Rose

The lights were blinding. The noise was deafening. The crowd was all out of their seats, yelling and cheering, their hands in the air.

Jett Jones stood before it all, sweat rolling down his forehead, sticking his cut open shirt to his chest. His ring wrapped fingers clutched the microphone in front of him and the whole crowd heard him take a breath, a slow inhale that had all of them tense in anticipation.

He waited one beat, two, and then he bent at the waist just as the music crashed over the stadium, a scream tearing from his lips that scratched at his throat just enough to blend perfectly into the wailing guitar. Soon enough the crowd was shouting the lyrics as he sang them, moving up and down in a thrashing mass that came with the freedom of chaos and unfiltered passion. Jett couldn’t see their faces past the blinding lights, could only exist in this one moment that left everything else behind. Here, on the stage with his band, there was only the music. Here they said what they wanted, they did what they wanted, and everyone always loved them.

“Saw your face/ saw your smile/ thought I’d stay awhile,” Jett belted. “Open like a rose, yeah/ fall to the floor, yeah/ I’ll tear you apart/ I’ll sew back your heart.”

“Sew back your heart! Sew back your heart!” the crowd echoed. Jett smiled. The crash of a symbol sounded in perfect succession, hitting each accent with a sharp blast of thunder. The bass rolled easily with the kick pattern, thumping like a second heartbeat while the guitar rang out notes like it was the last time they’d ever perform. He closed his eyes and opened his arms as the crowd took on the end of the song, roaring out the final lyrics as everything came to a slamming halt. Then it was only the sound of their cheers drowning out his thank you’s, only the feel of his bandmates slinging their arms around his shoulders, only the half-remembered sensation of waving goodbye, of walking off, of leaving the lights and the love for the muted darkness of backstage.

“That was a sick show, man!”

“Ah, sometimes I forget how good this feels.”

“We rocked that crowd!”

“We rocked that show!”

They all laughed together, brushing aside the stagehands and heading to the greenroom where there was already booze and friends waiting for them. Two seconds and then a girl had latched onto his arm, smiling and complimenting him, maybe a little too sweet. Jett smiled back at her without really looking, his body still racing from the high of the show. He watched Matt just barely put down his bass in time for his girlfriend to jump into his arms, smothering his face with kisses. Karl slapped a friend on the back and they fell back on the couch, talking animatedly. Colton had already cracked open a beer next to Jett, and in an instant they were surrounded by four others who looked distantly familiar. Jett itched for a beer too, his hands feeling too useless at his sides. One of the guys started talking and a woman next to Colton chimed in, something about Seattle tours. Right, this man was Faso! They’d played together on their last tour and he’d had really good weed. What was their music like again?

“Yo Jett,” Faso drawled, giving him a toothy smirk. “You’re a free man tonight, right?”

The girl next to Jett thumbed his shirt between her fingers. “I really dig your songs, you know.”

“Yeah?” Jett murmured, looking down at her. She smiled, a little shyly, a little sweet. And Jett froze, finally looking at her fully. The world tilted on its axis, flipping up from down and left from right until all he saw was her familiar ginger hair, her constellation of freckles. This wasn’t some nameless groupie. “Lily?” he whispered, barely above a breath.

The rest of the room carried on without him, Faso turning away when he’d taken too long to answer, Colton making him laugh. The space was loud and yet the only thing Jett could hear was Lily’s small laugh, a slight smirk curving her lips.

“Didn’t think you'd ever see me again, did you?” she whispered back, still keeping that playful tone. “Unfortunately for you, it’s hard to hide when your name is all over billboards.”

“What are you- how-” but his throat closed up, the words sticking to his teeth and coating his tongue, rendering it useless. All of a sudden he had forgotten how to breathe, how to act, how to do anything other than gape. The adrenaline was leaving his system. So were the drugs. He was too sober. This was too real. She couldn’t be here. Not now, why now-

Stop. Don’t make me do this.

This is just the way the story goes, Jett.

C’mon, is this really necessary? We just played a killer show, we’re cool. Let’s focus on that.

We did focus on that.

Well, we don’t need all of… this to happen. I didn’t even like her that much anyway. She was just there.

