Chapter Text
Matt rolled his eyes and let the scuffed toe of his sneak slam into Zack’s shin. It was maybe unwarranted, but to be fair the rhythm guitarist had been bouncing his leg for twenty minutes now and Matt was sick of the rustle of his shorts and how his knee would intermittently hit the underside of the cheap folding table he was sitting at. They were pressed for space in the garage with the table, a few mismatched patio chairs, a couch and Jimmy’s drum kit, but it was the only space they could practice in that didn’t cost a cent. Matt’s parents weren’t thrilled, but it was better than him getting arrested for breaking into the school music room - again.
They were given creative control as long as they didn’t tear the garage apart and Matt knew at some point they’d need some fresh drywall - there was a Zack-shaped hole in one part - and a lick of paint. But they had friends they could cajole into helping them and for now, Matt wasn’t too interested in what quality of the walls. Not when they were waiting for Jimmy to haul his ass to practice, with Brian in tow.
Matt had met Brian a few times now, considering most of the time he was joined to Jimmy’s hip. They seemed to have this entirely different friendship that existed outside of the real world and Matt had accepted it because Jimmy’s playing was adventurous and it was what they needed to put the final touches on the album. It seemed insane to think of the record, their first with a record label and that there was some traction around Orange County. They weren't looking for a lead guitarist - and frankly, Matt was sick of Jimmy trying to get Brian in the band - but they’d taken a vote and everyone agreed to see what Brian could do.
Matt knew what he could do; Jimmy spoke highly of his ability whenever he could, making little comments like ’Brian could rip a solo in this part and it’d be awesome’ or ’you know, Brian played this scale last week that sounds like the chorus in To End the Rapture’. Brian was clearly talented, but Matt had a specific vision, and throwing out their lineup so close to release seemed like an immature move. Metallica sure as shit wouldn’t add a guy, so why were they?
He was distracted from his thoughts by the sound of a car door and he looked up as Val hurried up the driveway. She had a six-pack under one arm and a grocery bag in the other and she dumped the beer and bag onto the surface of the table with a huff. “They didn’t have the cool ranch Doritos,” she said, unpacking popcorn and chips. “And I could only swipe a six pack from my dad.”
Matt reached for a beer and cracked it open, taking a full gulp before wiping his foaming top lip off on his forearm. “Jimmy’ll be pissed,” he grinned and tore into the cheese Doritos and shoved a handful in his mouth.
He felt somewhat more relaxed now she was there, an ever present calm to his storm. It wasn’t like he was nervous, per say. Brian was an okay dude and Jimmy vouched for him completely, but maybe Matt was too hopeful, too sure, too expectant. This record was going to do amazing things for the band, he knew it. Felt it in his bones. The addition of Brian - even just to jam - was an unknown variable that he hadn’t extrapolated on, in all his dreams that ran through his head. The original line up was great, what they’d done so far was great. Even if Brian was an insanely talented guitar player, it didn’t mean they needed him.
“Considering he prefers to sleep in a laundromat some nights, I’m not going to give him too much credit for his chip flavour choices,” Val smiled and sat down next to Matt on the small couch, their legs touching from knee to hip.
Matt flushed a little - was always stupidly awkward around her - and shovelled another handful of chips into his mouth. Things were tentative between them; he was too young to have the conversation and for the most part, she was happy to exist in the moment; hooking up whenever they were alone - which they weren’t in any regularity - and she’d let him hold her hand when they went to the movies.
She was his sounding board too; a role he didn’t really trust anyone else to play - well, maybe Jimmy if she wasn’t around - and she’d gently eased him through his trepidation to jam with Brian. She reminded him that even if they gelled, he didn’t necessarily have to join the band, and that he had equal say in what happened. Oh, and that he could be really great, and maybe Matt would want him to join.
Either way, he had a lot of feelings and when he heard the telltale rattle of Jimmy’s van rumbling down the street, he drained the rest of the beer and set the bottle aside.
