by M. A. Hinkle
“Oh, I wasn’t sure if you were done.” Felix messed with his bracelets. “I guess I understand why people look at me funny when I talk. It’s hard to tell when it’s your turn. But I’m also used to getting interrupted, so…” His mouth turned down, and he turned his face away. “Listen, I was trying to avoid the whole subject of Morgan, okay? It wasn’t a big deal, and I want to skip to the part where we’re all friends and happy and stuff.”
I moved into his line of sight. “The same way you want to skip straight to the part where no one asks you how you’re feeling about your mom?”
Felix bit his lip, hard, and said, “I thought you said you were a bad person to talk to,” but there was no heat behind it.
“I guess…I guess I’m trying to change. And I’m still crap at it, but I know there’s something else going on, and I’m an idiot. If I know, your friends definitely know. So why aren’t you being honest with them?”
Felix pushed his hands into his hair. Here I didn’t think he could make it any weirder and wilder. His expression wasn’t frustrated, exactly—more sad. He put his hands down and took a step toward me; I made myself stay put, although my instinct was to make room for the Holy Spirit. “If I tell you the truth, you have to promise me you won’t tell the rest of the band. Which includes Morgan, okay?”
“I find it touching and also sad how you believe I would talk to your friends when you weren’t there, as though they don’t only tolerate me for my brother’s sake. And I refuse to promise if you’re super depressed or something. Morgan’s been seeing a therapist for long enough. I know all about mandatory reporting.”
Felix stared like I’d started speaking in Klingon. (Wrong twin again.) “I’m not sad. I mean—I am sad, but average sad. Healthy sad. And it’s not the point. The point is—” He set his cheek on his hand. “There’s a good reason I have a hard time talking to my friends. It’s not just because I want them to be happy and not bother them. It’s… I was never supposed to be the lead singer, okay? It was Sebastian.”
It took me a second to place the name. “Wait, the third triplet? I was starting to doubt he existed.”
“He exists. And he used to be one of my best friends.” Felix’s expression wasn’t sour, exactly. On anyone else, it would have been mildly distressed, but it was the saddest I’d ever seen him. “He doesn’t talk to Zach or Alex anymore because he used to be the lead. I wasn’t even in the band—it was the triplets’ thing, and they only brought Sarah in because they needed a drummer. Then Seb just…stopped and went off to boarding school, and I was the only one who would sing. And. They’ve always been my best friends. But I’m also the youngest, and I know—I know I’m not supposed to be up there.”
He paused, biting his lip. “It’s good in some ways. I’m white, so people talk to me and aren’t all gross and racist at the triplets and Sarah. But I would’ve done it anyway, without them losing their brother. So…so that’s why.”
I hadn’t expected a bombshell. I’d assumed the triplets were fighting for no real reason, the way families do. Thank God Felix didn’t see me. I couldn’t handle the cute puppy dog eyes right now. Actually, I couldn’t handle them at all, but it wasn’t the point. “Have you told any of them how you feel?”
Felix shook his head. “Otherwise, why would I say not to tell? Anyway, I dunno how. They all act fine with the band the way it is, and I can’t mention Sebastian around them. The triplets were so different when he wasn’t being a jerk. Zach talked more, and Alex didn’t just bury his head in music. I…I don’t want to make it worse. Losing him hurt me, so I can’t imagine how it feels to be his brother.”
I forced myself to study him so I could be sure I’d say…well, not something helpful, because I was pretty sure I was just making his life crappier. But he deserved the best I could give him. “You told me, didn’t you?” It came out softly. You know. As if I gave a shit.
I kept talking before I could backtrack. “I know for a fact your friends are better at handling this kind of crap than I am. And—they deserve the whole truth, not part of it. Unless you want to lose them along with Sebastian.”
Felix lifted his eyes finally, studying my face. “You’re right, and we both know it. I’m just being dumb.” Again, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. “Why do you always look at me like you’re waiting for me to yell at you?”
