2025-02-17 - Who knew Taylor Swift was so Powerful?

The rehearsal space, usually open to drop-ins, occasionally gets booked by someone willing to pay a little extra to reserve the facility. Now, “facility” might be a generous term in this case, but tonight’s booking is very real.

Alone, though he asked Ruby to meet him here when she could, Brandon O’Donnell is set up with three guitars: a Gibson acoustic and his trusty Fender Stratocaster, both on stands currently, and the one strapped over his shoulder and slung low at his waist—a majestic, sunburst-patterned 12-string Rickenbacker. It’s this that he’s playing, alone and focused, its rich harmonic sound of extra strings chiming out a beautiful series of notes that lends an alternative shimmer to his latest composition.

It’s meant to be a bouncy, modern pop number. With this guitar it becomes a psychedelic swirl of a thing. His voice is fuzzed up with a phone booth effect as he sings:

You turn the magic on -- in a dress like gold
Cast a spell that hits me -- right in my soul
You’re a dream
Baby you’re a dream come true

It isn't until she's right on the other side of the door that she hears him playing, and even then, she has to hold her breath. The acoustics in the practice room isolate the sound of his voice and the strum of his guitar well. She opens the door slowly, peaking her blonde head in first, not wanting to startle him. The song is one she hadn't heard before, but a knowing smile makes its home on her face when the lyrics start to register. She knew someone with a gold dress.

"Sounds great," she says once he finishes the verse.

He was expecting her—he invited her after all—but never knew exactly when she could arrive.

Maybe he could have cheated with the telepathy, it was hard to know its limits—but he wasn’t a cheater.

He might’ve left the door open for some advance warning—but that would’ve exposed a new song to the world before he’d even figured it out for himself.

So it is that Brandon’s happily startled by Ruby’s sudden appearance, looking back over his shoulder with a quicksilver smile.

“Hey! Ruby, glad you like it—c’mon in!”

That smile does it to her every time. "About anyone special?" She asks, a sly look on her lips. "At this rate, you're going to have an entire album. Just don't call it Red. That's been done," she teases lightheartedly as she drops her black leather bag on the couch and crosses the room to greet him. She came from work. She's barefaced, and her wet hair has been tied into a bun to protect her from the winter chill. She was still wrapped up in her cream-colored teddy jacket, and her nose and cheeks were still pink from the cold.

Brandon lifts the guitar off over his shoulders, setting it respectfully on a stand before turning to meet Ruby with open arms that swiftly enfold the blonde in a warm embrace. “But red is for rubies,” he protests with a voice too mild to mean it—a supposition validated by the playful glint in his eyes.

“I have… maybe three new songs. I don’t even know how many will make the final cut,” he admits, leaning in for a kiss. “They’re all pretty different. Even if they’ve got a unifying theme.”

It takes some effort for the blonde to stay composed. But the fact is, she's still a massive fan of his music, and confirmation that there were three songs already and that an album was on the way had her fingers itching for the Silvertones Discord server. Sure, they'd talked about it casually, and he'd had that jam session, but it was starting to feel more like a tangible reality. She kissed him back happily.

"A unifying theme could be good?" She has no idea. "Does Derek know that you're a third of the way to an album?"

“You want to ask him? He’s supposed to call me any minute,” Brandon answers with a chuckle—if only after concluding a very rewarding kiss. A trifle reluctantly, he steps away to where his laptop is connected to a hub of various cables.

“It’s about new starts. New feelings. Rebirth.” Brandon beams. He’s excited to talk about it. “Mostly it’s about… well, us. You. How you make me feel—“

He’s about to say more when his iPhone lights up over on a side table. The ringtone it plays is Darth Vader’s iconic theme from Star Wars.

“That’s Derek’s ringtone,” Brandon explains with a smirk.

"Your news to tell." But she hadn't met Derek yet and sometimes felt like Derek was the third person in their relationship. "I'll say hi." She resists letting him peel away for just a moment. She hadn't seen him all day and was starting to sleep alone some nights to work on the next ten pages of her thesis, which were due at the end of the month. All to say, she missed him.

