I will give you the benefit of the doubt, but if I think for one second you’re on the journey down the rabbit hole, I won’t hesitate to tell your father—”
“There ain’t nothin’ to tell! I swear it! Music is my high. It’s all I need.”
He sighed, his chest rising and falling.
“Listen, man, it means a lot you showed up today. Please don’t let this fuck up our relationship. Tonight isn’t ’bout my band’s bad decisions. Tonight is ’bout my opportunity to show what I’m made of, and that’s what I need to focus on right now. I don’t have a drug problem. It was there, and I tried it a few times. End. Of. Story.”
He didn’t say anything for several seconds, debating on whether or not to believe me.
“Austin, I swear to you on my momma’s life I don’t fuck around wit’ that shit.”
“Promise me,” he firmly stated in a clipped tone, “if you need someone to call ... to talk to, to be there for you in whatever situation or place you may find yourself in. If it isn’t your dad or your mom, then you make it be me. I don’t give a fuck where you are, what you’re doing, or who you’re with. If you’re in trouble, if you need someone. You. Call. Me.”
I nodded.
“Promise me. I need to hear you say it.”
“I promise, but like I been harpin’, you got nothin’ to worry ’bout.”
He eyed me up and down, slowly backing away. “Don’t make me regret this, Cash.” Taking one last look at me, he reluctantly turned and left.
I stood there for a few minutes to catch my bearings. Never in a million years expecting that to go down between us. I’d always admired and respected Austin. I just wished he’d trust me a little more.
When did I lose people’s trust?
“You ready?” Gunner questioned, snatching my attention over to him. “I think I just saw your old man.”
“What?”
“Yeah. I think it was him.”
“Where?”
“Fuck, I don’t know. Over there.” He nodded a few feet away from where Austin and I were arguing.
Was he here? Did he hear us? Did he see Travis and Gunner?
Question after question tore through my mind at full speed.
“No way. He wouldn’t be here. This is the last place he’d ever be.”
“Whatever, bro.”
I blew Gunner off, not paying him any mind. He was coked out and rambling, unaware of what he was even saying.
He wouldn’t show up for you, Cash. You know that. When has he ever showed up for you?
By the time we were announced onto the stage, the sun was setting over the horizon. Darkness settled over us while we performed.
I belted into the microphone, “What must I do for you to see me?” as I effortlessly strummed my guitar.
The strobe and stage lights were in full effect, pulsing to the bass of my lyrics. Completely amplifying the synergy of me and the crowd.
We were one.
I was taking them on a journey with me.
The flashes of the strobes made the crowd look like snapshots while I sang. My mind spurring memories of when I first wrote this song.
The hurt.
The pain.
The loneliness.
Were still alive inside of me—festering, tormenting, breathing new life into me.
I used it...
The emotions.
Playing me as I played my guitar. Behind every song was a story of the person who created it. You could hear it in my voice, see it in my performance, experience it with me in this moment in time. I hid behind my guitar, but the music and the rhythm always found its way into the deepest parts of my soul.
Stripping me bare, I gave it my all.
And when I sang the last verse in our performance, the crowd felt it too. Begging, dying, needing...
More.
“One more song! One more song! One more song!” they chanted, going fuckin’ crazy.
For me.
“Cash! Cash! Cash!”
“Rockfest, I will forever remember this moment! Thank you!” Bringing my hands together, I signaled the gesture for more in sign language.
Grinning.
Journey was somewhere in the audience, knowing it was just for her.
“Thank you!” I yelled into the microphone again.
The endorphins.
The adrenaline.
The rush of it all.
Stepping off the stage, I walked in a trance-like state. Not for one second longing to let it go.
My senses were running wild as the crowd continued their frenzied hoots and hollers, riding the high for as long as I could.
So it took me a minute to process when I heard, “You have the right to remain silent.”
My heart fuckin’ dropped.
Four cops grabbed ahold of Gunner and Travis.
“What the fuck?”