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“Welcome, one and all, to the annual Tri-State Tunes competition!”
While Milo, Zack, Melissa and Mort watch the announcer, Amanda is running through a checklist like an army commander about to send her soldiers off to a battle. “Ok guys, as soon as this speech ends in… 5.3 minutes, we need to rush back to the practise area and get changed, then you need to tune your instruments, while I go collect our badges. Then it’s practise time, got it?”
“Yes, Amanda, we know.” Milo says fondly. “You’ve told us the schedule-“
“26.5 times.” Amanda says.
“Ah.”
“Why point 5?” Mort asks.
“Melissa interrupted me when we were in the hotel.” Amanda scowls deeply at her.
“The hotel was burning down!” Melissa retorts.
“Milo fixed it, it was fine.” Amanda says.
Milo giggles. “Guuuuuuuys.” He says, holding up his hands to stop them. They can’t help but laugh in turn.
Zack smiles fondly. Suddenly he feels all warm and happy, a soppy sponge as he watches his friends, his band, laugh with each other. They care about each other, they really love each other. It feels nice.
As soon as the speaker finishes, Amanda ushers them away. “Quickly, quickly! We’re two minutes behind so we need to hurry.”
They rush to their practise area and quickly change. While everyone else tunes their instruments, Amanda rushes to the registration tent. Zack tunes his guitar, smiling as he looks out at the sea of bands practicing. He feels nervous, sure, but in a good way.
And then he sees something, and his stomach drops.
“Zack?” Mort says. “Something wrong?”
“More like someone.” Zack says, staring at a familiar face in the crowd.
“Oh, that’s your old band!” Milo realises. “They must be competing too.”
Zack stares, his stomach squirming. “… yeah. Yeah.” He says.
“Whoa, you ok?” Melissa asks.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He rubs his head. “I just…”
“Guys, I need you practising!” Amanda seems to appear from thin air, making him jump out of his skin. “Milo, come help me with the safety measures. The rest of you, get practising! We don’t have time for dilly-dallying.”
So Zack starts practising. And though everything is the same, it feels different now. A chill has crept into his bones, freezing out that warmth that he felt. The nervousness doesn’t feel good anymore.
Why do you care what Max thinks anymore?
No matter how much he tells himself that, the feeling doesn’t go away. His stomach squirms as he practises, as time ticks on by.
“Zack, can you go get snacks?” Amanda suggests. He nods absently, putting down his guitar and picking his way through the crowded rehearsal space. He can feel the buzz around him as he goes, and he begins to feel better. He loves performing, loves doing stuff like this. He loves the whole atmosphere.
“Zack Underwood, as I live and breath!”
He tenses, the atmosphere freezing into a hard block of ice and shattering. “Max.” He says stiffly. “Where are the Maxes?”
“Practising.” Max says, smiling. He puts an arm around Zack, patting his back roughly. “It’s good to see you, buddy!”
“Good to see you too.” Zack says stiffly. “How have you been?”
“Oh, we’re doing fantastic. Touring all over the place, our new song ‘An Axe to the Soul’ is getting super popular. Life is sweet.” Max grins, satisfied. “What about you?”
“I’m doing good too. School’s good, and we’ve been doing a lot of cool performances.” Zack smiles fondly. “Plus, I went to space.”
“Space? Wha- never mind. It’s a shame.” Max looks sympathetic. Still, Zack’s skin crawls. “No big break yet, huh? You’ll get there someday, just gonna keep trying.”
“It’s not a shame. I’m happy with how the band’s going!”
“I know it’s sucks when you don’t get popular.” Max shakes his head, an understanding sigh falling from his smiling mouth. “But hey, it’s not all bad. Unpopular, lesser-known bands have their own niche appeal, right?”
“Dude, I don’t care about how popular we get.” Zack insists, feeling his stomach boiling. This is why he hates talking to Max! He hates everything he says being trampled over, squashed and twisted into what Max wants him to say, or tonight he should have said. He hates always feeling on the back foot, scrambling to catch up. “Just Getting Started is just about having fun and playing music together, as friends. Like… like the Lumberzacks was supposed to be.”
