And then it's over.
It seems like no time at all has passed by the time we finish our third and final song of the night. In that moment, knowing that I gave my all to this performance, hearing the sounds of hundreds of strangers applauding and screaming... I feel like I'm moving at the speed of light. But in the middle of it all, the confusion and the fear lingers like a black hole on the edge of my universe.
Shaking off all thought of the anonymous messages, I embrace the high, the euphoria of knowing that I've succeeded at something. Theo, Jace, and Will step up to join me at the front of the stage. Sweaty hands clasped together, we offer a bow and it seems silly, but oh so important.
Monumental.
That's the word that comes to mind.
Like a landmark.
I remember why we chose the name we did. Well, Theo and I chose it together. Back when the band was just a teenage, summer dream. He and I were on the cliff behind his house, looking down at all of Summit.
"Let's start a band," he said.
I scoffed at the suggestion at first, but it didn't take long for him to convince me.
"We're both musicians and your voice is amazing and so is your music."
"But we don't know the first thing about starting a band."
"Sure we do. All you need is passion and skill."
"And probably some more band members than our current two."
"Ah, it'll be easy to find some more. Our school's not that small. There's gotta be some other talented kids somewhere that we haven't met yet."
"Okay, but what would we even call ourselves?"
He squinted out at the Colorado mountain range, tapping his chin. "The Mountineers?"
"Sounds too much like The Lumineers."
"Bah humbug."
"Isn't that, like, copyright infringement, or something?"
"Fine. The Monuments?"
"What kinda name is that?"
Theo offered a shrug. "I dunno. I don't want to be just another band. I want to be more."
"What do you mean?"
"Music is the language of our generation. I want to do something more than just perform. I want to give language to what people like us – people with shared experiences – actually feel. Music does that, y'know?"
"Yeah. Like when you listen to a song and it says exactly what you're feeling even when you can't articulate it yourself."
"Exactly! I want to do that. So, I feel like whatever we call ourselves needs to sort of capture that idea."
I nodded. "What about The Landmarks?"
Theo's face lit up, then drooped. "Almost there, but not quite." And then, "What about Liam and the Landmarks?"
"What? Why do you want my name in the... name?"
"Because you're the brains of this whole operation. Besides – alliteration."
I laughed. "Valid point.
That was the moment it all started for us and look at us now. Three years later, we're standing on the same stage that The Beatles, U2, and Jimi Hendrix performed on.
This is one of those moments in life where you really just have to stop and think. Think about how far you've come, about every little thing that's brought you here – good and bad. But for me, even in the wonder of the moment I'm reminded of the people who aren't here to see me stand on this stage. Mom. Dad. Ezra. Stacy. Lincoln.
It's like my heart is being ripped in half. Because part of me wants to ride the high, while the other part of me keeps pulling me to the ground. This battle never ends. And I'm so, so tired of fighting.
But I smile. Because I need to hold onto the joy of this moment as we smile out at the faces of those in the crowd, family forged by the feast offered at a musician's table. Maybe this is what Dad meant by choosing to walk in joy; not ignoring the pain, but rather just looking away from it for a little while. I wonder if I've been wrong this whole time. Perhaps life is not a choice between one or the other – joy or pain. Maybe it's this careful balance between the two.
I can't help but wish, though, that it were easier to maintain the balance and that the joy was greater than the pain. Because most of the time, it seems like the pain is greater than the joy. And right now, part of me is reaching for something – anything – to help me to find that joy.
So, as we shuffle off the stage, I pull my phone from my pocket and open my messages, scrolling until I come to her name. Stacy.
I have to try. Maybe Theo was right and she wants me to fight for her. I just have to push a little harder.
Me: Hey. Just finished performing at Red Rocks. Wish you were here.
I stare at the screen for a minute before powering it down and shoving it back into my pocket. I hope she sees it. I hope she replies. I hope there's something left of us.
Theo turns to me and puts his hands on my shoulders, wide eyes staring right into mine, a grin stretched across his face. "We did it, man." I smile back at him and he turns to the other guys. "This moment will go down in history as the moment Liam and the Landmarks were born."
"Hey, now," I say. "We haven't made it yet. There's still a long road ahead of us."
Theo rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah."
I laugh. "Let's just... enjoy this moment, okay? Let's just let what's happening right here and now sink in and forget about the future because if we think about it too much then we'll lose what's happening right now."
"I'll drink to that!" Jace says.
At the end of the night, after watching Mumford & Sons and other bands I've never even heard of perform, we pack up our things and hit the road. We pull over at some seedy liquor store in the middle of nowhere. It's already past midnight, but we don't care. We're living for the high because, I think deep down, we all know that there's a low coming for each of us. And we want to enjoy this moment and everything it has to offer.
Somewhere along the way, after sweet-talking the cute liquor store clerk into letting us buy some booze, we pull off along the highway and come to a stop on the damp, rolling hills. I get the sense that something is waiting for us here. Something reckless. Something like youth.
We are young. If only for a fraction of our lives, we get to be young. We get to be foolish and we get to make bad decisions.
So we tumble our way through the hills, Theo making sure the car is securely locked behind us. The sky is ripped open by the dark and the stars bleed light across the night sky. Here, as far from civilization as we've ever been, the universe is brilliant.
In front of us, the sprawling hills turn to woods and the woods turn to mountains. The ground is dotted with orange and green shrubbery, branches falling bare with the cool autumn weather. And at the center of it all, there is a river. It flows from the mountains, winds its way through the woods, and gathers to form a small lake. The water flows constantly, but it is tame – more like a stream than a river.
