Your History of Silence

Joel called in sick that Thursday. Even though he usually played in casual dress, he tried a little harder than usual. He wore his only pair of jeans without holes in the knees and a black shirt with a collar. To make it seem more punk, though, he put on a brightly colored tie. Hopefully that would shut Benji up if he wondered why he was dressed nicer than usual.

He arrived at The Pour House with fifteen minutes to spare and found Billy already at the bar, talking to Chuck.

“Hot water?” Joel asked as he sat down. Chuck nodded and went to get his drink.

“You’re early,” Billy noted.

“Called in sick.”

“You picked a good night for it.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The band before us backed out. We get to do two songs.”

“Wow, that’s great!”

“Yeah, but Benji’s running late.”

“Justice,” Joel muttered.

Billy grinned. “You gonna give him hell?”

“Nah. I’ll take the high road. He’ll know I’m thinking it, though.”

As though summoned by the mention of his name, Benji burst into the bar just then, looking out of breath. As he approached the table, Billy said, “Well, look who decided to show up.”

“Screw you, it’s a long walk,” huffed Benji.

“Hot water and lemon,” said Chuck, returning to the bar just then and setting a glass down in front of Joel. “Someone was asking about you earlier.”

“Someone you know?” asked Joel.

“Nah. Some girl. Blonde. Looks a little young for you.”

“What was her name?” Joel asked impatiently. Billy was looking at him curiously.

“Um...Carrie. Carly. Something like that.”

“Where did she go?”

“I don’t know. It’s a busy place. I can’t keep track of everyone.”

Joel muttered under his breath and turned in his chair, looking around anxiously. The bar was more crowded than usual. The GC groupies were already occupying the table closest to the stage, chattering eagerly and fiddling with their spiked bracelets and chains. A group of middle-aged women were occupying the only two booths in the place, obviously celebrating someone getting a promotion or something like that. He leaned further out of his chair, looking toward the raised seating area on the other side of the bar.

There she was. He could see her platinum hair from here, pulled up into a thick, messy bun at the base of her neck. He quickly got up and headed her direction, trying to ignore the fact that Billy and Benji had also gotten up and were following him. Charlotte turned just then, spotted Joel, and quickly stood up. She looked somewhat out of place in the hazy bar, dressed in a mid-thigh length dress in bubblegum pink, a cropped leather jacket, and black flats.

He looked at her for a moment, then his eyes drifted to the people who had just stood up behind her. One was a man he’d never seen before, with dark hair and a salt-and-pepper beard, dressed in a casual suit and carrying a drink that had a slice of pineapple on the brim.

The other was a girl, and she almost made Joel stop in his tracks. She was tan and slender, garbed in leather shorts, a blue button-up, and classic Converse. Her dirty-blonde hair was free and fell to her waist and her legs were long and toned. Like Charlotte, her face was heart-shaped and she had blue eyes, but hers were darker, almost gray, with that same green tint to them. Her nose was slightly upturned at the tip and her lips were pulled up, giving the impression of a permanent smile.

Her smile slipped as her eyes passed over Joel and landed on one of the men behind him. She made eye contact with one of them and shook her head, but he heard Benji say loudly, “Vienna?”

The man, looking briefly down at Vienna, cocked an eyebrow and said, “You know this man, Vienna?”

“Um, yes,” Vienna admitted. “Dad, this is Benji. I met him the other night.”

“Really?” he asked, looking from Vienna to Charlotte. “You both met people on the same night?”

“I guess so.”

“Wait, you’re seeing Joel’s brother?” Charlotte asked Vienna. “What a coincidence!”

“You’re seeing Charlotte’s sister?” Joel asked Benji, a nasty feeling blossoming in his stomach. He couldn’t quite name the feeling, but he knew it wasn’t good.

“I didn’t know,” said Benji. “We met the other night outside Suzanne’s.”

“What were you doing outside the restaurant?” the man asked sternly.

“Nothing, Dad,” said Vienna, looking anywhere but his face.

“Wait, no way,” said Benji, suddenly excited. “You’re Robert Rousseau?”

“I am,” said Mr. Rousseau.

“Oh, wow! Dude, I’m such a fan! Really, your work is awesome! I can’t believe you’re here right now.”

“I’m here because my daughter was invited by this young man,” he said, looking at Joel. “You are Joel, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” Joel said quickly, reaching out to shake his hand. “Sorry this is so awkward.”

