Page 81 of Vespertine
“Backed up by big money.”
White rage pulsed in him, and Nicky hung up, throwing thephone onto the counter, not sure if he was relieved or disappointed that itdidn’t break. “Every time I turn that thing on, it’s crap news.”
“What’s the problem?” Jasper’s fingers twitched like he wantedto reach out to him.
Nicky leaned his elbows on the kitchen counter and ran ahand through his hair. “They’re saying that if I’m not ready to make a newalbum soon, they’re going to kick me out of the band.”
“Can they do that?”
Nicky snorted. “They own us. They can do whatever the fuckthey want.”
“And if the others don’t agree to this?”
“Then we’re on our own.”
Jasper cleared his throat and offered tentatively. “Wouldthat be so bad?”
Nicky stood up straight and stretched, his back cracking alittle. He sighed. “Well, it’s not like I could even become an indie artist. Wesigned shit contracts when we were younger. They own my future songs until I’vemade six albums with them. Same for the others.”
“How did Adrian let you sign something like that?”
Nicky walked around to the table. “Because Adrian wasn’tconsulted. Like I told you before, I was young and angry and pretty fuckingegotistical. I thought I knew best.” He laughed, pulling out the seat besideJazz and sitting. “I thought I’d have ten albums out in less than ten years,maybe more. I was cranking out music then. It was coming out of me like I wassweating out a sickness.”
“Music has always been part of you like that.”
Nicky sighed and put his head down in his hands. “Not rightnow.” He rubbed his fingers through his hair anxiously. “Can I tell yousomething?”
“What?”
He chewed on his bottom lip. “Everything I write since I’vebeen on these meds? It comes out…deformed or something. Like broken pieces ofsong.” He looked up at Jasper, and his horror must have shown clearly becauseJasper’s face fell into a tender mix of sadness and reassurance.
“It’s going to be okay.”
“Jazz, get real.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Whatif I can’t write high and I can’t write on these meds? What if I can’t be theperson I am now and make music?”
Jasper leaned close, carefully uncrossing Nicky’s arms fromwhere he squeezed himself tightly. “No, that’s not how it’s going to be. You’relearning.”
“I haven’t had to learn a damn thing about music since I wasa little kid, Jasper. It’s just been there for me. Always.”
“Well.” Jasper seemed to carefully weigh his words. “Maybewhen a gift comes so easily to someone it isn’t always appreciated. Maybe it’sGod’s way—” He took in Nicky’s expression and laughed under his breath. “Okayfine. Maybe when a talent like that is taken for granted for so long withoutnurturing it, the well runs dry. And now you’ll have to find new ways toreplenish it. I don’t know if I’m explaining this right. What happens when youplay now?”
“It starts out okay, but then it twists up.” Nicky let Jazzrub his thumbs soothingly against the skin of his soft, inner arms, evenbrushing against the scars. He didn’t want to explain that the new music wassometimes pretty good, but then the lyrics came out like everything he didn’twant to be anymore. “I still play, though. I have to play. But lately I onlywant to play other people’s songs, like when I’m with Lizzie and Jason, becauseI can’t stand to play the old Vespertine stuff anymore, and everything new ismissing something. Maybe an arm. Or leg. It’s not whole.”
“People with disabilities are still whole, Nicky. They’rejust whole differently.”
“Goddammit, Jasper, don’t be PC right now.”
Jazz ducked his head and an adorably thick flop of hair fellinto his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t believe me.”
Jasper gripped his arms solidly. “I do. I think you need tobe patient with yourself. You’re still healing. It makes sense that your musicwould be healing too.”
“Tell that to the goddamn, motherfucking, piece of shitassholes in Los Angeles.”
Jasper grinned. “Hand me the phone next time and I will.”
Nicky laughed softly. “Yeah. Maybe I’ll let you if you’rearound.”