In this moment, I just need to forget about everything that's broken. I don't know if it's the buzz, or maybe something else, but I suddenly feel like going for a swim.
Flashing my friends a wild grin, I blurt, "Race you to the river! Loser buys drinks for the next month!"
And I'm off, racing through the hills. It takes no time for the others to catch up with me. We're almost neck-and-neck until Theo, seeming to catch a fresh wind, bursts ahead of me.
He glances over his shoulder at us and yells, "Losers!" But, distracted, he trips on a fallen branch and tumbles to the ground. I take the opportunity and race past him. Stripping down to my boxers, I leave a trail of clothes in the dust behind me. The first to arrive at the lake, I run right in, splashing like a wild man. The water is cold, but it wakes me up. Every nerve, every vein, every atom comes alive as blood, like fire, courses through me.
The guys are right behind me, jumping into the water in nothing but their underwear. I might think it was weird if we weren't all drunk.
The lake isn't too deep. It only comes up to our chest at its deepest, but we make the most of it. For a long time, we just splash around and swim and have fun, enjoying the icy water until we're numb to it. It's a wordless kind of fun, but that's the best kind. There's no pressure or expectation to conform to etiquette. We can just be.
After a while, when we're tired of the water, we climb out one by one and lie down on our backs on the hillside. Staring up at the stars, the four of us breathless, we just lie there and don't dare to speak for a long time. Almost like this is our victory campaign. And, in a way, it is.
When Jace and Will head back to the car, Theo and I stay by the lake. We sit there for a long time, our wet, bare bodies cold against the midnight air. But neither of us moves to retrieve our clothes that lay scattered across the earth. And after a while, Theo looks at me as if to ask a question, but then stops.
He tries again and manages to say it this time. "Are we friends, Liam?"
The question takes me by surprise. I kind of just stare at him for a minute, brow furrowed, mouth half open. I'm not exactly sure what he's asking. "Yes," I say finally.
He frowns, chewing on the inside of his lip. "Are you sure? Because for as long as I've known you, I feel like there's been, like, this wall between us. Like maybe there's something you're not telling me."
"That's probably because there is," I say matter-of-factly. "I mean, no one really knows everything about other people. We all have secrets."
He shakes his head, slowly bending the branch he's been holding. "That's not what I'm talking about. I like you, Liam. A lot more than those two idiots." He points a thumb in the direction of the car. "But sometimes I feel like when we're hanging out, there's this fog that comes over you. You get real quiet and... sad. Like before the show tonight. I don't know what was going on with you, but... Liam, you almost blew this for us."
At that, an anger washes over me, but I don't speak. Instead, I just stand up and move to gather my clothes.
"Liam, wait." Theo scrambles after me, retrieving his shirt and jeans. He pulls his arms through the sleeves of his flannel, but doesn't button it as he steps in front of me to keep me from going any further.
"I know you lost your mom and I know that's part of it, but there's something more. Isn't there?" His eyes search mine.
"Theo, stop. Don't." My jaw tenses, nostrils flare as I look up at him with eyes pleading.
"I knew it!" he says. "Please, bro. Tell me what's going on with you."
I laugh. "Why? What do you care?"
"I'm your friend. If something's going on, it's my job to care."
"It's okay. I hereby relieve you of your duties."
"What? No, don't do that. Don't pretend like our friendship doesn't mean anything."
For some reason, my mind immediately thinks of Lincoln. Here I am again, in the exact same situation I was in back then. I never meant for this to happen. I never meant to get too close to someone else.
"Well, maybe it doesn't," I snap, angry that I've found my way back to this place again.
I feel it before I see it. He punches me square in the jaw and sends me staggering backward. He stands over me, shocked, and takes a step back. But I dive for him and we fall to the ground in a tangle of limbs and anger.
Finally, we break apart and pull ourselves to our feet, our lips bleeding and bruised as we stare each other down breathlessly.
"Tell me! What could possibly be going on that it's worth doing this?"
"Leave it alone," I say, spitting the blood from my mouth. The blood and saliva clings to the dewy grass.
I step past him and try to make my way toward the car, but he grabs my shoulder and spins me around to face him. The problem is that I don't want to face him. I can't.
I should tell him.
I can't.
Inside my chest, the war between fear and courage rages. I'm scared to death that if I let this secret out, it'll be like letting a monster loose and I'll never be able to reign it in again. But there's still that part of me that hopes that if I let it all go, then maybe everything won't feel so...
heavy.
"Don't you get it? I can't leave it alone!" His face is intense, desperate – especially now as the bruises begin to form and the cuts begin to bleed.
"Where is this coming from?" I say, arms up. "Why are you so worried all of the sudden?"
"Because I saw the look in your eyes when you walked into the locker room and saw what was written on your locker. You were hurt and angry and scared. And I saw the look in your eyes when you swore to me that you weren't gay. You were lying either about being gay or about knowing why someone would say that."
I swallow, heart racing, terrified by the fact that I thought I'd been hiding the truth all this time, but it turns out that Theo, at least, has seen through the lies. Some of them, anyway. I'm terrified of what he must think of me, how he sees me. And I'm angry that I even care at all. I think of Ezra who, for our whole lives, never seemed to care what people thought of him – I wish I had that kind of courage.
"I just want to know that you're okay. I refuse to lose my best friend to this – whatever it is. Please," Theo cries louder than I'd like and I flinch. His eyes go wide. He looks me up and down. The fires of anger rekindle inside of me and I pull my jeans up, my shirt over my head, and run toward the car with my jacket in my fist.
Behind me, I hear him mutter again. "Please."
And in my head, I say it too.
Please.
That's all I want. To tell Theo that I am not okay.