Page 56 of Electric Wounds
“Yeah, well, some of us handle it better than others,” I mutter, sipping my coffee.
Dylan chimes in, “How about we all agree that Lily, provider of coffee, is the real hero here?”
Marcus chuckles. “Amen to that.”
Lily smiles at them, sipping her coffee.
I move towards the table, noticing there isn’t another chair. Lily stands as I approach, clearly about to offer me her seat. I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her into my lap and barely avoiding the splash of coffee from her cup.
“Enzo,” she chastises, but it’s ruined by a giggle.
I smirk, clinking my cup against hers in a cheers motion.
Lily’s phone buzzes against the table with a text. I don’t avert my eyes. Noticing it’s from Harris, I read it over her shoulder. After she places her phone back on the table, she announces, “Good news. The bus will be at the venue after the show.”
A collective feeling of relief rolls across the room. I watch as Marcus relaxes, his shoulders releasing some of their tension as they drift downwards away from his ears. Even Dylan seems more at ease.
At least one thing is going right today.
We pack up our stuff, get ready, and head out. The mood is lighter now, but there’s still an undercurrent of agitation, mostly radiating from Jax.
The drive to the venue is uneventful. Dylan and Marcus exchange a few words, sitting together in the back row with their heads bent together. Jax remains silent, staring out the window. His dark hair falls over his eyes, his jaw tight.
I lean back, trying to catch some sleep, but my mind keeps wandering to the upcoming performance. Lily leans against my side, texting with Harris and I pull her a little closer to me, wrapping my arm around her waist. It's a short ride, over far too quickly, when it means releasing my claim on Lily.
When we arrive, we go through our usual pre-show ritual—a mix of silent meditation and hype to get us in the zone. It’s supposed to be a time to connect, to get in sync, but today it feels off. Jax is distant, and it throws everything out of balance.
Despite the weird vibe, we step onto the stage. The crowd is insane, screaming and cheering as we kick off our first song. The energy is there, but it feels like we’re just going through the motions. Jax’s voice is strong, but it’s missing its usual fire. Marcus’s fingers fly over the guitar strings, but his heart doesn’t seem in it. Dylan’s drumming is precise but lacks his usual enthusiasm.
I play my bass, watching the crowd. They don’t seem to notice the difference. They’re having the time of their lives, caught up in the music, but on stage, it feels flat. The electric connection between us—the thing that usually makes us unstoppable—is missing. When we finally finish the set, thecrowd roars, but instead of feeling pumped, I just feel drained. We walk off stage, not even bothering with the usual high-fives or celebrations.
Backstage, we all gravitate toward Lily. She’s waiting in her usual spot in the wings. Normally she’s bursting with enthusiasm, but today she is a little more subdued, like she can sense the same vibe that I felt on stage. I wait my turn for her attention, anyway. She gives Marcus a hug, squeezes Dylan’s shoulder, and plants a kiss on my cheek. Then she turns to Jax, wrapping her arms around him tightly. He closes his eyes and leans into her, some of the tension in his body finally easing.
I watch them, feeling a mix of emotions—frustration, irritation and a grudging respect for how she manages to keep us together. Despite the rollercoaster of the last two days, she’s trying to make things better. I’m just worried that Jax is going to do something stupid again and she’ll be caught in the backlash this time, too.
Sighing, I hand my bass off to a crew member, watching Lily out of the corner of my eye. She’s talking softly to Jax, her face full of concern. She catches my eye and gives me a small, hopeful smile.
I nod back, hoping we can find a way to pull through.
Jax just needs to get his shit together. He’s never been good when things don’t go his way, but it seems to be getting worse over time.
We finish up at the venue, then we board our bus with a sense of relief. Everyone is exhausted, but the bus is finally fixed, which is all that matters at this point. We linger in the small living room, grateful for the comfort of having our own space again.
“Well, back to our little mobile coffins. Cozy, right?” Dylan asks.
Marcus snorts. “Yeah, real cozy.”
As I climb into my bunk, I notice Lily hesitating in the aisle. Dylan sees it too and shoots her a teasing smile. “Hey Lily, if you’re feeling lonely, my bunk’s always open.”
She rolls her eyes but smiles. “Oh, really? You think it’s more comfortable to cram two of us in that tiny space? Weren’t you just complaining about coffins?”
Dylan grins. “I’m very accommodating. I would do this for you.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “Alright, but no snoring.”
“I make no promises,” Dylan says, dramatically crossing his hand across his heart like he’s wounded that she would require any sort of promises from him, before climbing in his bed.
I watch as Lily climbs into Dylan’s bunk, then I settle into mine. The soft sound of their hushed laughter lulls me to sleep. Despite everything, I hold on to the hope that tomorrow will be better.