Her cheeks flush. "Alan called me your muse," she tells him. "I'm starting to think that he's right," she's kidding, mostly.

Ruby gives him a look when that song comes on pinned to Derek's face. "He can't be that bad."

Snatching up the phone, Brandon slides to accept the call and moves back across the room toward Ruby as he answers it, faded jeans and a plain, red longsleeve tee his outfit for the day. With his mess of sandy hair, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, his bracelets and beads, he somehow makes the plainest outfit ever all look very 'indie', very cool.

"BRANDON!" blares a loud, unselfconscious, not-unfriendly voice from the speakerphone, no real accent evident in that annoying, Ivy League way of sounding from nowhere and everywhere all at once. "My man!"

"Derek," the singer tells the phone as he slides up to Ruby again, giving her a little eyeroll and a wry grin.

"How's the new tunes? You keeping that muse of yours happy, I hope?"

Brandon's azure eyes cut to Ruby above that grin, which just gets more amused.

Derek's chirpy tone is a stark contrast to his ringtone. Ruby glances down at the phone, then up at Brandon, noting that wry grin. Her eyes then dart back to the speaker when Derek refers to her as that.

"Hi, Derek," she decides to say. No use hiding from him that she was standing RIGHT THERE. Obviously, Derek knew all about Ruby. He'd been playing whack-a-mole with tabloids since their first date. But it still felt weird that he knew her... or knew of her.

"WAIT! Is that RUBY SAINT JAMES?! THE RUBY?" The voice on the other end gets even louder, if possible. "Brandon, can you switch to FaceTime?"

"Depends," Brandon answers dryly, again favoring Ruby with a knowing grin. "Are you decent?"

"I'm in my OFFICE."

"Then we both know you're not decent."

"Oh, TOUCHE'! You WOUND me, my friend," Derek insists.

"What is it, Derek?"

"RUBY. RUBY. Look. How would you like to make some extra cash? I have like SIX different brands who are DYING to work with you."

Brandon presses the mute button, arching an eyebrow. "He really has been dying to ask you about this," he admits to his girlfriend. "I've told him he has to ask you directly, so I guess he's doing that now."

The reaction causes Ruby to step back, her eyes shifting to Brandon. "That'd be me," she says, her voice wavering slightly at the newfound interest in talking to her.

She winces when he requests to switch to FaceTime. Ruby wasn't wearing a lick of makeup. She'd spent the past six hours in and out of the tanks. Yes, she'd showered, but she still wasn't feeling presentable. But the phone switches to camera mode, and she's standing there smiling and waving like a damn near fool. "Excuse me, what?" Confusion. She looks over at Brandon as he hits the mute button. "Why would anyone want to work with me?" She hadn't done a brand deal since back in 2016 when every YouTube channel had an audible sponsorship.

She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, her arms wrapping around her torso. "You knew about this?" She asks Brandon. "I don't know... is this something I should do?"

"All I knew is he had some offers he wanted to run past you," Brandon admits to Ruby, "and I didn't think it was right or fair for me to say yes or no. Not my place." He gives her a fond look-- no makeup, messy bun and all. "I'm your boyfriend, not your manager. You and me, we're in this together."

"And for what it's worth, Derek does a great job looking out for me. I can't imagine anything he has for you wouldn't be a good fit for who you are. All he knows about you is me gushing all the time," he adds, turning a bit sheepish. "Tell you what. Let's have him send you the details so you can kick the tires and think about it? He'll respect that, I know it."

Her initial bristling at the idea fades, as Brandon explains. She nods. "Yeah, no, you did the right thing," she glances back at the phone, waiting, staring at them. "I just wasn't expecting that," she admits. "But it's flattering that anyone would want to work with me. Six?" She looks up at Brandon. That was a lot, right? Ruby had unconsciously tucked herself into Brandon's side. This was uncharted territory, and he was a source of comfort.

"Would that make Derek my agent too?" Did she need an agent? Seemed ridiculous for a veterinarian to have an agent but if he was finding her work it seemed fair.

