Page 46 of More Than Scars
“So not true, Mom,” Twila fired back. I missed their playful banter.
“Mom, Dad, this is Bowie. Bowie, these are my parents, Bob and Gail Darren.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” Bowie held his hand out to shake, but Mom wasn’t having that and drew him into a hug.
“Sorry, she’s a hugger.” Not much taller than Twila, but the woman had an iron grip.
“Bowie, nice to meet you.” Dad shook his hand. “You are quite a talented musician. The music is a bit louder than what I’m used to, but you are really good. Did Pressley tell you I was in a garage band in high school?”
Bowie looked at me and smiled. I rolled my eyes, and Twila sang, “Your eyes are gonna get stuck like that.” We all laughed when Mom bopped the back of her head.
“Bowie might have mentioned it, but I’m sure I didn’t get the full story. Why don’t you tell me, sir?”
“There will be none of that sir nonsense. Please, call me Bob. You know, you’re the first boy our Pressley has ever brought home.” Dad led him inside, leaving the three of us in the front yard.
“I think your father has a new friend,” Mom smiled. “Come on in, son. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”
The evening had only just begun, and I already knew, based upon the interaction between Bowie and my parents, that I’d do anything to keep him.
Forever.
Chapter Nineteen
Bowie
I lasted six whole days before I called Easton to speak to him about therapy and to talk to him about why I felt I needed it.
Like six nights of almost no sleep, though I had managed to stay in the bed and at least lie down and try to get my mind to relax so Tony and Pressley wouldn’t freak out completely. Tony told me he’d warned Pressley about how bad my insomnia got. I couldn’t even be mad; he’d beenright to do that, especially with the journey we’d just embarked on. It wasn’t just about me anymore; it was for the good of the band and making sure that I was in the best shape I could be when I got up on stage with them.
And okay, that almost panic attack when the glass shattered in the club had been eye-opening, especially after the night that followed.
The other thing that had pushed me in that direction was the dinner with Pressley’s parents, who’d been warm, amazing, and welcoming throughout the whole evening we’d spent with them. Even his sister, who absolutely needed a censor button like I did, had been nothing but cool. I’d nearly torpedoed my relationship with Pressley by freaking out and refusing to go, all because my scars had become the only part of myself I ever thought about. It wasn’t fair, to myself or him, that I weighed everything I thought and did on them.
And yeah, the other part of my panic was the thought of going back to Eugene and having people I’d grown up around see what had happened to me. I may have done my best to keep it as hush-hush as possible, insisting that my family didn’t talk about it to anyone, which made it a lot easier for me not to talk about it ever.
Only that had never worked for me, even less so now, so fixing it was the only option. Honestly, I was relieved when Easton and I switched from texting to talking, though I’d been reluctant at first. Hearing him say that my taking the steps to work it out now, in the beginning of my journey with Masterson, showed him a maturity that he was pleased to see had made it easier to open up to him about everything, including the truth about how I’d come to be at auditions. That it had all been Tony’s doing, because I’d never have had the courage to do something like that on my own.
But you found it the first time you got up and performed with Imminent.
There was seriously nothing I could say to refute that.
Maybe because you never really lost it, you just buried it beneath those scars.
Oh, ouch, okay, well, he’d nailed that in one.
The whole idea of spilling my guts to a stranger was one I was still struggling to wrap my head around, though I doubted they’d feel that way for long with two sessions a week scheduled for the foreseeable future. Tony looked far too smug when I told him I’d finally started talking to someone, but I guess he wasowed that. At least I’d gotten two under my belt before tonight, because in just a few minutes we’d be taking the stage in Eugene, with a couple of my siblings in attendance and who the hell else I knew. I made the last-minute decision to tie my hair back as we headed out there, so I wouldn’t have to dread this moment the next time we rolled through.
Holy shit, the place was packed. As in to the fuckin’ rafters, and yeah, it was a multi-band show, so it wasn’t like we were the cause of all the fanfare, but it would still be one of the biggest venues I’d ever played. Last night in Portland had been the first, and damn, we took to the stage in Eugene riding high on the memory of that.
Every song flowed, ours and the covers. We’d started alternating between the two in preparation for Rocktoberfest. By the time we reached the desert, the final set list would be finalized, and then there would be nothing to do but nail it, the way we did tonight.
Looking out over that crowd, I was just amazed to be a part of the moment. To my left, I spotted a sign with my name on it, but all I could see of the person who held it up was multicolored hair.
Bowie kissed me in high school!The sign read.
Well, that could be any number of guys, but damn, it was pretty fuckin’ awesome to see.
Bowie sat beside me in homeroom!Was on another sign, and I nodded in that direction and grinned, because yeah, any of the four people it might have been had been truly awesome, and I was glad I wasn’t in the crowd tonight. The other sign just had my name in glitter that sparkled whenever one of the strobe lights hit it. Tony’s name was on several too. Guess wewerethe hometown heroes who’d done good, at least so far.