It was too fucking hot out, Brian decided as he slumped down in the front seat of Jimmy's van. Never mind that he knew the reason his shirt was actually sticking to his back was his own anxiety at what he had let Jimmy talk him into. It was a bullshit idea anyways. The Sanders guy had told Jimmy they didn't even want a lead guitarist, so what were they even doing here? Jimmy. Naturally. The bastard had a talent for persuasion that was probably illegal in most states, just not California.
The van rattled to a stop in a driveway that Brian didn't know, though he recognized the little Honda already parked there. Val diBenedetto was one of the coolest chicks he had ever met, and seemed to have joined forces with Jimmy to talk the others into this bullshit idea. She seemed pretty attached to Matt the other times they had met, but when Brian had asked Jimmy about their relationship status Jimmy had just rolled his eyes in that noncommittal way that meant either there was nothing there worth asking about, or that he knew something and it wasn't any of Brian's damned business. Still, he had gotten the hint and dropped it, especially after Jimmy had given him that long, knowing sort of look that had Brian hastily changing the subject to less fraught topics than Matt Sanders eye colour (Green? Brown? Hazel? Brian would die before he asked).
“C'mon,” Jimmy grinned before climbing out of the driver's side, “unless you've turned chicken on me.”
Brian rolled his eyes and glared before tumbling out and retrieving his guitar from where he had secured it in the back in its hard-sided case. It was only a moment before he was trailing Jimmy up the driveway, squinting into the comparative darkness of the open garage door, sharply contrasted against the bright sunlight that beat down on him. They were all there, slouched, looking tired and bored and, in Matt's case, vaguely suspicious.
“You came!” The blonde girl hopped up from her seat next to Matt, grinning and throwing an arm around Brian's shoulders. “Cmon, I got doritos and you can grab a beer,” she whirled, darting away just in time to slap Jimmy's hand as it started to come away with the necks of two bottles in one big hand
“I couldn't get that many, damnit Jimmy!”
“I was getting one for Brian!” The drummer protested, but clearly Val knew the glint in Jimmy's eye as well as Brian did, and deftly hooked one of the bottles away from him. With a deft pop against the table she smacked the lid off the bottle and handed it to Brian.
Brian's eyes were still a little dazzled from the sun but he thanked her, then eyed up the others. Not… unfriendly, precisely, but cautiously curious. Matt was the only one who had his jaw set, and Brian shifted his weight a little.
“Thanks,” he smiled at Val, “where should I set up?”
Before she could answer, Jimmy had swept Brian's guitar off his shoulders and busied himself with one of the amps they had set up, mumbling and swearing as he fiddled with cords the other guy that Brian didn't know so well at all -Zack, Jimmy had introduced him the last time they had met- climbed out of his seat to help, slapping Jimmy's hands away from the cables and telling him to sit his ass down.
Brian stared a little uncertainly at Matt, noting the big shoulders, the additional height. As tall as Jimmy, and maybe a little broader. “So…” he began, then grimaced, “Jimmy got to you too, I guess?”
Matt didn’t distrust Brian. He didn’t know him well enough to make a determination on his character it Brian spoke so highly of him that Matt figured he had to be halfway decent. In fact, Jimmy sung his praises more often than not and after Matt got over his jealousy - Jimmy was more than a one-best-friend kinda guy - he allowed himself to believe it was entirely possible that Brian was the guitar genius Jimmy said.
It still didn’t mean they needed a lead guitarist, though.
He felt something in his stomach sink as Jimmy led Brian up the driveway and awkward introductions were exchanged. Matt stood, using his height advantage to stake claim over the band - over the garage, his friends, his creative plans - and regarded Brian closely without making it too obvious.
He was a solid dude himself, muscled shoulders, tanned forearms and scruff on his chin. He didn’t look any older than Matt and if Jimmy hadn’t told him, he wouldn’t know that they shared the same birthday month. It was useless information, and he was uneasy as Val fawned over him. He had another sinking thought - what if Matt lost her? He couldn’t lose his vision for the band and his girlfriend in one foul swoop.
“Hey,” Matt greeted and shrugged a shoulder, looking at Jimmy fussing over Zack as he set up Brian’s guitar. “He’s a hard guy to say no to,” Matt finally agreed with reluctance.
