isXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX calling me on a Saturday night; usually he’s performing at Aces.
“What’s up, Brady?” I answer the phone.
“Thank God you picked up,” he says, his voice panicked.
“What’s wrong? Something with…” I match his tone with worry.
“No, nothing like that. Can you come down to Aces and…bring your guitar?” he asks, his voice doubtful.
“No way! Why?”
“Please, Grant. Rob left the band to join some guys that got invited on a tour. We already booked here tonight. I don’t want to cancel. It’s not fair to the bar.” I hear his desperate tone, like always, I cave.
“Sure. But I have to warn you, I haven’t played in a while. Not to mention, I don’t know a lot of your songs,” I admit.
“You’re talented, Grant. You’ll catch the beat fast. Just get here as quickly as you can. We’re supposed to be on in ten.” He hangs up the phone but not before I hear some screaming in the background.
By the time I arrive at the bar, Sadie is massaging Brady’s shoulders on stage, while Trey and Dex sit next to them, patiently waiting for me. I don’t see Jessa anywhere. I can’t help but wonder how she’s taking the news, whether she’s at home crying or worse, following him on tour. Making my way over to the stage, I sidestep through the crowd who gives me a once-over, clearly confused by my presence.
“Awesome! Thanks, man.” Trey pushes off the stage and holds his hand out.
“You’re welcome. I just hope I play alright,” I say, shaking his hand. Trey and I couldn’t be more opposite. His tattooed and pierced body with a black tank top and baggy jeans is completely different than my usual khakis and polo. Tonight I wore jeans and a t-shirt to attempt to look less preppy. Regardless, Trey has always been welcoming and friendly to me.
“Oh, you’ll do just fine. Brady has nothing but good things to say about your playing,” he says, and I quirk my lip up and look over at Brady, who laughs. He would brag about my skills because he was my teacher, along with his dad.
“Believe me, he can play,” Brady clasps my shoulder, leading us up on stage.
“I don’t know, Brady. I’m rusty as hell,” I confess.
“You’ll be fine. I wrote most of the songs so you know them already. I’ll give you the heads up on chords,” he says, hooking up my guitar to the amplifier. I guess I don’t have a choice now. “And Grant?” I look up from tuning my strings. “Thank you. What’s that, a million paybacks I owe you?” he asks, his voice full of gratitude.
“You don’t owe me anything. Glad I could help,” I say and smile at him, he grins back. If someone would’ve told me six months ago that I’d share a stage with Brady Carsen, I would’ve laughed them out of the room. But I’m thankful to have him back in my life. It actually makes me feel like I have family again, since he’s always been like a brother to me.
Brady takes the microphone from the stand and winks down at Sadie, who remains in the round booth to the right. She’s alone, and I wonder if Jessa is usually by her side during The Invisibles’ gigs. Sadie smiles brightly up at Brady and then turns to me, giving me a thumbs up. Brady turns my way with a reassuring smirk, and then I hear Trey hit his drumsticks together to establish the beat behind me and my stomach drops.
I follow Dex’s chords until I find the correct mixtures. Brady backs up from the stage and whispers specific instructions to me. Before I realize it, I’ve found the groove. I know I’m not as good as Rob, but I’m pulling it off as best I can. After two songs, I remember how much I love playing music. How you
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