Since no one was stepping up to defend me against Matt’s outrageous accusations, I decided to defend myself. “That’s not true, cuz. I contribute. Or I try to, at least, but you guys shoot down every idea I come up with. Kind of makes me not want to share my ideas, since I know you’re just gonna say no. Sometimes before you even hear me out.” I lifted my guitar like it was a gun and fired a couple of shots into the air, destroying my thought-children before they even had a chance to grow and flourish. Dream killers.
Matt and Kellan exchanged a look, then glanced back at Evan. He shrugged, then nodded. Still looking like he was struggling to rein in his bad mood, Matt locked eyes with me. “Okay…you may have a point.” He pressed his lips together like just admitting that caused him pain. “So…do you have an idea you’d like to share? We’re all ears.” He cringed, but closed his mouth.
My heart started thudding harder as I looked around the room. This was it; I had their complete and total attention, and there was no way they could say no this time. They couldn’t deny me anymore, not after I’d just pointed out that they never listen to me. I deserved this, and unlike all the times I’d asked them for a shot before, this time, they were going to give me the opportunity I’d wanted since day one. I could feel it. Today was my day.
Trying to look like it didn’t matter much to me, I casually tossed out, “Yeah, I think I should take the lead on ‘Stalker’ on the tour. It’s time you guys threw me a bone.” That song had a killer solo in the middle. Matt got screams for days after he shredded it, not that he noticed. He rarely looked up from his instrument to see the frenzy going on around him. Damn waste.
Matt considered my request for exactly point five seconds. “No.”
Heat rushed up my spine, encircled my head, and pounded on my brain. I knew they wouldn’t hear me out. Well, fuck that. I deserved a chance. “Okay, how about a different song then? You can pick it.”
Matt crossed his arms over his chest. “No.”
My cheeks felt like someone was holding a flame over them. “No? Just no. You still won’t even fucking consider it? Why the fuck not? We both started playing guitar as leads, Matt, and you know I’m great at it. The only reason I’ve been stuck on bass is because I somehow drew the short straw when the band formed. I got fucked, but it was never supposed to be permanent and you know that.” Matt narrowed his eyes but didn’t respond to my valid points, so I looked over at Evan and Kellan for support. “You guys got an opinion about this? Or is Matt the sole leader of the band now? Should we rename ourselves Matt-Bags? Or how about Door Matts?”
Kellan appeared to not know what to say. He looked over at Evan with What should we do? written all over his face. Evan cleared his throat, then pointed at Matt with his drumstick. “It’s his instrument, man. It’s his call. If he says no…that’s his right.”
“And what about my rights? I’ve wanted lead guitar from the first day we all hooked up, but I was outnumbered then and I’m outnumbered now. You jackasses won’t ever give me a chance!” My voice was loud and gruff, powerful and pissed.
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.”