Matt’s voice, however, was calm when he answered me. “You don’t respect the art form, Griffin. You don’t take this seriously enough; you never have. I can’t give you that much responsibility when I know you can’t handle it. You’ll drop the ball, and this band means too much to me to let that happen.” After a moment of silence he added, “I’m sorry. I know how much you want it, but you are never going to play lead, understand? My answer will always be no. You should just accept that and let it go so we can move past this.”
The sound of my heart pounding reverberated through my ears. I couldn’t believe the fuckers were saying no again…and for good this time. Never? They would never let me play the one instrument I’d always wanted? What the hell? “One song? You won’t even trust me with one fucking song? Have I ever dropped the ball on bass? No. I kill it every single night, and every single rehearsal. I may joke around, but I get the fucking job done, and you know it.”
Matt’s lips pressed into a firm line and his cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, but he shook his head. “My answer is still no. It’s not ever gonna happen. Sorry. I wish I could tell you in a gentler way, but I feel like, at this point, it’s best to be blunt…so you’ll stop asking. We have a system that works; we’re not going to change it just so you can live out your look-at-me fantasy. It’s time for you to grow up, Griffin.”
Grow up? Fuck that. If anything, it was time for me to act like an immature asshole, since that was what they were doing. Opening my palm, I let my guitar fall to the floor. It fell with a thud, and I swear, something cracked. “Thanks for the fucking bone…fucker. If your answer is always gonna be no, then there’s no point in me being here, pretending to be a part of this band. Clearly, I’m not actually a member.”
Not able to stand his face for another second, I stormed from the room. From behind me I heard Matt yell, “I have to think of the band first, Griffin. It’s not personal!”
Muttering, “Neither is that, asshole,” I flipped him off as I walked out the door. I heard someone call out for me to wait before the door slammed shut and all sound cut off, but I ignored whoever had shouted it. I was done.
Stomping past the pool, I paused to throw a chair in. The splash was satisfying, so I tossed in another chair. And a table. Fish that out, fucker. Indulging in my temper tantrum gave Kellan time to catch up to me. Emerging from the rehearsal room, he spotted me and strode over. Just when I was about to reach for another chair to throw in his pool, he grabbed my arm. Irritated, I jerked away from him. “Let go, Kell. I got nothing to say to you.”
His brows bunched together until they were almost one fuzzy line of concern—One brow to rule them all…“What was all that about? And what did you mean at the end there? You are a part of this band, Griffin. You always have been, and you always will be.”
Pushing him back a step, I snapped, “It’s a little late for the pep talk, bro. If you think I’m so valuable, you could have stood up for me in there.” I lifted my arms for emphasis. “It gave me the warm and fuzzies how you let him walk all over me.”
Kellan sighed. “It’s complicated, Griff. Matt’s a genius on guitar…he’s…it’s his instrument, the one he’s born to play. But us saying that isn’t an insult to you. You’re amazing on bass, gifted even. It’s just…we each have our part, you know? And we have to do them the best we can.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “For the sake of the band, I’m asking you to let this go and just…forget about lead. Please?”
I could only stare at him. I felt numb inside. Was this what giving up your dream felt like? For as long as I could remember, I’d wanted all eyes on me—I’d wanted to be the center of attention. Matt had never wanted that. But he was given the instrument that shone while I was given the one that everyone forgot about. My part was designed to blend, designed to go unnoticed. It was everything I wasn’t, and I was sick of being stuck with it. I wanted more, but they wouldn’t give me more.
Without answering him, I turned and walked away, toward the house. What could I say to that anyway? Matt had just permanently rejected my chances at ever being lead guitar. Forgetting was the only thing left that I could do. Forget, or stew, and right now, I wanted to stew.
When I got back to the living room, Jenny and Rachel were there working. “Need something, Griffin?” Jenny asked, her pale eyes practically sparkling with happiness.
Ignoring both her good mood and her question, I called out for Anna. “She’s upstairs with Kiera,” Rachel quietly replied.
Harrumphing some sort of thank-you, I began plodding my way to the stairs. Fucking stairs. I stomped up them, cursing my bandmates with each step. I imagined that the carpet treads under my feet were their squishy faces. I felt a little better by the time I reached the top. “Yo, Anna! Where are you?”
Both Anna and Kiera instantly appeared in a bedroom doorframe. Simultaneously, they both put fingers to their lips. “Shhhhhhh,” they both scolded.