Finally, an excuse to break eye contact. “Because I keep waiting for the minute when you realize I am not one of your charming, eclectic friends. I don’t fit in here. I don’t fit in anywhere.”
“And what I keep telling you is I think you’re fine.” Felix picked at his bracelets. “I guess it makes me naive, but whatever. I’m tired of people saying so as if it’s a bad thing. Being happy is a lot of work. Especially with all this junk going on.”
“Look, if I’ve learned anything, it’s pretending you don’t feel things is a terrible idea which will get you in trouble.”
Felix blinked. “What have you been pretending not to feel? I mean, besides the whole ‘I’m a super tough guy’ thing. That part was obvious.”
I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. Just—when this is all done, make sure you tell your friends the truth, or… I was going to try and threaten you, but I can’t think of any activities you wouldn’t enjoy.”
Felix smiled—only a little, but it was real, and it made me want to crush my own heart with my hands. “See, you do understand me. This is the part where I’d hug you, but you wouldn’t appreciate it.”
I took a preemptive step back, in case he changed his mind. “If you hugged me, I’d melt. I’m basically the Wicked Witch, but my makeup’s not as good.”
“We’ve danced together, so I guess it comes to the same thing.”
I did not want to think of dancing when we were alone in a small, soundproofed booth. I cleared my throat. “There’s a lot to unpack there, but sadly, we don’t have the time. I remember something about Sarah and murdering me if I don’t do this right?”
“She wouldn’t actually murder you. But her disappointed face is almost as bad.” Felix wasn’t back at full incandescent cheerfulness yet, but he didn’t seem to be carrying anything as heavy either. It was good to see.
Felix adjusted a few things on the laptop and handed me a pair of headphones. “Here, I’ll play you the song. You should be able to hear your part, but if not, I can play you the low pieces by themselves. It’s, uh. It’s still pretty rough.”
He took out his phone when I put the headphones on, but he was still watching me. I tried to keep my face blank—I hadn’t heard anything by his band yet, after all. What if it wasn’t any good?
The song started quiet and slow, with lyrics about not knowing where you fit within your community. The music sped up to a frenetic pace until the first chorus, when Felix slowed down, singing about giving yourself space to figure out who you were. On the second verse, more voices joined in—well, Felix’s voice dubbed up and down. The song built back up to a frenzy, with faster drum parts and more guitar as Felix sang the chorus more confidently. When he hit the final note, the rest of the song faded out, drifting back to violins playing the melody at a stately, relaxed pace.
I nudged the headphones down off my ears, glad I was slouching because. Well. Morgan said they were good, but I wasn’t expecting this good. Sketchy around the edges, yeah, but the vibe was there, a live recording of a rock concert.
“It still needs a lot of work.” Felix was trying to be casual and failing spectacularly. “But you get the idea, right?”
I nodded, because I would say something dumb if I tried to respond. And not dumb like, Eh, it was all right or I guess it was fine. Dumb like, Holy Jesus, I feel things for the first time in my life. Dumb like, How the fuck do you do that with your voice, you could knock me over with a feather right now. Yes, okay, Felix probably wanted to know his art made people feel things, even trash people, but he didn’t need to know what those feelings were. Ever. At all.
“Did you catch your part
?” Felix asked. I nodded again. “Okay, cool. I’ll step out, and then you hit play. It’ll play your part one more time to make sure you get it, then there’ll be four clicks, and there’s your cue. If you mess up, you can start over.”
“Got it.” I tried to sound cool, even though I was feeling edgy for a new reason. There was a difference between yelling the words at a concert and singing for people who wanted to do this for a living. Everyone in this band cared about music in a way I’d never allowed myself to care about anything. “Can you play the whole song one more time?” I asked, without meaning to. “It was—kind of a lot to take in on one listen.”
“Sure, no problem.” He fixed it and stepped away from the laptop. “Okay, I’ll be right outside. Open the door when you’re done. And don’t worry—nobody can hear you, so do what you need to, if you have to warm up or whatever.”