“You bet your ass you can’t say no to me,” Jimmy crowed
Matt rolled his eyes and flipped him off and watched as he copped Zack’s elbow to his chest and a warning growl to back off.
Matt wasn’t used to feeling off kilter, usually able to rely on his confidence to get him through most situations so it was a little confronting to face the situation without anything to say. Whether he was lucky or not, Jimmy slung an arm around his neck and pulled him into a headlock that a swift jab to the ribs dislodged.
“Aren’t you excited?” Jimmy demanded and dug his own fingertips into Matt’s ribs in retaliation.
Matt huffed and gave his friend a gentle shove. “It’s on you if he’s shit.”
Brian nicked his guitar back from Zack, who had taken it off of Jimmy when he had also relieved him of the cables, but didn't quite dare glare back at Matt.
“I'm not shit,” he called back, trying to sound casual without sounding like an asshole. He didnt need this. He had the Music Institute. He had a whole potential career without these jerk-offs who didn't think they needed a lead guitarist anyways. Still. He had heard some of what they'd written thanks to Jimmy and he had been reluctantly impressed. Matt had one thing right. Jimmy was hard to say no to.
“Got it,” Zacky announced as the amp buzzed, squealed, then settled into a low hum that he hastily turned down.
“Yeah,” Brian settled the strap more comfortably around his shoulders and slid his hand over the familiar shape, fingers ghosting over the strings before they settled. “The fuck am I supposed to do here?”
“Play what you showed me last night,” Jimmy demanded. He had abandoned Matt for the doritos, grumbling at the flavour until Val's converse booted him in the shin.
“Ohh baby, what I showed you last night?” Brian cooed, smirking, “Is that really what you want me to show everybody?” He was teasing, of course but Jimmy burst out laughing and threw a chip at his head, and Brian laughed.
He had started on something the night before, though it didn't feel nearly ready to be showing off to anyone. Still, there were multiple pairs of expectant eyes on him and Jimmy's foot was tapping in the tight rhythm. After a few quick notes to test the tuning (not too bad) on his guitar, Brian picked out the notes he had played for Jimmy over the track the other man had said was the intro track to their album. It wasn't long, god knew it wasn't finished and he thought the end needed something a little cleaner, but Jimmy was grinning and Zack apparently had a shitty poker face because his eyes were narrow; he didn't look upset, so much as… intrigued? Brian didn't know him well enough to say for sure.
“It's only off the cuff,” Brian rolled his eyes towards Jimmy, his fingers moving through what he could remember of the chord progression for the original guitar part to the song. He had quite liked it, liked how good it felt on the ear, and now Zack was grinning and reaching for his own guitar.
Matt felt more increasingly uncomfortable as Brian steeled himself with his guitar and managed to look totally at home as if he wasn’t under close watch of everyone else. He seemed almost bored - aloof maybe? - and Matt just settled back down on the couch to watch him.
Matt wasn’t sure what he was hoping for. If Brian sucked, it’d kill dead any idea of adding him to the band. If he was incredible, Matt would have to acknowledge and appreciate the extra flair he could bring into the band if he ever allowed himself to contemplate it. If he was good, Matt may need to backpedal and he rarely liked to do that even for the good of the band. What he was most scared of was if Brian was more talented than him.
It was a stupid, teenage fear, but Matt had put literal blood, sweat and tears into the band and he wasn’t going to let it fall apart. But who was he to stand in the way of something that could be great?
Matt couldn’t identify the feeling he had as Brian played, nuanced and precise even if it was off the cuff. He hardly looked like he put in any effort at all, but he could tell that Zack was impressed and Jimmy was grinning like a loon. Matt could admit it was good - really good - and there was something about it that seemed to fit without it ever really feeling like it was missing from the original song.
Jimmy dug the toe of his shoe into Matt’s calf and their eyes met. Jimmy was grinning, chewing loudly through the Doritos and gave a little wiggle of his eyebrows.
Matt exhaled an annoyed breath through his nose and reluctantly looked at Brian. “It’s not bad,” he finally allowed, though he wasn’t going to fawn over it.
