A Rocker's Melody (Dust and Bones)(52)

The crowd stomped and clapped and screamed until it sounded like they  would bring the Garden down with their enthusiasm. After the band had  finished their set list and gone through three planned encores, Dylan  re-took the stage alone, armed with his old acoustic guitar. The one  he'd been playing the night he met Melody. The one he'd almost  destroyed, the same way he'd almost destroyed his life.

"You've been waiting for this one all night," Dylan said. The crowd went  wild-they knew what was coming. The song Dylan and Melody had written  together was bigger than anything the band had done before. It had  earned them legions of new fans, and was probably the reason they had  sold out Madison Square Garden, which was by far the largest venue they  had ever played.

"I'm going to make you wait a little bit longer," Dylan teased. "But I  promise, the anticipation will make it sweeter." More cheers of  approval. From where the rest of the band waited in the wings, Melody  watched as Dylan hammed it up, smiling fondly at his antics.

"He's so good up there," Jesper marveled.

"He's good everywhere," Melody said.

"You're biased," Rip scoffed.

"What do you guys think?" Dylan asked the crowd. "Should I call my friends back out here?"

Shouts of "Yes!" and excited screams could be heard from the crowd.

"He's really enjoying this," Tank noted.

"It's been months," Melody explained. "Sometimes I think he's tempted to  narrate me at night. ‘And coming out of the bathroom after a successful  shower, the best thing to happen to this bedroom in years, Melody  Hopkins.'"

"Not gonna lie. That is not at all how I pictured you guys spending your nights," Tank deadpanned.

"On rhythm guitar and vocals, the guy who keeps it all together: Jesper Swenson. Get that sexy Swedish ass out here, Swenson."

Jesper strolled back out to thunderous applause. Dylan let him riff on  his guitar for a few seconds before he retook center stage.

"He's spent the last decade banging the shit out of those skins, and always makes sure we keep it real: Rip Van Heisel."

Rip swaggered back out and took a seat behind his drums. His solo was  epic, rapid, pounding and punishing. "Did you hear that, Madison Square  Garden?" he shouted after he was done. Madison Square Garden responded  with a wave of fresh screams and cheers.

Dylan was on a roll, and didn't give the audience members a chance to  catch their breaths before saying, "He plays those strings like he knows  a language the rest of us are dying to learn, and the bastard is always  in a good mood. Let me hear some noise for Tank Stanfield."

Tank re-entered the spotlight, his fingers already flying with a guitar  solo that stretched on and on. As the solo faded, he kept playing a  quiet, easy background as Dylan leaned into the microphone once more.

"And you all know our newest member, the woman who's been saving my ass  personally and professionally since the day I met her. We're so lucky to  have her with us on bass guitar-Melody Hopkins."

Melody began her bass solo. Halfway through her riff, she changed the  tune, and the crowd grew impossibly loud as they recognized the music.  She grinned and gave Dylan a challenging look. Behind her, the rest of  the band joined in as they began to play their hit single.

Dylan grinned back at her, strummed his guitar, put his mouth against the microphone, and sang.

"You walked into the club that night         

     



 

Bourbon on the lips you used

To kiss the one who owns you

Then you became my muse."

The fun was infectious and the audience couldn't get enough; neither  could the band. They were energized by the roar of the crowd, and Melody  knew they were all excited at the prospect of more songs like this,  more concerts like this, a bright future filled with music and promise.

Dylan kept singing:

"You didn't know a simple glance

Would change your life forever

I didn't know an angry slap

Would change mine for the better."

Melody pretended to glare at Dylan as he sang the angry slap verse; the  audience howled in response. The concert where he'd kissed her and she'd  slapped him had become legendary in the Dust and Bones fan community.  Guys in the audience held up signs reading Slap ME, Melody!

"You think you've got a choice to make

But if it's offered, why don't you take?

You want it to be easy but …

If it's easy, it ain't love

If it's easy, it ain't love

If it's easy, it ain't love."

