Chapter 2

So everyone knew about the setup. I was the only one kept in the dark until I saw the poster.

I dropped it and asked him something else instead. "Tomorrow afternoon—you want me to teach her how to sing the second verse?"

"She listened to the demo, but there’s a spot where you catch your breath early, off the sheet music. Just walk her through how you do it."

"Let her sing it her own way."

Noah frowned. "She only has three weeks. Can you not do this right now just to spite me?"

He knew how badly I wanted to sing that song.

Now he’d put someone else in front of the mic, and he was asking me to coach her.

He didn't even see anything wrong with it.

"I'm not coming tomorrow," I said.

"Ivy."

"Thanks for dinner."

I shut the door, done wasting my breath.

Through the wood, he stood out there for a moment before saying, "Call me when you’ve cooled off."

I unwrapped my burrito. The lime sauce tasted just the way I liked it.

Noah always remembered the little things. He knew which peppers I couldn't eat, knew I got headaches after winter rehearsals, and always grabbed me a hot drink on the way home.

Two bites in, I heard his voice again: *You prefer listening from the floor anyway.*

I put the burrito down and sent a follow-up email to the festival: *The audio demo is a few years old; if needed, I can submit a recent live performance video within your deadline.*

Once it was sent, I pulled my guitar back onto my lap and lost myself in my own music.

The next morning, Maya knocked on my door with two coffees.

She was my college roommate. Last night, I’d sent her the poster without a single word.

Walking in, she spotted the lyrics on the dining table, set the coffees down, and looked at the poster again.

"Did you talk to Noah?"

"Yeah."

"What did he say?"

"Said I like staying in the crowd, and that Lila’s more experienced, so she's a better fit."

"And he asked me to coach her on the second verse."

Maya handed me a coffee. "What did you tell him?"

"Told him no."

Her eyes landed on my laptop screen. The confirmation page for the festival was still open.

"You applied for the solo stage?"

"Yeah."

"Playing *Across the River*?"

"Yeah."

Maya sat down. "If they pick you, are you ready to go up there alone?"

"I don't even know if I'll make the cut yet."

"Ivy."

Whenever she used that tone, I knew I was dodging the question again.

I took a deep breath and nodded. "I'll do it alone. Even if I'm terrified, I'll do it alone."

I showed her the practice video I’d recorded the night before.

My breath was shaky on one line in the chorus, and I cut the ending too short.

Instead of just hyping me up like she used to, Maya asked, "Are you doing another take tonight?"

"Yeah."

Her voice finally softened, her eyes warm. "Don't worry about whether you get picked. All you need to do is use your own voice and sing your own song."

She stepped into the kitchen to take a work call.

Staying in the living room, I clicked through my folders of old recordings.

Years ago, I used to put the date and lyric changes right in the file names. Later, once the band had a set schedule and Noah took over organizing the official demos, I kept less and less for myself.

A reminder from the landlord popped up in the bottom corner of my screen: *Auto-pay scheduled for Monday.*

I clicked open the lease, suddenly remembering something I’d put on the back burner for a long time.

When we rented the space three years ago, the landlord required someone with a steady income to sign.

I already had a day job at a design studio back then, while Noah was between jobs and every dime Ben made went straight into his drum kit. So I signed the lease and linked my bank card.

Ever since, the guys Venmoed me their share each month, and I handled the landlord.

The band had gotten more legitimate over the years. And my name had stayed on that lease the entire time.

Last night, I’d only said I wouldn't coach Lila. I hadn't decided to quit the band.

But if I ever did walk away, I couldn't wait until the day I left to sort out the rent.

I forwarded the payment reminder to Noah.

*We need to talk about next month's renewal and how we're paying for it. Monday's rent is still coming off my card.*

My phone rang instantly.

"Now you don't even want us using the practice space?" he asked.

"I didn't say that."

"Yesterday you refused to talk about the set, and now you're bringing up the lease. Look, everyone’s swamped before the festival. Stop using this stuff to play games with me just because you're pissed."

"I'm bringing it up because the money comes out Monday. You guys have always paid your share on time, and I'm not saying anyone owes me. But we need to figure out how this gets paid going forward."