“It's not bad,” Zacky scoffed, rolling his eyes, but he smiled over at Brian, somewhere between anxious and delighted.
Brian glared at Jimmy, entirely blaming him for Matt's lukewarm response. It was better than not bad. “It could use some tweaking,” he allowed grudgingly. He'd like to see the other man pull off anything half so good, but he kept to himself. “Might sound better with the full band underneath it.” He glanced around, “where's your bassist? Thought you had a bassist.”
“He'll be along,” Jimmy waved off the question with a chip in his fingers. “Dont worry about it.” He turned expectant eyes towards Val.
“Definitely not bad,” she agreed, “i'd love to hear you guys jam with him,” she offered, “have you learned any of the songs?”
Brian had, though it cost him to admit it. “Yeah, I know a couple,” he allowed, glancing over at the other guitarist. “That's some good writing,” he said grudgingly, “good groove.”
Zack lit up like a light bulb, as if recognizing the admission was a greater compliment than it sounded. “Yeah? Jimmy played you the demos?”
“He won't shut up about them,” Brian snorted, feeling his mouth tug in a reluctant grin as the other man dug his own guitar out and began to set it up.
Matt opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. He slammed his mouth shut quickly and felt the subtle squeeze of Val’s hand on his thigh made him blush and it was as far from his usual cool exterior that he felt exposed. He bit down on his lip ring and realised he was actually screwing this entire thing up and he had to rectify it somehow so he didn’t lose his band or his friendships.
“It’s good,” he finally blurted out and slid to the edge of the couch, his hands on his knees. “More than good, really.” He swallowed and looked at Jimmy whose gaze was curious and encouraging and Matt didn’t need him to speak to know Jimmy was waiting for something a bit better.
Matt stood and smoothed his hands down his thighs and moved around Zack, sitting down on his amp. “What else would you add?” He asked Brian. “To that song, I mean,” he clarified. “There’s maybe something missing.”
“Yeah,” Jimmy chimed in, mid chew. “Bri, show him that solo? The E sharp?”
Matt looked between the two of them and chanced a look at Val. There was an undercurrent of excitement even if Matt still felt the same rolling trepidation. “We could jam on it?”
“The E sharp?” Brian glanced between Matt and Jimmy, questioning. Matt seemed to have this thing he did with his lip ring that was distracting as all hell, biting at it, teeth clicking against the metal. Were they actually asking? Brian may not have been the most enthusiastic guy about all of this, but even he knew better than to criticize someone else's music. Unless it was Jimmy, obviously. Finally, he slid into the bit that he knew Jimmy was referencing.
“It did feel like something was missing,” he agreed cautiously as he moved through the last few notes. “I'm not… I thought this,” he paused and tapped out a few notes, “if it went up here, instead of down? Shifting up an octave, not quite a key change.”
Something flickered in Zacky's eyes, something closer to delight, maybe a bit of chagrin, but there wasn't the resentment that Brian had expected.
“That's it!” Jimmy grinned, “he was playing this the other day and it's perfect, isn't it?”
“Its not,” Brian broke in, “Fuck, I don't know what comes after that, and if something doesnt come after that-”
“It will sound like shit,” Zacky choruses with him and for a brief, startled moment they stared at each other, then burst out laughing.
“Guitarists, am I right?” Jimmy threw a chip at Val, who caught it and popped it in her mouth. “One brain cell between them. Fuck it, let's jam it, see how it sounds.” He pulled himself to his feet and settled behind his kit, giving an experimental roll of the snare.
Matt stood as Jimmy situated himself behind his kit and reached for his microphone. There was another set of worries he had when realising he’d need to sing in front of Brian and he had no fucking idea why that concept was so terrifying. The guy was no one to Matt, Jimmy’s other best friend who, okay, was pretty goddamn talented but Matt was seldom nervous to perform in front of friends.
It was annoying and he felt his brow crease as the song started, the familiarity able to reset some of Matt’s anxiety but it still wasn’t quite erased from his mind. He swapped his microphone back and forth between his hands, running his thumb along the cracked black plastic. He’d need to replace it, but money was tight and he had to make do.