"If you choose that," Brandon explains. "It sounds way more complicated than it is. Look. Let's just tell him you want to sleep on it?" She is tucked into his side, so his arm finds its typical, comfortable resting place around her waist, pulling her in and snuggling her close even as his right hand hovers over the mute button, ready to restore voice as soon as she tells him she's good with that. "Even if I have no intention of letting you sleep much tonight?"

That line is followed with a gentle, teasing hip-check and a sly grin.

"Alright, yeah. There's no reason to make any decisions tonight," she says, her voice a little steadier now that they have a path forward. She looks up at him, mostly catching his profile from this angle. "You get one blow job and suddenly you're insatiable," she teases and hip-checks him back. She nods for him to unmute Derek.

"It sounds interesting. I'll consider it, but want to take some time to think it over. Did they say why they're interested? Are they aware I'm a vet and spend most of the day running lab tests on fish fungus?" It was not glamorous. She was not glamorous.

Unmuted at last, Derek picks up like he'd never been sent to mute-button purgatory.

"They did their research, Ruby," the agent explains over the speaker. "They know WHO you are. But they also know WHO YOU HANG WITH and they LOVE YOUR STYLE. I mean, right now you're THE GIRL NEXT DOOR who's DATING A ROCK STAR. EVERYONE wants to associate with THAT GIRL."

Brandon gives Ruby a look and says, "Honestly, D, I'm glad you're thinking of her. I know she'll give it some thought, okay?"

"Sure thing, Brando! Catch you later my friend!"

And just like that, the phone clicks off. Brandon gives Ruby a long-suffering smile. "Welcome to Derek's World," he says with a laugh. "He's a good dude, honest. I don't doubt he's got some stuff lined up that you might find interesting."

It's a talent that he's able to do that. Just like that, Derek just knew when Brandon took him off mute and kept talking. Her follower count on Instagram and TikTok had gone up, but them loving her style gets an audible laugh. The rest has some weight, however.

"Maybe," she says, entertaining it at least. Rubes takes advantage of the situation to slide her arms up her boyfriend's chest and kiss him again. He was just right there. She couldn't help it. "But isn't this all kind of your thing? Maybe I should just stay in my lane?" She says, but then more thoughts follow. "It would help pay off my student loans," she muses.

"It would," Brandon agrees, "but I'll tell you this: I didn't fall in love with a girl who stays in her lane." That cheshire grin comes on again, as he darts in for another kiss-- which he takes-- and then says, "C'mon, let's go sit down? I wrote you a new song last week, but tonight I’ve been trying to work it out on the 12-string."

He doesn't say it was Ansel's guitar, the author of the sound of so much of what made The Last Promenade special. With her, he assumes he doesn't need to.

"Oh the 12 string?" Ruby smiled knowingly. She couldn't recall if Brandon had ever publically picked up that particular instrument. Brandon was the front man, sure, but Ansal always played the difficult melodies. Ruby let him lead her to the couch and sat down.

"I didn't even know you could play the 12-string," she says, eyes shifting over to the vaguely familiar-looking instrument.

Sitting down next to if a little apart from Ruby-- taking care not to accidentally swing the neck of the guitar into her-- Brandon smiles slyly over the instrument resting on his lap. "I can," he explains, "just... not like he could. It's got extra tension, so you have to press a little harder. Think of it like... oh, I don't know. Maybe swimming in denser water, if that makes sense?"

Smirking at his own clumsy attempt to explain, he checks the jack to make sure the cable's in and snug before strumming a simple G chord. No pedals, no distortion, no effects of any kind. The ringing harmonics fill the room with a richer, fuller sound than he could've made with his Strat.

"Truth is, I'm no pro with this thing," he admits with a smile for Ruby. "I'm doing a lot of trial and error with these songs. They'll never be The Silvertones, but... I'll always have the 'tones in me. I don't know what Brandon O'Donnell's musical DNA is without Jake, Steve... and Ansel."

"It does," she assures him, swinging her legs under her bum so she's sitting mermaid style on the couch. She settles in, getting comfortable for her private show.

