“I don’t think the end should go like that,” Isaac pushed. “It sort of trails of into nothing and it’s really just unfinished.”
“Isaac, come on,” I urged, “it’s a good song the way it is.”
“No, it’s really not though.”
We both turned towards our little brother, “Zac?”
He looked up at us. He hadn’t been paying attention, instead he was picking at his nails.
“Zac, look alive will ya?” Isaac snapped.
“Don’t chide him,” I retorted. “It’s not his fault he’s bored.”
“What are you saying, it’s mine?” Isaac said walking closer to my keyboards.
“Yeah,” I said, walking closer to his “personal space” as he liked to call it. I puffed out my chest.
“Guys, come on,” Zac complained, “we have a record to do here. Let’s just take it from the top, OK?” He counted out from one to four, slapping the drum sticks together as he yelled out the count.
We dove right into the song, from beginning to end, and it was clear that Isaac and I were trying to show each other up, each singing louder than the other and trying to play harder and better. Zac stopped playing and stood up. “I’m going to go take a break,” he announced, putting the drumsticks down in the canister next to his stool. “I’ll be outside with a cup of coffee if you need me.”
He left the studio before we could even try to stop him.
Isaac and I looked at each other and sighed. “Sorry man,” I said. “I have to learn to cooperate again.”
“I’m sorry, too,” he said. “The ending’s not so bad. I’m just pissed that it’s not the way I want. I have to learn collaboration again as well. I’ve been writing songs alone for a few months and I’ve grown quite used to it.”
“Same here,” I admitted. I looked towards the door. “I’ll go get Zac.”
I found my brother exactly where he said he would be, outside drinking a cup of coffee, cigarette in hand. “I thought you quit,” I said from behind him, startling him. He jumped about a foot and then realized it was me.
“I did,” he responded, taking a drag on the stick. “All the tension in there was getting to me, I needed to wind down.”
“Can I bum one?” I asked.
Zac looked at me strangely but handed me a fresh one from his pack, shelling out his lighter after he put the pack back in his pocket.
I lit up and took a deep drag, letting out the smoke from my nostrils. “This stuff sucks, you know,” I said making a face, flicking the ashes from my cigarette.
“I know,” he responded quietly.
I spit onto the sidewalk and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “It’s nasty.”
“I know,” he repeated in the same quiet voice. He was starring off into the distance, watching nothing in particular, but still he remained looking. “Is there anything wrong, kid?” I asked.
Zac shook his head. “Just thinking.” He raised his cigarette to his lips but declined inhaling it. He turned towards me. “Ever wonder if you made the right choice?”
“The right choice?” I repeated. Zac nodded. “With what? Career?”
My brother shrugged. “Just a choice.”
I took a step towards the side, “dude, are you thinking about Nicole?”
Zac made a face, “no!” He exclaimed. “I love her.”
“Good,” I said settling back into my spot. “You scared me there for a second.”
He smiled lightly and flicked his cigarette. “I don’t know what I’m talking about,” he said, dropping the stick to the floor. He stepped it out.
“Taylor? Smoking? This can’t be!” Isaac teased from behind Zac and I. I dropped my cigarette to the floor and stamped it out.
“Nope, it isn’t,” I said with a grin. “My wife hates it.”
“Then it must have been your evil twin Jordan.”
I nodded, “that guy gets into more trouble than anyone else I know.”
Isaac chuckled and joined the two of us in starring off into the distance at whatever it was Zac had been looking at. We stood in silence, backs against the railing, right leg resting on the edge of the building, for more than five minutes. “Well, this is boring,” Isaac announced.
“I was asked to do a Broadway play,” I blurted out.
Both my brothers looked at me strangely.
“You were what?” Zac questioned.
“I was asked to be the Phantom in Webber’s play.”
“You’re kidding,” Isaac said.
I shook my head. “I have to tell the guy who offered me the job my answer by Valentine’s Day. I managed to get an extension from the original date that I had to tell him by. I don’t know what to do.”
Again there was silence. “Well,” Isaac said finally, “that’s a really big offer. To turn something like that down would be career suicide. It would really boost album sales, especially if you advertised in your program.”
“I know,” I said.
We went back to watching the unknown.
Suddenly Zac started laughing, not quiet, normal laughter, but side splitting,
obnoxious laughter. “Dude!” Zac choked out between convulsions. “Have they even SEEN your acting!?”
Isaac cracked up. I had lost the two of them to the reality of my acting skills.
“I’m not that bad,” I spoke up.
That made my two brothers laugh even harder.
“Well, I’m not,” I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest. It wasn’t too long before I cracked a smile. I couldn’t help it, they were sort of right.
“What I don’t get either,” Isaac went on, “is why they’d offer a bass part to
someone who is obviously a tenor.”
The last comment made us laugh even harder. He had a point, but still I had two days to decide whether I would take this lifetime opportunity or leave it and perhaps ruin my good standing name. Whatever my choice was, I needed to know if it would be all right with my brothers and my family. After all, I still had two days. . .