The song rolled along like usual and his vocals were as good as normal. He caught Val’s tiny smile and it filled him with the same confidence it always did, until Brian was playing and the song sounded better than it ever had before. He clenched his teeth, angry with himself that he hadn’t been able to see the gap in the song for a more detailed solo, so blinded by his own need to make the band happen that he’d overlooked it.
Brian grit his teeth and tried to follow Zacky. Listening for the cues and the steady, familiar thrash of Jimmy's drums was already like hearing a second heartbeat inside his own body, like a part of himself, but playing with the other two was terribly new. Jimmy told them which songs he knew (because he had helped Brian learn them by ear), and Brian did his damnedest to not fuck it up. He did, inevitably, make the occasional misstep and he could feel Zacky's eyes on him, a steady, curious green stare that flickered when he fucked up, but lit when he threw in the occasional embellishment. He tries not to show the other man up; he wasn't the one who had written these parts and laid them down, and god they were catchy. The left-handed guitarist was shreddy and groovy as fuck, and Brian found himself again unwillingly impressed by his chops and his abandon.
Then there was Matt. There was a raw, voracious fury in the singer that tore across the other instruments, that screamed and sang with a raspy, nasal twang that Brian might have given him hell for had he not been so painfully aware of how limited his own singing abilities were. He could feel his eyes on him, something simmering under the surface that trembled, maybe resentment? Maybe pleasure? Maybe approval? But he was a far harder man to read than his guitarist and the only time Brian could figure him out was when he looked at Val sitting on the sofa, beer in hand and her hair pulled back from her face as she nodded along. They were definitely together, he decided, and god, he couldn't blame either of them. There seemed to be a genuine affection there, and Brian's stomach clenched a little before he pulled his eyes away.
When he finally fell into the solo he had written for one of the pieces he caught those eyes again and nearly tripped over his notes, could feel his anxiety pouring off of him before he improvised his way back into the rhythm and finished it out before they returned to the chorus and the last notes crashed down. The silence was heavy after that, and Brian's fingers itched for the cigarettes in his back pocket.
“That… felt pretty good,” Brian spoke into that stillness, turning as Jimmy's sticks clattered down to rest on a drum head.
“That was brilliant,” Jimmy announced, stretching long arms above his head and shaking out his hands and shoulders before he ran his fingers back through his explosive shock of hair.
Zacky glanced between them, then over at Matt. “That solo was fire,” he shrugged, “and he can obviously play. He's got the ear for it. I'd think about it.”
Matt was impressed and awed by Brian’s ability and he felt a small amount of his discomfort fade. He played well; caressed his guitar intimately and got the best sounds out of it. Matt couldn’t ignore his raw talent and had to admit despite a few blunders - he’d flubbed a note or two himself - jamming had felt natural.
He let the silence stretch a little and he slid his microphone into his back pocket. “It was incredible,” he finally allowed as he nodded his head. “That D sharp change,” he queried, Brian’s eyes passive and deep. “I don’t think I’ve even seen that before.”
“I told you,” Jimmy said smugly. “Did I not fucking tell all of you how good he is?”
Matt rolled his eyes and shared a look with Val. “You tell us a lot of shit, Jim,” he needled. “This time, you were actually right.” His attention turned back to Brian, confident in his own and Matt’s own heart thumped in his chest.
Brian snorted a laugh; hearing Matt needling at Jimmy was weirdly familiar, something he himself would have said in Matt's shoes. “I really like the D sharp,” he admitted, “especially over that groove you've got on the bridge of that? And the way you came in, Matt?” He shook his head, “you got some lungs on you, goddamn.” He turned back to Jimmy. “You came in late on that chorus though,” he complained, “that fucking fill is nice but not if you cant come in on time.”
Ducking the stick thrown at his head, Brian laughed, the tension of the room seeming to break, and he fished out his cigarettes, reaching for the beer he had abandoned on his amp. Zacky took one of the cigarettes with a nod of appreciation and Brian shoved the pack back in his pocket, leaning ng over as the other guitarist held up a light for him. Breathing out a stream of smoke towards the open garage door he picked up his beer again and looked at Matt, feeling a swell of delight in his chest.
