No one wanted to lose Charlie. It wasn't only Liam who felt that way.
Liam narrowed his eyes. "No, what I'm saying is, you have a damn good gig set up for you in this band and if you've got even one brain cell, you wouldn't walk away from it."
He could sound deadly serious when he tried to be. But even Charlie noticed the way that Liam had seized up when he'd mentioned the word 'quit.'
A silence blanketed the four of them, no one saying a word as Liam's statements replayed on loop in their heads. Only minutes had passed since Charlie had arrived, but something had clearly changed in that short span of time.
Charlie was repeating it to himself, over and over and wondering if Liam was right. He supposed he would be stupid to leave, in some ways — a tour of the United States with a great up and coming band was no easy feat to pull off and might not happen again.
The Finks had been there for Charlie as he'd furthered his career with quite literally, his own two hands. For so long, he'd celebrated that in the end he had not had to use his father's fame to get him somewhere in life. The very thought of doing so had disgusted him, and all Charlie had ever wanted was to reach the top without anyone's help, including Kurt's. His aspirations had come true plainly because he was good at what he loved to do.
Yet looking into Liam's anxious stare, Charlie could feel the twitching reminder that his belief wasn't as true as he'd first thought it to be.
Kurt had helped him out on this one, whether Charlie wanted to admit it or not. If Liam hadn't been such a fanatical fan of his dad and the rest of Nirvana, he may have never reached out to Charlie in the first place. It was a fearful truth that Charlie had contemplated for some time.
He was just now beginning to realize how true it was.
Charlie looked away, glaring hard down at the floor and questioning if he was even thinking straight. Did he want to quit The Finks? Or was his anger, so potent after all the stolen time and sanity that Liam had taken from him, too strong to handle?
But there would always be another band. Another path, another goal to be reached no matter how unattainable. Charlie didn't think he'd mind the feeling of starting over from scratch. Throwing his guitar around his neck and playing the hell out of it in someone's garage, daydreaming of having the kind of band that you'd boast about someday.
He didn't need the fame -- he could live without it, and in fact, he might have even needed a vacation from it.
What it came down to was doing what he loved and doing it happily. He didn't want to resent the feeling of picking up his guitar just because Liam told him to. It wasn't the kind of thing Charlie thought he could endure for much longer.
So why delay the process any further?
He took a deep breath, looking squarely ahead and slipping his hands into the pockets of his black jeans.
"I quit."
Liam, who'd briefly turned his back to Charlie in order to mutter obscenities under his breath, froze.
"What?"
"Dude, you don't want to do that," Grant interrupted, jumping to his feet and holding his hand out. It was a physical warning, or maybe even a desperate appeal, that Charlie stop.
Charlie looked into all of their faces, surprised by how at ease he felt. The two words, the ones he'd been waiting to say for longer than he'd actually thought, didn't feel so bad leaving his lips. It might have even been the easiest thing that he'd done since confessing to Billie that he felt strongly for her.
one-hundred-thirty-four.
Start from the beginning