The simple strum of the G chord on the 12-string is beautiful and full. She's quiet as he speaks, processing what this new sound might be without Ansel in the fold. She offers him a reassuring smile, and reaches out to gently squeeze his leg. "It will be different," there was no denying that. "But he was your best friend. He'd want you to keep going." She had to believe that. Music is such a big part of what makes Brandon Brandon. "One step at a time," she encourages gently and settles back into the couch again.

"Yeah," Brandon agrees, nodding along with Ruby's encouragement-- verbal and the gentle, physical kind alike. "You've said that before. A few times, actually."

He strums another clear, chiming chord. It's a beautiful sound, a classic sound that informs some of the best Silvertones tracks.

"So the new one... I didn't write it on this. When you walked in, I was trying to make it fit," he laughs, "but I don't think that's a take I'm gonna stick with. I should probably play you something else, if I'm playing this thing."

Pausing, he fixes the blonde with a look of curiosity.

"Any requests?"

"I'll keep saying it until you believe it," Ruby tells him, because while she doesn't have a whole lot of experience with grieving, she knows what it's like to be a friend. She also knows what it's like to love Brandon, and she couldn't imagine anyone who has had that privilege wanting anything but for him to be happy. He deserved that.

"Hmmm... well I want to hear the new song," she tells him. But for the twelve-string? "Kind of miss State of Grace." It was their first song, and one that she hadn't heard in a while.

That one surprises him-- delightedly so, to judge by the broad, pop-idol grin that appears on his boyish face. "Really? That's something I can actually play solo," Brandon answers, enthusiastically. He swivels around to face Ruby a little more directly, although he has to hunch over the body of the guitar a bit.

It takes Brandon no more than a single, speculative run-through of the D and G chords before he starts in more seriously, coaxing forth the familiar, iconic intro of those two at a slightly more relaxed pace before launching into the vocal. His eyes seek Ruby's as he sings, a little slower than the original to match the lack of a rhythm section:

I'm walking fast through the traffic lights
Busy streets and busy lives, and
All we know
is touch and go

She nods. "Really, Pop-star," she teases lightly as she picks up one of the pillows and hugs it into her chest. It wasn't one of the songs Brandon wrote for her, but it'd always be their first one. She listens with hearts in her eyes as he strums, filling the otherwise unimpressive room with life. His voice is one that's sung her to sleep so many times, but it's different when he's there, sitting across from her, playing for an audience of one.

Ruby is quiet, but she might even be singing along. She can't help it but definitely doesn't want him to hear her.

Ruby's quiet, wide-eyed participation as an audience of one-- it feeds back to Brandon a sort of energy that drives his playing, yes, but even moreso, his singing. As the song continues, he has to watch what his fingers are doing-- he isn't the lead guitarist and this isn't his song, even if he's far more than passable with the instrument-- but when he can glance up, it's always his azure eyes flickering in search of her green ones.

The performer's far from gone, inside him. The chorus, the second verse, they build with a steadily climbing intensity until he hits the bridge. He inhabits the vocal in that moment, taking it someplace intense and personal, biting off the words that matter to him, or to her, or to them--

So you were never a saint
And I've loved in shades of wrong
We learned to live with the pain
Mosaic broken hearts

But this love is brave and wild--

The lyrics have taken on a life of their own within their story. Returning to this melody after only a short time is illuminating. They've grown so much. They've changed. They saw each other in a raw, unfiltered light, and still, the words hadn't changed; the meaning behind them couldn't have been more different.

And I never...

Ruby sings so quietly.

Saw you coming.

And I'll never
be the same...

Brandon stretches out that long-A sound in a way that's not unique, but rather entirely personal to the Irish tenor he is in his soul. When he sings that he'll never be the same, they're Taylor's words but it's unmistakably Brandon's and Ruby's now.

And at the end of that long moment, something strange happens.

The lights of the practice space, typically none too bright to begin with, flicker momentarily. From on-- to off, if only for a moment. On--

Then off again, only for a moment.

Oddly, the power to the amps doesn't change. If anything-- maybe a surge? Because a well-tuned ear or even one that simply knows the song might detect what might be a hint of a harmony underlying Brandon's playing.

