Chapter 27: Rock Stars Make Up With A Song

Trace

"Get off!" I throw Leed at the same time Adam shirks Bodie again. Adam and I meet in the middle of the floor. He has two inches and twenty pounds of muscle on me, but I'm a much meaner son-of-bitch in a fight.

"You punched me!" he yells.

"Well, Mac punched me!" I grimace. "And slapped me, and scratched the shit out of me! And slapped me some more!" I wipe the blood from my cheek with the edge of a finger and rub it on my jeans "I couldn't very well punch her back, could I? If you bed down with a brawler, you better be prepared to take a beating for her."

We glare at each other for a minute.

Suddenly, the tension breaks and we start to laugh at each other.

"You right," Adam says. "Jesus, I didn't know she could throw a right hook like that."

"She hits harder than Kat's ex," I comment dryly. It's not really true...Dickwad packs a punch. But Mac caught me completely off guard.

"Fuck," I swear. "I did not mean to shove her like that. I just...somebody hits me and it flips my switch. She kept coming at me and I had to get her off me before I did hit her..."

Adam shakes his head. "Nah man, I know. Sorry I went after you like that. I felt the same way when you pushed her...I lost it."

We clap hands, slap backs. It's all good, between us. But with me and Mac? Shit, I dunno. I look around for her. Where'd she go?

Bodie groans as he inspects  the suite. It was trashed from Leed's tantrum, but Adam and I managed to destroy a floor lamp and there's a crack in the wall where Leed shoved me against it. "Damn, you asshats earned your rock star pay today," Bodie narrows his eyes at me, " Do I even want to know what set Mac on you like that? Cause if you said some shit about Tamara..."

I shake my head quickly, "You know I love Tams. It wasn't that..." I look at Adam, guiltily. I shouldn't have said that to Leed, about Mac having a false alarm. Telling Bodie just makes it worse.

"We all said some shit about Mac, and she must have overheard it," Leed says coming back in the suite. I hadn't even realized he'd gone after her. "She's gone."

"What?" Adam says. "She's not in our suite?"

Leed shakes his head. "I just checked. Her phone, her wallet are gone."

Adam is already calling her. "She's not answering." Then he calls John—she didn't take him with her.

Leed is freaking. "We have to find her. Where would she even go? I can't fucking believe she'd run away like this...Hell, what the fuck city are we even in?" " He swings around, like he doesn't even know where he is. He's really unbalanced right now.

"Louisville." Adam points out the balcony to the view of the Ohio River, "She probably went for a walk down by the Riverfront to cool off. "But I don't like the idea that she might get recognized and swarmed...so let's get the security guys and we'll...find her." Adam puts a hand on Leed's chest. "When we do...be cool. She's not a child that's run away from home. She's a grown-ass woman, and that shit she heard..it was wrong...and offensive. You'd probably punch somebody too, if you heard them say you couldn't handle your shit." Adam is surprisingly calm. I have to give him credit, he deals with Mac's freak-outs way better than Leed or I do.

Five minutes later we've got our hats and sunglasses and four security guys and we are leaving the lobby one at a time so as not to call attention. Adam and the security guys have a plan for checking the riverfront and Riley is on alert to let us know if she comes back to the hotel.

I have a different idea where Mac might be. Leed and Adam both think they've cornered the market on Mac's moods, but over the past five years, I've spent more time with Mac than the two of them combined. We are all up in each other's heads when we write songs. We spill our guts to each other lyrically. It's a different level than the ties that she and Leed share, or the feelings she and Adam share, but Mac and me...well, I know how she thinks, and how she reacts.

I catch an Uber and find her exactly where I expect to—at the stadium where we are playing tonight. On her keys, working up a new song.

I pick up an acoustic and improvise a couple of different backing rhythms. She ignores me for awhile, but when I hit on something we both know works, she looks at me and say, "Yeah, play that lick again," and as I do, she adds a few sixteenth notes between the downbeats.

"That's nice," I say and we play it again, working out the basic skeleton of verse and chorus. It still needs an intro and a bridge, but apparently Mac is satisfied with what we accomplished. She breaks abruptly and puts a pencil to some sheet music. I see her eyes narrow in irritation as she tries to grip the pencil. I go sit beside her, watching her write music. I shoot off a text to Andy to have one of the guys bring some ice.  When she tries to play again, I pull her right hand into mine.

"Rest that moneymaker. And we need to ice it down. Can't have you messing up the performance tonight."

She laughs. "Of course not. Can you believe some bitch broke my hand on his face?"

I turn my head to show her my cheek. "Damn, Macaroni, you know the same shit happened to me today? Some asshole marred my rock star face with her claws."

She looks at me with those cool cat eyes like Leed's. "Actually, Trace, you look pretty hot busted up. You should text Kat a pic before you wipe all the blood off, and tell her I said you're welcome."

I laugh. "Ahhh, but then I would have to tell her what I did to deserve the mauling you gave me. And she'd be disappointed in me—for acting like a complete misogynistic douchebag."

Mac is still staring at me with the cat eyes. Then she shrugs and plays a few notes with her left hand. "You have a right to your opinions. It just hurts --what you guys really think of me...that I'm crazy, that I'm a liability to the band, that one day I might want to have a family and that will fuck our shit up."

"You heard it all, huh?" I grimace.

She nods and keeps playing with her left hand as I keep hold of her right.

"Okay so, first, I was high, and you know how I run my mouth when I'm high. I'll say any fucking stupid thing that comes into my head, without thinking it through to see if I actually feel the truth of  the shit I'm talking. Kind of like you'll say any fucking thing to lash out at somebody when you are pissed off."

She bites back a smile. "That is true." She looks at me. "You're still high, though..."