“I suppose if you'll have me,” he allowed, “I'd give it a shot.”
Matt’s lips parted as Brian spoke and was impressed he called Jimmy out so easily. As easygoing as the drummer was, he wasn’t always open to feedback. Matt had copped many a drumstick to the back of his head so now he learned to pick his battles. “You were late on the fill,” he added, just because he felt he could and received a withering stare in response.
Matt’s attention turned back to Brian, watching him take a puff off his cigarette and then arch his head back to exhale the smoke. Matt wasn’t sure why he was watching, he didn’t give a shit when Zack of Jimmy indulged and he had to make himself look away from Brian. Though his cheeks did colour when Brian spoke.
“Have you,” Matt mused and swallowed hard. “I mean, we could take a vote, I guess,” he grinned.
“What, without your bassist here?” Brian laughed, but Jimmy already had a hand up, and Zaxky, while looking a little reluctant, also put a hand up.
“I mean I think we should try this a few more times,” he qualified, “make sure everything gets, you know?” He glanced at Matt and Brian saw a look pass from him. They'd probably want to discuss it without him there and that seemed fair enough.
“Hey I don't need an answer today,” Brian shrugged, “If you wanna think about it that's cool too.” He tapped out a few notes absently on his guitar. He needed new strings, and god he hated putting on new strings. Blowing out another breath of smoke his eyes rested again on Matt, lingering on those full lips and the glint of silver that looped through. It was still distracting, and Brian pulled his eyes away to find Jimmy smirking at him, knowing and bright.
Matt knew they probably shouldn’t make a decision on a whim, and they should consult their bassist. But maybe they were all taken - it certainly felt that way, a vibe between the four of them that felt kind of special and maybe Matt had been against the idea for so long because he felt comfortable with their current line up. Getting to know someone else, even if Brian was already on the fringes was a lot, and he appreciated him pointing it out.
“We sleep on it,” Matt decided and sat down on Zack’s amp. “We keep jamming and if it feels right, if you can bring something new, then we’ll consider it.”
It seemed smart; a good business decision or the closest thing to it, and he wondered what the future of the band looked like moving forward. Especially with Brian looking at him like that, all brooding and mysterious like he knew something Matt didn’t, and Matt didn’t particularly like that feeling. But Jimmy was keen and he could tell Zack was too, and as much as he liked to think he had the final say, it wasn’t exactly like that. Brian had proven, in part, that he had the ear and the talent, so maybe it wouldn’t be a decision that would backfire.
“Or we keep jamming and Brian gets that killer solo down and we could add it to the album,” Jimmy said hopefully, twisting his remaining stick between his long fingers.
Matt’s eyes rolled. “Next you’ll want my neighbour’s dog to bark its head off to add that too,” he said sarcastically but looked at Brian. “No offense.”
Brian shot him a wounded look, “I mean if the dog can sing, maybe you can use some backup,” he suggested. This time he didn't quite manage to dodge Jimmy's other stick and it nailed him in the shoulder.
“What am I, chopped liver?” Jimmy demanded, “Are you saying I cant fucking sing? Because that's awfully rich from someone who can't even-” he broke off in a yelp as Brian threw the stick back at him, laughing.
Zacky eyed Brian, smiling wryly, “so you can play, but I see there will be no challenges to Matt on the vocals.”
“God no,” Brian replied fervently, “I can carry a tune but fuck no. Absolutely fucking not. I don't even sing for Pinkly Smooth.”
“He doesn't,” Jimmy echoed, “and it's not because I don't let him.”
“Not only because he doesn't let me,” Brian rolled his eyes in his direction before he smiled wryly over at Matt. “I'll play or write anything you ask me, but don't make me sing.”
Matt relaxed a little more, glad to see Brian could take a joke, and serve one with quick wit. He watched them bicker and observed how it felt kind of nostalgic in a way. Like he’d always listened to Jimmy bicker with anyone and everyone, Zack getting in on the action too. Val was quick with her words and they all threw barbs at times. At least Brian fit on a friend level, which Matt told himself in the back of his mind in case it all came to fruition and their line up became five.