Then why would it matter if you see her again?

Because you’re making me look so stupid! I don’t forget how to breathe!

I’m not controlling your reactions, I’m just presenting the scenario.

Well, can we skip this useless piece of drama? She was the past, she should stay in the past. This is my future you’re writing, keep me moving forward.

What if you have to go back in order to go forward?

If that’s true, I’m sure I can do it without seeing Lily again. Just change it, alright?

Alright, I’ll change it.

“Dad, dad, look! I can play the guitar!” Jett shouted.

“Keep your voice down, you sister’s sleeping,” his mom scolded from the kitchen. Jett ignored her, running into the living room and skidding to a stop right in front of his dad’s chair, beaming up at the man who glanced amusedly over the tops of his glasses, lowering his binder just slightly.

“Woah, you’re reading all of that?” Jett blurted out, eyes catching on the many papers, some sentences already highlighted. There had to be more than a hundred pages, no, a thousand! Jett’s kindergarten teacher had said one thousand was a big number, so it felt right to assign it to this.

“Yes,” his dad responded calmly. He glanced at the guitar in Jett’s hands, giving him a small smile. “So, they’re teaching you music now?”

“Yeah, a bit, but I’m learning a lot by myself,” Jett proclaimed proudly. “Look!” He started to strum, tongue poking out just a bit as he fought to remember the chord progression he’d seen that guy do. It came out a little scratchy but he finished with a flourish that sounded almost like a professional. He grinned widely. “What’d you think? Can I be a musician?”

His dad laughed. “It was good, son. Keep up the practice and it’ll be a nice little hobby.”

“Hobby?” Jett mumbled.

“Yes, like a side interest. A pastime.”

“But I want to be a musician!”

“Musicians have a very hard life, son. The worst way to make money is off a subjective business. If you want to be able to support yourself in this world, you need a job that relies on facts. Creativity is a gamble, as much as it pains me to admit it. I’m sure-”

Alright, what are you trying to do, make me some poor kid with big shoes to fill but despite the odds becomes a great artist? I cut off from this family anyway and I’ve barely thought about it. Why are you making me relive this?

You want a different moment?

A different moment? I want you to get back to the part where we make the crowd thrash and the music sounds like thunder. Is that so hard to ask? We’ve played so many shows, and we’ll probably play a lot more. Just pick one.

“Saw your face, saw your.. your smile… ah, th… thought I?” Jett’s voice sounded strange to him, foreign. The world was getting fuzzy. He hadn’t had that much, had he? He stumbled to the side and a shrill note rang out as the microphone dipped into feedback. Karl glanced over at him, looking worried. “Mm, tear you apart,” Jett drawled, the melodies all clashing in his head. “Sew back… sew back my heart…”

Enough!

You said pick.

You’re punishing me. Why are you doing this?

It’s not a punishment, it’s just what happened.

Why are we still stuck in the past?

You didn’t want to face the future.

Yeah, because you made it unfaceable! How am I supposed to face Lily after all this time? She has a kid now!

Your kid.

I know! I know, that’s the problem! Jesus Christ, what was I supposed to do? She was asking me to stay, to give it all up. I’ve wanted this my whole life. Doesn’t she see the way everyone loves our music? The whole crowd was on their feet! It was a sold out stadium! A stadium!

Yes, it was. So you do it for the music, then?

Of course, it’s always been for the music.

And who’s the music for?

What?

Who’s the music for, Jett? Is it for the crowds? Is that who matters? Do you love music because it puts you on stage, or because it moves something in you? What are you trying to do with your songs, Jett?

I… I don’t know, I…

Madison Square Garden was a good show because the band was playing in sync. You were all on the same page, feeling the same feeling, and the crowd responded to that. They thrash because the music moves them, and it moves them because they see something real, something passionate in it. Rose is one of your earlier songs, right? Why don’t you play the later ones?

‘Cause they’re not as good. I mean, we wrote them like the label wanted us too, they said it was just the format everyone liked so I don’t know why they didn’t hit-

They didn’t hit because there wasn’t anything behind it. The band doesn’t like those songs. The people don’t like those songs. You don’t even like those songs. Your best song is Rose because it’s about Lily. Because it does what music is best at- saying everything you can’t, and making it beautiful.