But no... maybe that's just the 12-string.

Was it possible to fall in love with someone whom you were already in love with? Ruby felt like it might be because her heart swelled and ached for Brandon in ways and shades that seemed impossible. It might be new. They might be young. But what she felt was indescribable, like the entire universe conspired to bring him into her life. She was so down bad when it came to Brandon O'Donnell.

She might have stared at him forever if the lights hadn't started flickering. Ruby tore her sagey green hues to the ceiling, her brows furrowing. "That's weird." She notes. "Power surge?"

It's enough to make Brandon look up too, shaking his head no to Ruby's query though he strives to keep playing, keep singing, through the look of mild puzzlement suddenly, slightly twisting his face. He chooses to repeat the chorus, the way the song is written, despite a lack of a vocal harmony partner:

And I never--

What's that? A vocal harmony doing the girl-group whoa-oh part? No--

Saw you coming
And I'll never--
be the same

It's definitely a second male voice, an octave higher, chiming in with the harmony part in counterpoint to Brandon's vocal melody. This time, even the singer catches it, and it jars him. "What the--?"

Brandon keeps playing, and Rubes settles back once more. Her attention is split though between the lights and Brandon. It's Spellbound, after all. Weird things like a power surge aren't always just caused by faulty electrical and high wind gusts. It only becomes stranger as their song turns more Taylor Swifty, along with the addition of... "What was that?" She is sitting straight up now. Did he hear that too? "You heard that too?"

Brandon nods, almost urgently, in response to Ruby's question. Some might slow down here, pause the song or even stop-- the skeptics, the questioners, the types who want answers. And Brandon might be all of those things at times, but he's also a musician, and someone-- or something-- is adding a harmony to the vocal, so Brandon wants to finish it.

He plays out the chorus, sings out the chorus, then strums a final note that echoes into silence as he sings the coda:

This is a state of grace, this is the worthwhile fight
Love is a ruthless game, unless you play it
good and right....

He stares into Ruby's eyes the whole time, mostly from love of her but also in part to avoid looking anywhere else. Hope is kindling in his heart now, and he doesn't want to dash it again.

Brandon may be leaning into this experience. But Ruby was a second away from bolting. Had he not been holding her with his impossibly blue gaze, she'd have been out the door. It was a fact that Ruby wasn't really the type of person to fuck around and find out.

There'd been talks of ghosts at Spellbound. Brandon and Ruby had even discussed reaching out to Ansal at one point or another. But this was some kind of spiritual interference she hadn't opted into. Still, he appeared so calm, so sure, so she stayed. She placed her hand on his leg. It was the closest thing to holding his hand or snuggling up against him that she could do while he sang. The harmonies grew louder, more full bodied. It felt like another person was in the room. It felt like that jam session. But it was still only them, and Ruby had stopped singing.

Brandon's voice fades out over the echoes of the guitar, and he lowers the instrument flat-side down into his lap. His left hand covers Ruby's; his eyes look to hers with a sort of naive, open and easily-wounded hope that should be out of place on the face of a young man his age-- but isn't.

Then a voice comes again, warm, friendly, generous. It's soft as a whisper and yet easy to hear, everywhere and nowhere all at once.

"Little pitchy at the end there, Bran. Please don't tell me I scared your voice into cracking all over again."

Warm, friendly, generous... and teasing? Ruby will see Brandon's eyes go wide, his pulse quicken as his hand holding hers tightens involuntarily. He's never squeezed her hand so hard in their time together.

The voice cuts through the newfound silence on the tail of the vibrations left by the 12-string. She laces her fingers with Brandon, willing herself to be brave in this moment, because she sees the hope in his eyes. She knows he's wanted this... if this is what she thinks it is. The voice is familiar, even to Ruby, but she's hesitant, intent on keeping her emotions in check in case Brandon isn't able to mange his own. In case this isn't what they both so desperately want. In case it hurts when this moment inevitably ends. She'll be there. Come what may, she will hold him together if his world falls apart.

