Page 73 of Between Never and Forever
“I’m going to check out the upstairs.”
Everything looks how it did in the pictures. The primary bedroom has a giant king bed and an ensuite bathroom with a spa tub and steam shower. The second bedroom is slightly smaller, but also has an attached bathroom, which makes me feel better about making Red stay in there. He’s a big guy, but if I offered him the primary bedroom with the king bed, he’d never accept it.
Then I find the door to the rooftop terrace.
It’s fucking beautiful. Twinkle lights strung around the perimeter, stylish patio furniture, a small fire pit, and an outdoor kitchen make the area beyond impressive, but my favorite part is the unobstructed view of the estuary and riverwalk. I want to watch the sunset and rise from this terrace. I want to light up the fire pit and play my guitar under the stars.
The whole scene lifts me up and excites me briefly, and then I’m hit with a wave of sadness.
It makes me miss the band.
A few years ago, we would have loved this set up. Mabel’s laughter would carry, and I can close my eyes and imagine us jamming around glowing embers under twinkling lights. Jonah would make sure we had everything we needed, filling our drinks and stoking the fire, ever the mother hen. Torren would brood, smirk, and crack the perfect jokes at the perfect times.
The image brings a smile to my lips and a sting to my eye.
I miss that kind of fun. Fun like we used to have before we blew up and lost all semblance of normalcy. When they were my chosen family instead of my contracted business partners. When we actuallylikedeach other.
I sigh and bring my attention back to the estuary. It’s a thirty-mile-long stretch of the river that’s become mixed with the salt water of the Atlantic before the two waterways meet, and the riverwalk is teeming with energy. Restaurants, coffee shops, boutiques, all of it. There’s even an area a few blocks down for bands to play during the warmer summer months.
I grew up just about an hour from here, but I was never able to visit. Never saw this riverwalk. Never stepped foot in the ocean at the end of it. Never even thought about this town until that very first tour. When we played here, we were still Savannah Alt. It wasn’t until our first show outside of D.C. that we became The Hometown Heartless. Right on time, too, because our second D.C. show is when we debuted “Just One More,” and it changed everything.
We were asked once in an interview why we named the band The Hometown Heartless, and Jonah answered for us.
“The concept of a hometown can evoke visceral emotions. People either love their hometown, or they hate it. They embrace it, never want to leave, or they run as far away as they can. But for us, the idea of never leaving means shunning growth and avoiding change. Those things—new things, different things—don’t fit into the ‘hometown’ mold, and a hometown can be real cozy until you try to break out of the mold. For people like us, people who don’t reallyfit, a hometown can be stifling. It can be heartless.”
We all sat in silence for a moment, nodding and soaking in Jonah’s answer. I remember feeling glad he answered because I wouldn’t have been as eloquent. I would have said my most debilitating heartbreaks still reside in my hometown. Jonah’s answer was better.
He was so much more vocal and charismatic in the beginning. The boy who always had a classic novel in his duffle bag. Who did crossword puzzles for fun between books he was reading. What a contrast to how he is now. My heart aches at the memory, and then I smile.
In that interview, after his answer stunned us all speechless, he laughed, then said with a smirk, “plus it just sounds fucking cool.”
And that was Jonah. Insightful and deep, with a cool wit that always took the edge off.
I walk to the railing on the edge of the rooftop and brace my hands on it, leaning forward and breathing deeply. The air smells better here than it does in L.A. It’s quieter, too. I hear the river lapping at the rocks from the boat wakes. I hear faint chatter and laughter and music. It’s peace in a form I’ve never known. Calm and relaxing. Content.
Sometimes, I wonder where I’d be if the band hadn’t hit it big. It’s a delusional game I play with myself. I romanticize the hypothetical. I attempt to fool myself into thinking I’d be healthier and happier. I try to picture myself as one of those normal people on the riverwalk, sipping iced lattes and chatting about their daily lives.
The image never lasts, though. The reality always crashes in, reminding me just who and what I was before I was Sav Loveless. A broke stripper with a budding substance abuse problem. A runaway teen from a fucked-up family. Vulnerable prey for disgusting, vicious people.
I have to laugh at myself otherwise I’ll cry.
It’s not that I’m not grateful for where I am now. I am. For the fans, the success, the money. I have a fucking Grammy. This movie role is one actors go their whole careers trying to land. I’m lucky, and I know I’m lucky. That label rep in the D.C. dive bar who heard “Just One More” and saw potential in The Hometown Heartless changed my whole life.
But recently...
Damn if sometimes I wish he’d never showed, and I don’t know what that says about me.
“Kid.”
I startle and turn toward the door to find Red standing on the terrace, arms folded across his chest, assessing.
“No coverage at all,” he says, glancing around to the neighboring rooftops. “Anyone with their phone camera could get you. The right lens will do it from one of the boats on the river, too.”
I snort and shake my head.
“You’re a fun sucker,” I say, walking toward him. “You just suck the fun out of everything.”
He raises an eyebrow.