"Not as high," I object. "Your mauling and then Adam pounding me brought me down a little. Speaking of our fight, I'm really sorry I shoved you like that. I can't believe I fucking did that...I know you have trigger issues and I'm really fucking sorry."

Mac tucks her arm beneath mine . "I was in the wrong. I was having a panic attack over the conflict with Leed and Tamara, and then I let it spiral, standing there listening to you guys. I knew what was happening—I could feel myself losing it. I should have walked away or made my presence known. Instead, I gave in to listening to the things you were saying and gave in to the way it made me feel and I...I lost it all over you. I'm sorry, too, for hitting you. That was really...wrong of me. I know...you have triggers, too."

We don't talk about this shit, because we are both a little bit damaged, and I'm afraid...if we go down that rabbit hole together, with our songwriting, we might dig too deep and the hole we dig might collapse in on us.

"You're right, I do. So that's why I understand. I know you aren't crazy, Mac," I assure her. "Well, at least no crazier than I am."

"That's not saying much, Trace," she mumbles automatically, and I laugh.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing we both have lovers to keep us sane." It's true. Kat shaped me as a person. If it weren't for watching out for her growing up, I would have been a completely reckless, angry, violent teenager. Kat was the rock that kept me grounded in decency, just like Adam is the rock that keeps Mac grounded in kindness.

"Yeah, that's true." She still playing softly with her left hand. She's playing the bass cleft of first song she and I ever wrote together—Liars Last. It's a song about why denial is a survival skill.

"Do you ever look back at these songs and think how self-absorbed and angsty we were at seventeen/eighteen?" she asks.

"Nah," I shrug. "I figure I'll wait til thirty and feel that way about everything we write in this decade...save time."

She laughs again. A guy named Mitch brings the ice and we tape it around her hand.

"Mac, if you can't play tonight, don't sweat it," I tell her.

"I can play," she assures me.

"Thank god, because we couldn't do this without you," I assure her. "I mean it, Mac. Don't ever think you are a liability to this band. You are our biggest asset. That day you came to practice—everything changed. You bring the spark. We wouldn't be here without you, and I couldn't write these songs without you, and the band...we would never...do this without you."

She doesn't react like I thought she would. I said it to show her how important she is, to the show, as a part of the performance. To me, as a songwriting partner and my friend. To the band as a critical member. I thought it would make her feel...valued, but instead she covers her face with her hands...sort of awkwardly, considering the ice pack...

Shit. She's crying. Normally I would tag out and let Leed handle this...or Adam, now that they are together...but I'm no fucking coward. I have a girlfriend and an ex-wife, and two sisters now. Neither Kat nor Ashlynn have Mac's atomic potential but if I can deal with Row...I can deal with Mac.

I pat her gently on the back. "I'm so sorry I hurt your feelings with the stuff I said."

She nods. "It hurts to know you guys think I'm...incompetent, or a child or something. That I can't take of a...of myself."

"Macaroni, I don't think that. I don't think Leed thinks that either. But you're his sister so he feels protective of you, and I...you know...I have issues. With women I care about being hurt. It comes from my...childhood shit."

She pats me on the arm to let me know she understands, and we don't have to talk about that. I continue.

"So what happened to you last year...it wound me up, just like Leed. It makes us both want to keep you safe. We can't help it, Mac. At heart, all of us guys are just fucking cave men. So in this band of cavemen, we see you like...the most unique woman around our fire—you know?" I gesture around the stage.

"Yeah, that's right. This stage...it's the heartfire of our tribe. And you are our Priestess—the most unique woman among all our women. The one with the magic. So we feel this...need, to guard you like the prize you are." I'm really getting into it now. "Adam is the lucky cavefuck that won the Priestess's heart, and it took us a while to get used to that...but we're cool with it, now. It's okay that you sneak off with him and make a different kind of magic, because you always come back to the fire. But the thing is...one day Adam is going to lure you into his cave...and you're going to decide to stay. You know that, right?"

Mac rolls her eyes, and shrugs. "Maybe."

"Well...we're just worried that you'll only want to make the magic for him, and not for the tribe. And we don't want to lose your power. You are special, Priestess. We'll do whatever it takes to make sure you always want to stay by our fire." I'm really inspired now, so I gesture around the stage again, and I kiss her hand. Well, I kiss the icepack on top of her hand.

Mac smiles...that real sweet smile...the one that hooked Adam that first night...the one she hardly ever shows anyone but him. If I get that smile, I'm dancing a little victory dance inside, because I know I'm out of the dog house.

"You are still so fuckin' high, Trace."

I grin. "I make my best metaphors like that." I tap the sheet music on top of the piano. "You don't have any lyrics set yet, do you?" I ask her.

"For that, no."

"Dibs," I say. I write the name Priestess at the top of the sheet music, then jot a quick line to help me remember the feel, later...

She spills her magic—sure in sound

Raptured, her men bow down

Without her, no life, no breath

No pride, no love, no worthy death

I put my arm around her. She leans her head on my shoulder. We sit in silence for awhile. I know we are good. We are no longer sparring partners, but songwriting partners again. Soundcrush is stable. Leed might soon be a baby-daddy, but he can deal, and we will help him. As long as our Priestess works her magic, we can survive anything.

So....here we see the vulnerable side of Trace again. There's the guy we all love! Why can't he be like that all the time? I guess because he's got  a band to run. I'm really glad to see the inner workings of Trace's and Mac's partnership because we haven't seen that yet...

He really admires and respects his "Priestess."  Yet at the same time Trace is trying to express that to Mac, I think he may actually be putting more pressure on her feelings about the band vs. baby debate....what do you think?

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