"Want to answer him?" She whispers, her voice shakey. But they had to try. They had to hope. It sounded just like him.

Brandon cuts his glance to Ruby, not frightened yet not entirely without fear either. Mostly, though, he's just-- overwhelmed. He's like a little boy on Christmas morning, times ten. All the innocence, the wonder, the joy, the this-can't-be-happening exuberance and then some, his big blue eyes shining, flooded with unshed tears.

"Ansel...?"

And then it happens right before them, and he can't look away.

Fading into luminous presence before them is the vision of a slender young man, whippet-thin where Brandon's athletic, a shock of dark hair falling into his eyes above foxlike, angular features and a fine-boned, almost beautiful face.

Blinking, Brandon stares at the figure, Ruby's hand his only anchor to reality. He clutches that tightly, clinging to her. In all the fan-fiction Brandon was the muscular hottie, and Ansel was the angelic dreamer.

The vision that is so obviously Ansel speaks again in that warm, effortless, generous voice. "Took you long enough."

Ruby's hand tightens around his, as if to say 'Stay on this planet with me, Pop-star.' He could explore those emotions, but she was hellbent on being his rock through this, whatever it was. But even Ruby's eyes widen with wonder as Ansel materializes. Ruby can't help but blush... she'd had crushes on both of them at different points in her youth. He might be a ghost, but she was a little starstruck.

Her thumb runs over the back of his hand. A little reminder that, yes, he's awake.

"I didn't know this was possible without the help of someone sighted," she whispers over to Brandon. Her eyes are fixed on the apparition, though. "Who knew Taylor Swift is so powerful."

"We used to sing this song-- I mean play this song," Brandon begins--

"Every soundcheck. But you knew that, didn't you?" The apparition turns a beatific smile on Ruby. "She's a good one, Bran. Don't fuck this one up."

Almost immediately, Brandon downshifts from awestruck into amiably defensive, laughing! "You know I wouldn't--"

Ruby did know. She also was the proud owner of a flash drive containing a recording from the Hollywood Bowl. She doubted that it was the only copy, but she liked to pretend it was. She can't stop staring at Ansal, slowly relaxing and accepting what was happening while never letting go of Brandon's hand. Her cheeks flush and she looks away bashfully at Ansel's compliment.

"You're only saying that because you know I'm your fan too," she teases Ansel lightly. "Big fan." She couldn't hide it. Hell, if he'd been paying attention, he knew. But this wasn't about her.

"It's really nice to meet you. I know Brandon has been missing you for a while."

"I know he has. And I get it. But he needs to listen to you. You've been good for him. In a lot of ways, I think," the smiling, luminous form of Ansel McGregor tells Ruby, translucent and glowing with a faint blue sheen, "but especially in that one."

Despite the casual dialogue the spirit seems inclined to engage in, Brandon's still holding his girlfriend's hand, clutching it really, staring at the ghost of his missing friend. "How," he asks Ansel, "are you even... you know. Here?"

"I'm not sure. I think it's to do with the guitar. I know I could only see bits and pieces of your life when Becca had it, but now... well, now I see you," the ghost says a bit sadly, "but I don't see her."

Ruby does her best to conceal a smug smile when Ansel reinforces what she's been telling him all along. He couldn't give up. Not when all of this was such a big part of him. She does give his hand another little squeeze. "That means a lot," she tells Ansel.

It's amazing. It's a miracle. Ruby's the type inclined to believe in science over religion or superstition, but this is undeniable. Whether it was a Spellbound thing or not, he was there, talking to them, giving Brandon the closure he so desperately needed.

"Maybe if Becca comes to visit, you'll be able to see her again too," Ruby offers gently. But it was unlikely that it was that simple. She smiles a little wryly. "Are you sure it wasn't Taylor Swift that brought you back?" She's POWERFUL!

Living and... whatever Ansel is, the boys exchange a glance when Ruby alludes to the power of Taylor Swift. She'd said that before, or something much to the same effect. This time, it's like their old partnership, friendship, camaraderie defies the grave as their eyes meet and they fall into an easy, playful banter.