“We are friends, and we have fun.” Max says. “But we also actually succeed, unlike your ‘band’. Friendship won’t make you succeed, Zack.”
“I just said, I don’t care about success.” Zack insists.
“Sure you don’t. I know that you want Just Getting Started to succeed, Zack. Of course you do! You care about it. You started it, you built it up, it’s important to you. Being ambitious isn’t a crime.” Max takes his hand and squeezes it.
“Yes, I want it to succeed.” Zack concedes. Once again, Max pushed him backwards, unbalanced him. Talking to Max is a tightrope act, a circus trick that he spent their whole friendship performing. “And obviously there’s nothing wrong with that, but there would be something wrong with pressuring and mistreating my friends over it.”
“Oh, are you still on about that? Build a bridge, my guy.” Max laughs. “We were chill, right? It was all good.”
It feels like someone has tied a string to Zack’s spine and is yanking, pulling him up and tugging uncomfortably on his muscles. “Max, it wasn’t- it wasn’t chill. And you’re doing the same thing right now.”
“Doing what?” Max tilts his head slightly to the side.
Zack feels like he is wobbling on the edge of a cliff. “This. Telling me that I don’t actually feel how I feel, or that stuff didn’t really happen, or that stuff that didn’t happen actually did.”
Max scoffs. “That’s silly.”
“You’re doing it now!”
“Zack, I’ve never done that.” Max shakes his head, eyes glinting. “Just because you’re stupid-“
“I’m not stupid!”
“Zack, c’mon. You know I love you. But you’re a sports guy, and a music guy, not the idea guy. And you always have someone else around to do the thinking.” Max winks. “Me. And now there’s that cute redhead. Have you actually had the guts to ask her out, by the way, or did you make her do that?”
Zack’s cheeks burn, as he wobbles and flails on the verge of falling right off the cliff. “I’m not stupid.” He insists. “And I was the idea guy for the Lumberzacks! It was my band, I wrote the songs, I was the only one who believed that we could succeed. You said over and over that we were gonna fail! You said it was stupid.”
“I never said that.” Max challenges.
“Yes, you did!” Zack flails. “I remember!”
“I mean, it’s obvious. The Lumberzacks succeeded, right? And then you left. And the Lumbermaxes are succeeding, and Just Getting Started is failing. What’s the common denominator here?” Max quirks an eyebrow, stepping closer. He is shorter than Zack, but when he smirks up at him, it feels like he is towering over.
Zack feels his back foot slipping off the cliff, struggling for purchase. “We’re not failing.” He insists.
“You are.” Max says. “And you know it.”
As Zack tumbles backwards off the cliff, he feels a hand grabbing him, pulling him back. “Zack? Everything ok?”
Zack turns, to see Milo blinking at him. Behind Milo are Melissa, Mort and Amanda, the latter nervously tapping on the clipboard that holds her schedule.
“We’re just catching up.” Max says, holding out a hand. “I don’t think I introduced myself last time. I’m Max, Zack’s old bandmate.”
“Milo Murphy!” Milo says brightly, shaking his hand. There is definitely a tension in Milo’s voice, though it is so well hidden that Zack doubts that anyone other him and Melissa can see it.
Melissa shakes Max’s hand next, squeezing tightly. “Melissa.” She says shortly. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Oh no, should I be worried?” Max laughs.
Amanda and Mort also introduce themselves. “And you’re Just Getting Started?” Max says. “Well, good luck out there! Stiff competition.”
“It sure is.” Milo says, smiling brightly. “But it’ll be fun! Good luck to you too.”
Max’s eyes glint as he crosses his arms. “Thanks! But don’t be too hard on yourselves. Second place isn’t bad for such an underground band.”
“Max.” Zack says, not expecting it to do anything.
“I’m sorry, who won the Battle of the Bands?” Melissa asks, leaning closer to Max with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, that’s right. Us.”
