Zero Chance by Mocha VonBee

Author:Mocha VonBee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Indie Ink
Published: 2023-04-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

When I awake the next morning, Kit is already up and dressed.

“Hey, hope you slept okay?”

“Yes, fine. Listen Mac,” her voice drops, “I’m sorry about last night.”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. The main thing is you’re alright.”

“Thanks for being so understanding.”

“Hey, I’m not a monster, you know, just trying to look out for you.” I pick up a guitar and start to strum. She’s still a bit tense and I play something I think she’ll like, something to relax her. My fingers start on Nirvana’s ‘Something in the Way.’ It’s one I play a lot to practise, because it’s easy, it only has two chords and girls always like it and then I fiddle with the strings and move into ‘The Man who Sold the World.’

Kit brightens at that one. “I love David Bowie.”

“This is Kurt Cobain’s version,” I tell her. I detuned the guitar, so the notes are flat. I’d expect anyone who’s been hanging out with Tully Cabe to pick up on something as basic as that.

She shrugs indifferently. “They’re Bowie’s lyrics though. Did you know that’s Felice’s favourite song?”

I didn’t and I file it away at the back of my head. Insights into girls’ tastes in music are always useful.

“So you two are Bowie fans together?” I ask.

“Yeah, you’re really good on the guitar. Can you play anything?”

That’s always been my strong point, picking stuff up by ear, only needing to hear it once or twice. It’s what made me stand out, what got me started as a guitarist but it’s useless now because it doesn’t help me create. My mind is too full of all the tunes I know already.

“Sure, what do you want to hear? How about this? I launch into the Doors song, ‘Light my Fire.’

“We saw Jim Morrison’s grave when we were in Paris,” Kit says softly.

“You and Tully?”

“Yes, it was when we got engaged.” Her gaze is far away, like her mind is elsewhere. And I detune my guitar further before starting into Nick Drake’s ‘Fruit Tree’.

“Tully says you need strong finger nails to play like Nick Drake.” It surprises me when she recognises the song, though perhaps it shouldn’t. I was the one who introduced Nick Drake to Tully. “Don’t you love his lyrics?”

It’s more his unique style of guitar that interests me but I don’t say that to Kit. This is the opening I’ve been looking for.

“Imagine dying at twenty-six convinced you were a failure? That’s what I love about ‘Fruit Tree.’ It’s so prophetic and haunting.”

To me lyrics are just an accompaniment to the tune, secondary to the melody, but to Kit they are the force that drives the song.

“All the musicians you’ve been playing are dead,” she goes on, “it makes you wonder if that’s the price of fame.”

Her words send a chill down my spine. She’s right of course but the choice wasn’t intentional. “Is this how you and Tully write lyrics?”

She recoils. “Is that what all this was about?”

“No, of course not.” I could bite off my tongue.

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