"She's not wrong," Brandon tells Ansel.

"If it was anyone else, I'd have to talk with someone upstairs," Ansel agrees. "That kind of power can go to a person's head."

"You mean--?"

"Yeah, I think she's got people looking out for her," Ansel laughs. "And you do too, boy. But her people might have a little more sway than your main man, here."

"Well, that's just ridiculous," Ruby interjects. "Taylor is great but it's a true American tragedy that I didn't get another album with both of you on it when she has, what, nine?" Injustice. Ruby huffs. "Hmm... makes you wonder if the equipment would pick up Ansels voice." Maybe she'd get another album yet.

The huffing and what Brandon takes for mock-indignity might make for a spoiled pout, on some. But on her? The singer laughs indulgently, but at some very real level he always wants to make Ruby happy. The result? He’s nodding his head at the idea.

“You know, we could totally try,” Brandon says, echoing Ruby's idea. “Even if we’re only set up for Folklore here in Michigan. What do you think, Ansel? Musica Coelestis Rustica?“

The blue-limned apparition of Brandon’s best friend says nothing at first, only considering the pair in thoughtful silence.

"It'd be super cool," Ruby coaxes, trying to appeal to a ghost who she suspects doesn't really care what she thinks. "Maybe it's part of your unfinished business?" She suggests, not all that serious about that. But it did poke holes at one question, why was Ansel still there?

"But also, don't feel pressured. I just am a shameless fan."

Time stands still, or it moves so fast that Brandon and Ruby can’t comprehend it; there’s no telling which it must be, for Ansel. Here and yet not, present but somehow out of space and time, the bluish apparition of the lost Silvertone seems to consider this forever, and for barely a blink of a moment—

Then he gifts Ruby with an angelic smile. “She really is good for you, Bran.”

If Brandon’s grin isn’t broad enough at that, when Ansel adds, “Let’s give it a try,” the vocalist lights up like a Christmas tree.

Ruby finally lets go of Brandon's hand now that things have settled. "Hear that, Bran? He doesn't hate me," she beams. She really had been worried. Of course, she also hadn't expected to meet Ansel. At best, she thought maybe a Ouiji board, but this was way better.

She squeals when Ansel agrees to play something. Who knew if it'd work. Who cared!? At least she'd get to hear Ansel sing.

"Sorry, sorry," she said. She'd play it cool.

Brandon chuckles, a little beside himself and trying to hold it in. He casts a longing glance over toward the resident drum kit, giving Ansel's ghost a glance before saying, "Whatever we do, it's gonna have to be two guys and their guitars. Nothing else."

A look seems to pass between Brandon and the shimmering spectre, who answers his more corporeal friend with another mysterious smile. "Just the way it started, huh?"

"Yeah," says Brandon, wandering over to where his Strat is propped up on a stand. "Just the way it started." Picking up his favored guitar, he slings it on over his shoulder while toeing on only a single pedal, eyes glancing up to seek out Ruby. "This is for you, Surfer Girl. Any requests?" His smile is radiant in the moment.

Ruby makes herself comfortable again, slipping into the role of spectator while the two kindred souls caught up. She almost felt bad being there at all-- almost.

She slips her phone out of her pocket and turns on the voice recorder. If they could record Ansel's voice, she wanted Brandon to have it. Who knew if they'd get another chance? She hoped they would.

She considers the question for a few moments before deciding on a deep cut. "Davenport house."

When Ruby pulls her phone out, Brandon pauses, hand caught in his pocket fishing for his own. That smile breaks again, so wide and enchanted he might as well be giddy. She got there before he could ask her to? Never mind that of course she did, she was a fan before they ever met-- it's like he doesn't even need to ask. But then she throws a curveball.

That one wasn't expected. Brandon looks almost warily toward Ansel, for whom the song always held a special significance, and cocks an eyebrow in enquiry.

The ghostly guitarist only smiles a sad, inscrutable smile back and in response, he's playing a chiming chord. The actual, physical twelve-string Rickenbacker remains left behind on the couch, strings up, but now Ansel's holding its ghostly twin and playing the crystalline, swirling intro to the song.