“I just want to make sure I have this right. So...you’re seeing my daughter, Charlotte?”

“Um, yes.” He wasn’t sure whether he was officially ‘seeing’ her, but he had asked her out and couldn’t think of a different answer that wouldn’t potentially get his ass kicked.

“And you,” Mr. Rousseau continued, turning to Benji, “are seeing my other daughter, Vienna?”

“Yes, sir,” said Benji, reaching out and putting a tattooed arm over Vienna’s shoulder. She looked incredibly uncomfortably at this turn of events.

His eyes lingered on Benji’s arm for a long moment, then he concluded, “And you two are brothers?”

“Twins,” Joel corrected, although he had never felt quite so different from Benji at that moment. He had dressed up, forsaken any eyeliner or chains, and Benji was standing there wear a ripped t-shirt, Dickies, DCs, and more facial piercings than everyone else in the bar put together.

There was a rather tense silence then that was finally broken when Billy cleared his throat, stepped up, and shook Mr. Rousseau’s hand. “I’m Billy. I play guitar in these idiots’ band.”

“What kind of music do you play?” Mr. Rousseau asked eagerly. He and Billy sat down at the table and began discussing music. Since he had invited her, Joel stepped closer to Charlotte and said, “Hey, you came.”

“You invited me,” she replied. “My father didn’t want me to come alone, though.”

“Yeah, I understand. Parents are protective,” he said, trying not to feel self-conscious about the fact that his date’s father was standing two feet away.

“So, when do you play?” she asked cheerfully.

“In just a few minutes, actually.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Joel looked over Charlotte’s shoulder, where he could see Benji in conversation with Vienna. That feeling flared up in his stomach, but he tried not to let it distract him. Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of a thing to say and found himself listening to Benji and Vienna’s whispered conversation—

“—wish you hadn’t said my name. My dad didn’t know I was even dating.”

“You’re an adult. I didn’t think it would matter. I was happy to see you.”

“I appreciate that, but you kinda got me in trouble.”

He reached out and put a hand on her hip, his voice lowering as he said, “I thought you were already trouble.”

Feeling sick, Joel put a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder and turned them so that his back was to Benji and Vienna. “So, um, how have you been?”

“I’ve been well. I’m excited to hear you play.”

“I don’t play. I just sing.”

“Well, that’s part of it. You look nice.”

He glanced down at his clothes. “Oh, thanks.”

“I like your tie,” she said with a shy smile, reaching to run her fingers over the silky fabric.

“Thanks. I like your, um, jacket.”

He forced himself to look at her leather jacket, but it reminded him of a different leather article, one covering a very nice body standing just behind him.

Stop it, he told himself. She’s your date’s sister. And your brother’s date. Boy, this could get confusing fast.

“Hey, it’s time,” Billy cut in. Joel thanked every god he could think of and quickly followed Billy to the stage. By the edge of the stage, Benji grabbed Joel and Billy and said harshly, “What are we gonna do? Robert Rousseau is here!”

“He likes songs with meaning,” Joel said, recalling what Charlotte had told him last Saturday.

“Well, Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous has meaning, but we can’t do that one! He is rich and famous! What would he think?”

“What about Seasons from the last album?” Billy suggested.

“No, we need something catchy.”

“Why don’t we just start with The Anthem? It’s a crowd-pleaser.”

“It doesn’t have a definitive meaning, though,” Joel pointed out. “It’s complaint rock.”

“Don’t call it that,” Benji groaned.

“Let’s open with Anthem,” Billy said calmly, “then close with Hold On.”

“We haven’t finished it,” said Joel, on the verge of panicking. “We don’t have a bridge.”

“Just sing whatever you think of. Or not at all. If you don’t start singing, I’ll throw in a solo.”

“Let’s do it!” said Benji excitedly.

Joel mumbled agreement and followed them onto the stage. He waved awkwardly in Charlotte’s direction, trying not to notice the way that Vienna was watching them. The guitars began to play and he took a deep breath before beginning the song.

It went off without a hitch, as usual, but then they went into the soft beginning of Hold On. Joel looked anxiously at the crowd. Charlotte and Vienna were watching with expressions of awe. Mr. Rousseau’s expression was blank, like he was intentionally trying to hide his emotions. Joel tried not to interpret that as he began to sing.

