Thrilled,” she said, ignoring the fact that it was only partially true.