“Beginner’s luck.” Max says cheerfully. Zack is impressed- very few people can stand their ground when Melissa looks like that.
“Beginner’s luck wouldn’t account for the successful performances they have had since then.” Amanda says, all businesslike, glaring at Max. Zack supposes that she is angry that he messed up her schedule by distracting Zack.
“Who are you, again? Is your instrument the clipboard?” Max asks.
“Amanda Lopez. Their manager.” She says primly. Zack knows her well enough by now to know that her acting prim is a warning sign of an impending eruption.
“Riiight. Well, Amanda, how much money are they making? How many tours have they gone on?”
“Just because they don’t sell singing saws- which are atrocious quality, by the way- doesn’t mean that they aren’t successful. They make good music, they’re a good band.”
“I suppose the music has some niche appeal.” Max says. It’s technically a compliment, but it feels like all of his compliments- a little off, a little wrong. “Could probably do with some better songwriting, but hey, I’m not your manager.” He winks. Zack’s face burns.
“I think the songwriting is the best part, personally!” Milo says brightly. “Y’know, Zack does all of it. And he’s brilliant, he’s so clever and creative.”
“You don’t know much about music, do you?” Max asks.
“I know that Zack’s music sounds good. And I know he’s more creative than changing the word ‘chop’ to ‘saw’ and releasing it as an original song.” Milo says, a cheerful smile on his face the whole time. “Anyway, we need to get practising. Good luck, Max!”
Zack feels a warm, scarred, calloused hand pulling him back to the practise area. His friends literally surround him. He’s pretty sure Melissa flips off Max as they go.
Back at the practise area, Zack sinks into a seat. “I do not like talking to Max.” He admits.
“He’s so annoying! How were you friends with him for years?” Melissa asks.
Zack shrugs. “I thought that was normal.” He rests his head on his hand. “He was my best friend, and the way he acted was always frustrating. But he was still my best friend, so I guess I just put up with it.”
“We overheard… a bit of your conversation.” Mort admits. Zack groans.
“I know I tease you a lot, but you’re not stupid.” Melissa says firmly. “And if you want me to fight Max, just let me know.”
“Please don’t fight Max.” Zack says wearily.
“You sure?” Melissa asks.
“He said no, Mel.” Milo says fondly.
“And y’know, this band wouldn’t even exist without you.” Mort adds. “You’re like… the sun, and we’re the planets. If it weren’t for you we’d just be rocks floating through space, but you got us together and made us a great band.”
Amanda and Melissa both frown. “That’s not how the solar sys… ok.”
Zack can’t help but smile. “Thanks, guys. I really need to stop letting Max get to me.” He glances over at the Lumbermaxes’ practise area. At Max leading, at the others acting in unison. Then he looks at his own band, a wonderful mess of clashing personalities that still work together perfectly, a group of friends that he is so grateful for. “And this band wouldn’t exist with you guys either, you know.”
Milo pats his shoulder. Zack takes a deep breath, then stands up. “Right, let’s get back on schedule.”
“Oh thank goodness.” Amanda murmurs. Zack laughs.
———
As Zack walks up to the stage, he passes Max. “Good luck.” He whispers. “You’ll need it.”
Zack tenses. Then he relaxes, smiling. “Thanks!”
He steps out onto the stage. “Hi! I’m Zack, this is Milo, Melissa and Mort. And we are Just Getting Started!”
They play. And it’s great. It’s fun, it’s exhilarating, he loves it. He loves being surrounded by his friends, playing music for a crowd, not caring about how successful they are. Only caring about the music, the performing.
A few hours later, he is holding a golden trophy, still surrounded by his friends. There is laughing and cheering and celebrating, and a huge smile spreads across his face.
Glancing across the stage, he sees Max and the Maxes, holding a silver trophy. Max looks over, and for a moment Zack is tempted to make a petty remark. Second place isn’t bad for such an uncreative band.
But he takes a deep breath, and wipes the urge away. He turns back to his friends, smiling as he hugs them.