I barely noticed him walk out; the song was playing again, and I could close my eyes. Lean my head back. Instead of picking out the different pieces, I let the song wash over me, absorbing the movement from panic and anxiety to warmth. Connection. Peace. My favorite part was the ending—still frenetic and jumpy, because those problems didn’t disappear. But better. More stable. The song felt personal, as if it was written for Felix, and yet it was also for everyone who’d ever wondered who they were and where they belonged.
Then the metronome counted time.
Well. No one here would make fun of me if I stopped crushing my feelings until they turned into a super fucked-up diamond.
So when I sang along—I meant it. Letting go of those things instead of hiding them away was frighteningly easy, and it was over before I even realized. I gave myself a beat to school my face back to my neutral murder expression. Then I opened the door.
Felix lifted his head. “Cool, you were fast. Let me give it a listen to see if it’ll pass muster with Sarah.”
He came back into the booth, and I handed him the headphones. “I want to grow up to be as threatening as she is.”
“Sarah’s only scary about music. And school. And college applications.” Felix paused. “Okay, I guess she’s scary about a lot of things, but only important stuff. And she’s good at everything, so she’s earned it.” He put on the headphones. I checked my phone so I wouldn’t watch his face—but, of course, I ended up watching his face anyway.
At first, he frowned in concentration. Then it disappeared, and his eyes widened. His lips parted, the same way they did when we listened to the first Cameron James track.
Well, shit. I put my phone in front of my face as if pretending to read gay fan fiction would protect me.
But all Felix said was, “Yeah, um. Yeah. It’ll work.” He swallowed and turned to me, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, I forgot to thank you. For talking to me, I mean. I know you don’t want anything to do with my drama.”
As usual, he came away with all the wrong conclusions, but it worked in my favor. “It’s cool. Just hurry up and rip off the Band-Aid so you can talk to people who are good at it.”
Felix nodded. He seemed dazed, but not sad, so something decent had happened. I held the door open for him.
Alex perked up when Felix approached. “Oh, good, you’re done. Now we can try the song.”
“You guys are done already?” Felix asked. “Sheesh. You’re usually at it for another hour before you’ll even share.”
I flopped down in one of the round armchairs scattered around the room.
Sarah pulled her hair back. “Nothing is ever perfect. But this one is pretty good to start with. We’ll see how it sounds now we’ve got a session violinist.” She flashed Morgan a smile, and, wonder of wonders, he smiled back instead of pretending he was part of the scenery. She went to her drum kit, checking the arrangement of the pieces the same way she checked the mirrors in her car, and then she took off her suit jacket and folded it before setting it on the floor and sitting on the stool.
Zach picked up his bass, and Felix took a spot behind the keyboard in the center of the arrangement. “You should sit here, Gareth.” Felix pointed to a chair in front of the band.
“But I’m getting up to some really good lurking over here,” I said, propping my cheek on my hand. “I’m used to hanging around in the background during music stuff.”
Felix shook his head. “This place—” He gestured at the ceiling, which I hadn’t noticed was subtly curved. “—is built so Mr. Hale and his band can record their improv sessions. And they put the microphone right there, where it sounds the best. This is gonna be good.”
I didn’t want to discuss it any longer, so I went to slouch in the indicated chair. “I’m warning you, if you’re asking for my opinions, the best I’ll be able to say is ‘it sounded good.’”
“Gareth,” Morgan said, rolling his eyes heavenward.
“Morgan,” I said, mocking his put-upon tone.
“His opinion doesn’t matter anyway because he’s not in the band.” Alex adjusted his guitar. “No offense, Gareth.”
“I don’t mind. It means I get to do this.” I clapped my hands in my best asshole Roman emperor impression. “Entertain me!”
“I’d throw a drumstick at your head if I didn’t only have two over here right now.” Sarah stretched her shoulders and resettled herself; she had disgustingly perfect posture. “Are we doing this or what?”