“Alright, no singing,” he agreed and shrugged a shoulder. “There is back up, though. I don’t want to scream forever, and it’d be an idea to see what you can do. Our voices might be perfect for hamonising.”
“They will be,” Jimmy rushed ahead and almost fell off his stool as he reached for the Doritos. “Brian has an awesome falsetto which will compliment your head voice,” he said as he chewed.
Matt looked Brian over again, impressed once more. The guy was obviously musical and while Matt was busily doing his best to learn as much, his ear wasn’t something he had to hone. He’d be able to tell quickly if Brian’s voice was going to meld with his own, and if he was thinking big picture, Zack couldn’t carry all the backing vocals on his own.
Brian eyed Matt, appraising him fresh at that revelation. The idea that the man didn't want to scream forever wasn't something Jimmy had mentioned, and he had to admit that changed his perspective just a little. Someone who screamed like that wouldn't likely keep their voice, but the idea that he was already thinking that far ahead, that he had an actual plan in mind… well. Brian could appreciate that. He gave him a silent, respectful nod.
“I have a passable falsetto,” he admitted, “I wouldn't call it awesome, and I can hold a harmony line well enough. Singing and playing,” he grimaced, “I can manage it, but it takes practice. I haven't done a lot of that,” he shrugged, figuring it would work best to be up front about where his strengths and his weaknesses were.
“I'd like to hear you two guys sing sometime,” Val announced from where she had curled up comfortably on the ratty sofa, her feet tucked beneath her and the doritos in her lap. “Zack, you're great on harmony but it would be good to have more options. More layers.”
“A regular barbershop quartet up here,” Jimmy smirked.
“Hey I like the Beatles,” Brian mock-scowled, then drained his beer. “Well, shit guys, it's been fun. You wanna go over it all again, or shall I make Jimmy drive me home so you all can confer?”
Matt stood, finding Brian’s eyes on him a little mystifying. He didn’t fancy trying to sing then and there, not on the spot when he was still trying to work out what was going on in his head. He sat down next to Val and let his fingertips stroke her knee and felt a little less uncertain with her by his side. She knew his plan, he wasn’t exactly secret about it, and although screaming worked for now - and he was most comfortable doing it - it wasn’t a lifelong goal. LIkely he’d blow out before he was twenty-three, and then what was the point? Get them to high success then disappear because his voice was shot?
He had goals, and that didn’t include becoming a one-hit wonder or some obscure band from the nineties. He wanted to be with the same people, evolving their music in a decade from now, two decades even. He could feel it in his bones that he was where he was supposed to be, and he was going to do everything right to sustain it.
“I could give you a few pointers,” Matt offered delicately to Brian. “I’ve been seeing a vocal coach when I can pay him and I’ve learned a thing or two.” His teeth worried at his lip ring again. “If you have free time or whatever.”
Val patted his knee, and Matt relaxed a little more.
Brian hesitated at the offer, but it seemed sincere, and that goddamned lip ring. He watched as Matt watched him back, and it felt… like a moment. Like something he shouldn't refuse. He remembered the tension when he had come in, the way Matt's eyes weighed him and seemed to find him surplus to requirement. This felt like an olive branch of some kind, and he didn't want to slap it aside.
“Yeah,” he agreed slowly, allowing a smile to warm his features. “I could use some pointers, when I've got the time. And when you do, too. I'm sure you're busy,” he tried out. “But I'd like that. You've definitely got skills.”
Matt cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, Brian’s gaze tearing right through him. He coughed a little, uncomfortable with the compliment but unwholly able to shy away from it. “Yeah, that’d be, that’d be great,” he stumbled out and cringed inwardly.
“Would you two like to be alone?” Jimmy asked dryly from where he sat, retrieved drumsticks whispering over the cymbal.
“Fuck you,” Matt threw at him but it seemed to dissolve the tension, and Matt was content when Zack got up and bowed out of rehearsal so he could study for his math test.