The chorus repeated several times, and the band had arranged an anthem  version to perform live. Melody launched into her extended part with  gusto, but the others didn't kick into their pre-planned rendition. The  crowd seemed to draw a collective breath-maybe something had gone  wrong?-and their screams died down to a hush. Then the band stopped  playing entirely, and Melody froze. She glanced over her shoulder to see  what had happened.

Her heart stopped.

Dylan Bennett was on his knees. His hands were open to her, cradling a  ring in his palms. The band was thick platinum, as opposed to a more  traditional, dainty ring that she'd have to take off every time she  picked up a guitar. This ring would become part of her hand, become an  extension of her body and soul. Rather than having a diamond or other  jewel that would similarly get in the way of her playing, the ring was  unadorned, save for tiny musical scales which had been etched into the  platinum. She recognized the notes to the chorus of the song they'd  written together, the one that they had paused in the middle of, right  here, right now: If it's easy, it ain't love.

"You know what you fucking mean to me," he said into the microphone. "I  want to make beautiful music with you for the rest of my life."

Through the tears that were streaming down her cheeks and fanning out  around her ever-widening smile, Melody laughed. "Cheesy, Bennett," she  teased, feeling as though her heart were about to burst. She had never  imagined this day would come-and certainly not that it would come so  soon-but she had never been so happy in her life. Here, on stage,  singing their song...it was a perfect moment, despite the fact that it  was a public proposal, and Melody preferred to keep such things private.

"You like me cheesy," he argued. "Is that a yes?"

"You just had to do it right here in front of everyone, huh? But it's a  yes," she said, loud and proud into her microphone. Dylan stood, and was  by her side in an instant. The ring was on her finger, and Dylan's  mouth was on hers, hard and familiar. The guys picked up the song again  and began to harmonize the chorus. The audience joined in, filling the  Garden with joyous echoes of their song:

"If it's easy, it ain't love

If it's easy, it ain't love

If it's easy, it ain't love."

"It's definitely love," Dylan whispered against her ear.

"I concur," Melody said.

It was the one thing they would never argue about.

The Loft was quiet. Rip was surfing the net, and Tank was reading a  book. Jesper was pretty sure he and his girl had broken up, though he  hadn't mentioned anything about it. Dylan and Melody were out of  town-they had flown back east to spend Christmas with Hop's relatives.  The image of Dylan meeting Craig Hopkins' extended family brought a  smile to Tank's lips.

Hop was a family man at heart. The band had gotten to know him a lot  better since Melody had become a permanent member of Dust and Bones, and  they had begun to see beyond his gruff exterior. Hop was exactly the  kind of father that Tank wished he could have been; it made his  ever-present guilt boil over and scald his insides, burning him with a  desire for more.

You can do better. You can be better. You deserve better.

Did he, though?

"Man, that proposal stunt got us a lot of new female fans," Rip announced.

"It wasn't a stunt," Jesper chided. "Genuine emotion."

Rip chuckled. "Whatever it was, we've got everyone from Beliebers to  Goth chicks jumping ship and boarding ours. The pussy parade starts  behind me."         

     



 

Tank tried to be excited, but he just felt hollow. He'd felt this way  for years, of course, but it had always been easy enough to ignore it.  Now, it seemed, he couldn't do that anymore.

"You're awfully quiet over there," Jesper noted, shooting Tank a calculating glance.

Tank shrugged. "I've just got a lot on my mind." He wondered if he  should try talking about it with Jesper, who was a freakishly good  listener...but the idea of putting his heart on display was terrifying.  Melody had told him it was never too late, but Tank was afraid she was  wrong about that.

His phone buzzed, interrupting his morose thoughts. The name on the  Caller ID screen read Charity. So not her real name. She was an  occasional New York based fuck buddy of his-she drifted in and out of  his life as her relationships dictated, always returning to him when  another romance of hers fell through. He took her back every time  because, though he'd never admit it aloud, he liked having a warm body  in his bed that belonged to a woman he actually knew. Even if it was  only her body he knew and not, say, her real name.