“Hold on, hold on,” said Zach. He bent over his bass and strummed a few notes. “Yeah, okay, I’m good.”
Felix glanced around the band one more time and snapped his fingers in a mid-tempo beat. He played a steady series of chords, and Sarah joined in with light clicks on the edge of her snare. My choice of spot really did make a difference; everything came together here, almost the same as sitting in a concert hall.
The whole song felt gentle, even when Zach and Alex joined in. Morgan came in on the second verse, adding long, extended notes over the top of the steady piano beat. The triplets minus one harmonized with Felix as he sang about how he and his date didn’t have to listen to the rest of the world. They could have a nice night together without wondering what it meant.
I thought it sounded good. But Sarah got to her feet and stretched. “How come you quit with the chords, Felix? They were supposed to go through the whole song.”
Felix blushed. “I got too into it. This one is great.”
“I can pick it up,” said Zach. “It’ll match how things get heavier in the second verse.” He played a few bars to demonstrate.
“I think it ends too abruptly,” Morgan said. Then he cringed in a way I almost didn’t recognize anymore. Everyone glanced at him, and he dropped his eyes. “The song resolves on an ambiguous note, but it doesn’t feel right. To me. I could be wrong.”
“I agree with him,” said Alex, after a beat. “It does drop off a cliff. I wanted to stop doing those slow fade-outs, but maybe it’s our thing now.”
“I am always on the side of making things less depressing,” said Felix, putting his hands on his hips. He turned to Sarah. “But it’s your song, so the verdict goes with you.”
“I think I’ll like it better. Now I’ve heard it all together, it’s got this cool queer daydream vibe going on.” Sarah turned to Morgan. “So what do you think? You’re the one with the violin.”
Morgan hesitated, but the band was all watching him as politely as an audience at a poetry reading. “What about this?” He played a variation on the main melody. “With a final repeat of the chorus, and the piano in place of guitar. So the arc completes.”
“Because time is a flat circle,” said Alex, squinting at the papers scattered over his amp. “Yeah, okay, cool, let’s try it.”
“We need to do it from the top, though.” Felix stood behind his keyboard again. “I have to work myself up to it or it won’t sound right.”
“God, you’re such a diva,” said Alex, but fondly.
Felix tossed his head. “I keep saying any one of you could take the mic at any time, but nooo, you want to be back there playing ins
truments. Like you’re musicians or something.”
“I know I have no relevant opinions,” I said, “but you’re terrible at insults.”
“You should hear him try and make ‘your mom’ jokes,” said Zach, grinning.
Felix sniffed. “I don’t think insulting people is a skill worth cultivating. Are we gonna do this or not?”
They played the song three more times, stopping and starting as they discussed additions and subtractions. I didn’t bother checking my phone. No one was paying attention to me, and from my seat, I could watch the way everyone fit together. Once Morgan realized no one was going to jump down his throat, he made suggestions without prompting. And if Felix was stressed out, I couldn’t see it. He seemed at home, surrounded by his friends and trading instruments with them.
Basically, it was good, and I started to think maybe I was a person, not a box full of bees. Never mind I didn’t belong. I could pretend for a little while longer.
AFTER A FEW hours, Mr. Hale came downstairs and told everyone if they wanted to eat, they needed to wrap it up. I hadn’t been keeping track of time, but it was already almost quarter after four.
“We’d better get back.” Morgan packed away his violin.
“Sure you don’t want to stay?” said Alex without glancing up from his notes. “We keep going for a while after dinner, until Felix has to head home.”
“Our dad might forget we exist if we don’t go home and remind him, is what Morgan is trying not to say,” I said, wiggling out of my seat. The chair had absorbed me.
Morgan didn’t even shoot me a dirty look. “I told Father we’d be back for dinner. And I do have homework to do.”
“Bah!” said Zach, stretching his back. “Homework is for the weak.”
“Homework is for people who want to graduate with honors,” Sarah corrected him. “Although, if you try and challenge me for valedictorian, they will never find your body.”
