Night shifts black

“Thanks, Casey. That means a lot. I miss you, too. I’ll be back first thing tomorrow, ok? I really need to do laundry and pay some bills and stuff.” I pause. “Just do me a favor and take advantage of this time alone. Try to talk to Luke, ok? You both love each other and are so important to each other.”

“I can’t do it on my own, Callie. I told you how hard I tried. It’s not up to me.”

“No, but Luke isn’t the same person he was the last time you tried.”

More silence. I’ve given him a lot to think about and am starting to feel good about my decision to separate again. Maybe he’s becoming too important to me, too. A little space will do us both some good.

“Good night, Casey.”

“Good night, Callie. Bring breakfast with you tomorrow.”

I’m not sure if he’s joking or not, but at least the smile is back in his voice.

 

∞∞∞

 

I purchase four new albums after I hang up and download them to my phone. I pop in my headphones and, thirty seconds into the first song, abandon all plans of being productive.

I don’t know what I expected. Maybe it’s because they’ve always been just Luke and Casey to me. My friends whom I miss and can’t wait to get back to after our spontaneous recess. In the bubble world of Luke’s suite, their music was that hesitant strumming on an old beat-up guitar. That was Night Shifts Black. But I was so wrong.

I’d forgotten they are also Luke Craven and Casey Barrett, rock superstars with the awards to prove it, and I actually feel stupid as the saturated music invades my ears. I’m particularly horrified that I let them see my own “art” and even thought for a second I could be in their league. I don’t know why Casey is pretending to work with my verses, but the thought that I had even offered to “help” him write music would make me laugh if not for the fact that it’s so humiliating.

I’d heard of Night Shifts Black, of course I had, but I hadn’t even realized half these songs were theirs. Luke’s celebrity appeal probably made them more popular in the mainstream than their style of music otherwise would have invited, but it definitely resonates with me, and I love every second of it. Luke’s voice is powerful, beautiful and haunting at the same time. I listen closely to the percussion, blown away by Casey’s skill. To think they constructed these songs, created this mastery from nothing. To think that my silly mirror poem might sound like this in their heads.

I can’t help myself. I pick up my phone again and find Casey’s number. I begin typing.

 

“Listening to your stuff now.”

“Yeah? What do you think?”

“That I can’t believe you even spent two seconds on my stupid poems.”

“Haha i love your poems”

“Why didn’t you tell me you guys were so good?”

“I tried. You wouldn’t listen.”

 

I actually do laugh out loud at that one. He has a point, and I’m so filled with awe, honored that someone who could create masterpieces like this would have the patience for my own bumbling attempts at expression. After our previous spat, I can’t possibly return to him right now, but I want to. So badly.

 

“It’s incredible, Casey. Really. I wish I had listened sooner. You guys are legit.”

“Thanks. Wait until you hear what I’m thinking for your song.”

“I don’t know if I can wait after hearing this. Is it Friday yet?”

“I wish. Hey, it’s weird here. Hurry back.”

“Not going well with Luke?”

“Does Watching TV together in awkward silence count?”

“Are you fighting?”

“No.”

“Then sure.”

“haha”

“You and I spent hours watching TV in awkward silence. Were you texting someone to rescue you then?”

“It was only awkward because I was trying to figure out the best way to get a kiss. Not the same with Luke.”

 

My heart pounds and I have to force air into my lungs.

 

“Really? You didn’t try very hard.”

“You seemed really into Dead Head. I can’t compete with zombies.”

 

I grin. I know he is.

 

“You know, I’m really enjoying all the pictures of you on the internet. Do they not let you wear clothes in the photo shoots? Is that a contract thing or something?”

“Fu

“Not complaining. Just wondering why drummers and lead singers can’t afford anything but undershirts.”

 

A photo pops up, and I laugh. It’s Casey at some formal event with a tux, tie, and signature goofy smile. His tie is loose of course, top button open, hair messy, but he looks amazing.

 

“Hmm…not sure if I like you better with or without clothing.”

“Come back over and we can figure it out.”

 

My blood pounds.

 

“Tempted. But nope. We’re still on break. Hey, did you know there’s an actual movement called ‘Team Casey’?”

“hahaha You should see the t-shirts and hats. They’re not bad actually. I give Jessica M. props.”

“Jessica M?”

“The founder of ‘Team Casey.’ Cool girl actually.”

“You’ve met her?”

“Of course. A few times. Thanks to Jessica M there was actually a Team Casey before a Team Luke.”

“Your ego never ceases to amaze me.”

“Ego! These are just facts, babe. Get used to it. Wait…are you jealous?”

 

I realize then that I’m still smiling. I’ve been gri

 

“Maybe. Do you think Luke would be jealous if I joined? Am I allowed to join more than one team?”

“Kinda defeats the purpose of picking a team don’t you think?”

“Oh? And what exactly is the purpose of picking a ‘team’?”

“Hmm you know I’ve never thought about it. …pre and post-show rioting?”

“haha. Casey fans vs. Luke fans?”

“Something like that.”

“Are there Team Eli and Team Sweeny fans too?”

“Yeah, but not as many. They’d get clobbered in a riot.”

“OMG I love this song. I didn’t even know this was yours!”

“Which one?”

“All Hands. Don’t hate me but I actually thought this was a Cartwright song.”

“Cartwright?????? Ok, I’m putting the phone down now. We’re done.”

“I’m sorry!!! But you have to admit, you guys sound a little bit like Cartwright.”

“No!! Cartwright sounds a little bit like us. Even though they don’t. Like, at all. god Kevin Ramerson is such a douche too.”

“Kevin Ramerson?”

“Cartwright’s embarrassingly inferior version of Luke Craven. We toured with them four years ago. Never again.”

“Not on good terms I guess?”

“Yeah right. Know what that bastard posted for Luke after Elena? ‘Karma, Bitch.’”

“What??? No!!”

“Yeah…exactly. Total dick.”

“Wow. Well, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you cry. My point was that I love All Hands.”

“ha I know. Luke and I actually wrote All Hands in a single afternoon. We’d just gotten back from our Desperate Times tour and swore we weren’t going to pick up a guitar for a week and then bam, we had our next hit. It’s one of my faves too. You know it almost didn’t make the album.”

“Really?? How’s that possible!”

“The Label thought it was too much of a departure from the other tracks. Didn’t fit.”

“You mean, it sounded too much like a Cartwright song.”

“Shut up. I hate you.”

 

And I miss him so much right then I start counting the hours until morning.