It was over.

They left the next morning. Braden had been the only one to say goodbye. My mom asked later if I had said my goodbyes earlier because I wasn’t outside when they picked up Braden. I couldn’t answer her. I didn’t want to see the judgment in her eyes.

Four months later, I was trying to shove my way through a crowd of girls to grab a drink from the kitchen. When I got there, I heard a girl squeal, “Hubba hubba! Luke Skeet is going to help me birth my babies.”

I whipped around. The crowd of girls were surrounding something. Moving to get a better look, I saw an iPad with a YouTube clip playing. I couldn’t see what was on the clip, but hearing the excited squeals, the bottom of my stomach fell out. They were watching my band.

Her friends laughed, and another said, “Shut up. He’s my future husband.”

“I heard they’re from Grant West.”

“No way?! Are you serious? Isn’t that clip in Nebraska?”

The first girl spoke, nodding like she was close to the band, “It is. My cousin used to watch them play at some bar there.”

“Grant West, as in two towns over?”

I couldn’t move. I knew they’d been writing music, and Braden mentioned an impromptu tour last week, but this time I was hearing strangers talking about them. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the group of girls huddled in the corner, clutching their phones, staring at their screens with rapt attention. I was riveted by their reactions. These girls spoke as if Luke and the band were gods.

“Can you move?”

That last question was directed at me. I glanced back, saw a line had formed behind me, and moved to the side.

“Bri?” Wes said my name. He was tall and angelic-looking with blond hair, blue eyes, and overall dreamy. I could almost see the halo attached to his head. He was one of those guys that was too-nice-of-a-guy. He was the lead singer of my new band. Or, correction, I had joined his band, Callen. He smiled at me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I gave him a small smile, but rolled my shoulder a bit so he’d release me. As he did, an apology flashed in his eyes, and he moved back a step. I saw his lips move and knew he was going to say another ‘nice guy’ comment—one that would make me feel like a bitch— so before he could speak, I said, “This is a good gig.”

“What?” He leaned closer and then nodded after I repeated myself. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, it is. The guy who lives here said there’d be a big crowd. There’s a bunch of other bands here, too. I don’t know if they’re all playing, but he booked two others.” He signaled to a group of people standing, clustered in a small circle. One guy was bobbing his head in rhythm to the music, and another guy was beating out a fast pace with his fingers in the air. Wes said, “That’s Jersey over there.” I caught a small twinge of jealousy in his gaze when he mentioned the band. “They have Avi. You heard about her, right?”

I nodded. I knew Avi. Her voice was raved about by others, but that wasn’t how I knew her. I wondered if she still kept in touch with my brother, and thinking about him, I glanced back at the girls who were still gushing over their phones, watching videos of the band that I should be with.

Wes followed my gaze and made a sound. “I see.”

I looked at him. “What?”

“Sustain.” His eyebrows shot up, and he ducked his head, looking dejected. “I get it.”

“Sustain?”

“Your old band.”

I continued to frown at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Sustain.” He stared at me. “They used to be your band.”

“My band’s name is Braille.”

He sighed, his mouth moving in a grimace. “I thought Callen was…never mind.” Then he moved closer again and leaned toward my ear. Resting a hand on my shoulder as he pointed to the squealing girls, he spoke clearly, “They’re talking about your old band. They changed their name since you’re not with them. They aren’t Braille anymore. It’s Sustain now.”

I moved his hand off me. “Is this a joke?” Why hadn’t Braden told me this? But I knew, even as I thought that, I knew why he didn’t. It was because it would be more final. They were a different band. They were moving on without me. New name. New member. New direction. I was out. Four months later, it still hurt.

“No joke. They’re getting big, Bri. You must be proud. I mean, that’s your brother, your cousin, your b…your friend.”

“How big? What do you mean by that?”

“It’s like they exploded this week. I mean, they were big already, but now they’re signed, and they’re traveling. It was kind of genius. I heard their label wanted them to do a mini-tour, test out some of their new material before doing a big launch. They’ve got fans all over now. They were picked up to headline for another band, too. That’s huge, but,” he was studying me intently, “you must know all about this.”

My lips pressed in a flat line. “Yeah, Braden calls home all the time. I must’ve forgotten about a lot of this.”

A renewed squeal came from the girls’ corner again, and they began waving their phones around. I could hear their voices over the noise in the room, but the music paused in that slight second, and I heard Luke’s voice fill the air. It was slight, but they had programmed all their phones to play at the same instant, so Luke’s voice rose in volume.

“Hello, Phoenix!” Luke called out.

Phoenix. They said Nebraska before.

I needed a beer. “When do we play again?”

Wes had been watching me the whole time. “You didn’t know any of this, did you?”

I couldn’t answer. I didn’t want to.

He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Bri. I thought you knew. Hell, I thought you would’ve been proud. They have a website for their band, too. There’s not much on there, just their future shows and pictures, but there are lots of comments. A lot of girls go on there. They’re nuts for Luke and Braden.”

“When do we go on again?” Please, shut up.

“Um,” he hesitated.

“Wes,” I snapped, glaring at him. “I’m going to go outside and drink. I need to know when to come back in.”

“I can come get you. We don’t have a set time, probably a half hour or so.”