This world, this world is cold
But you don't, you don't have to go
You're feeling sad, you're feeling lonely
And no one seems to care
Your mother's gone and your father hits you
This pain you cannot bear

But we all bleed the same way as you do
And we all have the same things to go through

Hold on, if you feel like letting go
Hold on, it gets better than you know

The band was playing the best they ever had and his voice was insanely clear. When the bridge came around, he stepped back and Billy freestyled to cover the lack of vocals. Their group of fans was particularly generous with the applause as the song ended, hooting and cheering and the girls looking teary-eyed. Charlotte was hovering at the edge of the group, smiling but shooting nervous glances as the rowdy group to her right. Vienna was still seated next to her father, looking slightly sullen.

“You sing so well!” said Charlotte excitedly as Joel came down from the stage. “I didn’t realize my name was in your band’s name.”

“Maybe it was fate,” commented Benji, putting an arm over Joel’s and Charlotte’s shoulders. Charlotte looked mildly horrified at this and went as stiff as a board. Joel rolled his eyes at his brother and gave him a light shove, freeing Charlotte and himself from Benji’s arms. As soon as she was free, Charlotte moved to Joel’s side, obviously seeking protection. Her hands clutched at the fabric of his shirt and he put an arm around her.

Charlotte’s fear of his brother was admittedly adorable and Joel smiled as he led the way back toward where Robert and Vienna were sitting. He tried to look only at Robert, feeling as though looking at Vienna would somehow incriminate him.

“So what did you think?” Benji asked tactlessly. Joel cringed, waiting for Mr. Rousseau to say it was awful.

“I think you boys have some potential,” he said, looking at Billy rather than Benji or Joel. It probably made him uncomfortable to look at the men who were dating his daughters. It would certainly have made Joel uncomfortable if he was in Mr. Rousseau’s shoes. But, then, most things made Joel uncomfortable.

“I actually have our previous album,” said Billy, reaching into his bag and pulling out a CD in a glossy sleeve. “We recorded it last year and it’s pretty amateur, but it would give you an idea of our content. This is a mix I made, so the last two or three songs are actually ones we’ve written fairly recently. The first song we played is on here.”

“What about the second?” asked Robert. “The ‘Hold On’ song.”

“Well, it’s not quite finished. We’re still writing lyrics for the end of it.”

“Catchy songs sell,” said Robert thoughtfully. “But songs like that make your record well-rounded and give people more to talk about. Show me more songs like that and maybe we can talk about working together.”

“We’d all appreciate the opportunity,” said Billy gratefully. “And we will definitely send any new demos your way.”

Robert reached into his jacket and pulled out a small rectangle of paper. “Here’s my card. Girls,” he said, directing his attention to his daughters, “I’m going to have a drink at the bar. Then we should get going.”

“Yes, Daddy,” said Charlotte obediently.

“Sure,” said Vienna was a shrug. Joel tried not to admire her rebellious attitude, but failed miserably.

As Mr. Rousseau walked away, Benji grabbed Joel and Billy’s shoulders and pulled them into a semi-huddle. Vienna, who had been standing between Benji and Billy, found herself pulled into the huddle by proximity. Charlotte, still clinging to Joel’s side, was likewise hemmed in.

“This is awesome,” said Benji excitedly. “I think he liked us.”

“He liked you,” Vienna confirmed.

“Daddy likes to be more reserved with his opinions,” added Charlotte. “But he definitely liked you.”

“Awesome,” Benji said again. “We’ve got to write some kick-ass new songs to really lock this in.”

“Not kick-ass, but meaningful,” Joel corrected.

“They can be both. Wait, was Lifestyles on that CD?”

“Yup,” said Billy.

“Crap. Is it too late to get it back?”

“He’s not going to care.”

“He might,” said Joel nervously.

“What’s it about?” asked Vienna.

“Um...”

“’Lifestyles of the rich and famous/They’re always complaining/If money is such a problem/Well, they’ve got mansions/Think we should rob them,’” Billy quoted flatly.

“Oh, he won’t care,” said Vienna with a wave of her hand. “It’s our mom you should worry about.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see, because you and you have been invited to join us for dinner at our house this Sunday,” she said, indicating to Joel and Benji. “As our new boyfriends.”

“Yikes,” said Benji, exchanging a knowing look with Joel. “Should we be scared?”

“No, our mother is lovely,” interjected Charlotte, giving her sister a pointed look.

“Just...” Vienna looked at Benji with a frown, which slowly changed into a smile. “Just be yourselves. I’m sure she’ll love you.”

Joel looked at Benji and knew they were both thinking the same thing: what have we gotten ourselves into?