Right, but everything about this situation is anything but beautiful. There’s nothing to say anymore anyway. I won’t leave music for her, and she won’t accept that.

She didn’t ask you to leave everything, Jett. She asked you to be a father.

Yeah, well I can’t! I swore to myself I would never be like my dad, and I know that if I… if I tried to be a father now to this kid I would. I’m in too deep with too many things. I regret too many things. I don’t… I can’t have this be one more thing I regret.

Is it better then, to leave the kid without a father? To leave Lily alone? To cut her off completely? Do you want to pretend like it doesn’t hurt each day, like you will someday find a time where you don’t regret something?

W-what?

None of this will ever leave you, Jett. There is no magical future I can give you where you’re the perfect dad with the perfect girl. It’s either you move forward with this moment or you’re stuck in a cycle of the life you're living now. Good shows on the good days, chaos on the bad days. Songs that don’t mean anything. Songs that aren’t your own. A life backstage where you look to temporary pleasures because you're afraid of messing up something permanent. You’ve become so enraptured in the stage that it’s all you know now. It's the only place you can exist.

I still love it, though. I still… I still love music.

Yes, but you’re more than just music. Music comes from emotion, it reflects the vibrancy of life. If you make each show your sole purpose, drowning yourself in distractions during the in between moments, your music grows hollow because you’ve forgotten to live. You only know how to perform.

Why are you telling me this?

Because I need you to stop arguing with your own story. I’ve been with you for 26 years now and I care. I’m on the edge of my seat, Jett. I want you to take me somewhere I've never been before. What’s going to happen next?

Well I guess I… I have to do it, don’t I? No, don’t answer that. I don’t want to hear anymore philosophy. I need to tell Lily I love her.

Alright.

She was staring at him. Big green eyes that stripped him apart and swallowed him whole. He cleared his throat. “Can we talk outside?”

She raised a brow just slightly, maybe catching the change in his demeanor, maybe catching the way the words sounded like a plea, no more than a breath of a prayer. But she nodded and followed him out to the hallway, where he leaned against the wall and blew out a breath. His heart was pounding. He still felt the stickiness of his clothes.

“Listen,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t do right by you. I shouldn’t have-”

“Run away?” she supplied, eyes tightening. Okay, so definitely mad. “Left me at the hotel before it was even sunrise after I told you I was pregnant?”

Jett cringed. “Right, that.”

“I didn’t come here for your apology, Jett Jones,” Lily said calmly. “I came because there was one thing I didn’t get to do.”

“What’s-” but he didn’t get to finish, because in the next instant Lily’s hand collided with his face and his eyes went wide as pain burst through his skull like fireworks.

“I still love you,” she said as he blinked, clutching his cheek. It took him a minute to stop reeling, to focus on her words. “I tried not to for a while, but I think I always will. I’ll be in our hometown when you’ve pulled yourself together.” She leaned forward and gave him a brief, feather-like kiss, the sensation tingling on his lips even after she’d pulled away. “Our son’s name is Peter, by the way. And he already likes your music. But he says your new songs suck.”

Jett laughed, the sound punching out of him. “Wow, we already agree on something.”

Lily smiled sadly. “I know you won’t give up touring, and I’ll stop asking you. But please, come see us when you can. If you can’t do it for me, do it for him.”

Jett’s whole body wanted to fight the thought of it, his hands hanging restlessly at his sides, his eyes darting about the hallway as if there was some place to run. But he forced himself to look Lily in the eyes, to stand still. I still love music.

Who’s the music for, Jett?

“I love you,” he said firmly, clenching his hands. Her eyes widened. She looked so beautiful. “And I will try… I will try to give you all that I can. Because you deserve it. And Peter. He deserves it.”

Lily’s smile turned sweet, her eyes crinkling in that way they used to, the one that made the light dance. “And you,” she murmured. “You deserve it.”

I’m on the edge of my seat, Jett. What’s going to happen next?

I’ll tear you apart

I’ll sew back your heart

I’ll dance to the rhythm of your melody

And open my eyes to new clarity