The music fills up the practice space as richly as any made by mortal hands. Brandon's eyes go wide and he joins in, a bit pale, with the rhythmic accents. No vocals yet. His gaze again seeks Ruby's, checking on her.

Davenport House isn't a happy tune. It's laced with imagery nodding to an ending. One of Ansels, allegedly. She held her breath while she waited for their reaction. Would it hit a chord? Would it be healing? She hoped it was the latter. She hoped that if this were the last song they ever played together, it would bring some closure that a bop like Alison Wonderland never could.

But then Ansel's fingers move over the strings of his ghostly guitar, filling the room with the familiar starting notes of a song Ruby remembers listening to alone on night watch with only the dark ocean waves and these chords for company. She closes her eyes, just for a moment.

She does open them again, catching Brandon's eyes on her and gives him a supportive smile, as if to say, 'Nevermind me, pay attention.' She wasn't going anywhere.

It's like a blessing, a valediction when Ruby smiles at him, sending him on-- sending Brandon back into that bond with Ansel, so long ripped untimely from him, so long absent. For nearly two years, the void in his heart where that friendship lived had festered, cankered, hurt like nothing else was ever allowed to hurt.

Only in these last few months had healing begun. Only since meeting, falling for her had it really begun to fill again. Feel again. So when she bids him go on, dive in, return to what he remembers in spite of the danger-- and yes, there's an all too seductive danger in it-- it's not without acknowledging the risk of letting go.

Brandon O'Donnell isn't letting go. Tonight he's going back, if only for a little while, into the glorious past-- and coming back with something he'd left there thinking it lost forever.

The guitars rise and fall, Ansel's chiming, swirling, ringing lead tracing circles around the melody; Brandon accents it here and there. Their voices mirror the guitars, here with Brandon singing lead and Ansel harmonizing.

Walking down the path
there’s no turning back
the past is starting to fade

Down along the shore
couldn’t see much more,
your sister’s headline today
the suburban way

Then into the bridge, Brandon takes the vocal alone as Ansel plays a simple pattern of three bell-like notes, high, then descending, then ascending again, heavy on delay as it stretches out into infinity beneath the soaring melody of Brandon's voice:

well you all glow like everyone assumes
it’s just the way, awake to spinning rooms
and do it again

...and into the chorus the guitars snap back in, Brandon in full command of the words, Ansel chiming in on every last end-rhyme and keynote phrase.

so, so long to memory
so long to misery
made mistakes
and broken hearted aches
walk through the entry
pass by the history
photo frames
i’ve been through your house now, nothing
is the same

The opening verse, the chorus, all went much as Ruby might remember, though without the mesmerizing bassline and hypnotic drumbeat-- and of course, with the two of them here, playing it for her--

But the second verse? This verse Brandon hurls himself into. His eyes are squeezed tight, emotion raw as he bends his voice into a melodic mastery he typically reserves for the stage or a studio take:

didn't want to leave
couldn't ever see
what a kid like me could've known

about the way things go
about forever, so
we disappeared in a way
into another day

The words transcend the original intent. This was written for Ansel and Becca as they moved into a new relationship. Now it feels more like it's for Brandon, a farewell to a fondly-remembered past, the closing of a chapter.

What did Ruby know about himself that he didn't?

Ruby watches, eyes full of wonder as the impossible duet begins. For a moment, it feels like Ansel is alive again. The color of his skin shifts from ghostly pale to full of life as the chorus swells and two souls separated by life and death reunite for a few sacred moments. The phone is recording, but Ruby has forgotten about it. She's transfixed on the scene in front of her.

Her heart swells and aches in equal parts. It is a bittersweet moment that feels laced with finality that she wasn't ready to accept. Her sage green eyes shift from Ansel to Brandon. Was he going to be ok after this? Would this leave a gaping wound? Could he take this loss a second time? Or was this healing? She really didn't know. All she knew was she would be there to pick up the pieces or step into this new chapter with him, because it felt like that's what this was, the end of one thing and the beginning of something else.

The words continue to subvert their original meaning. She knew what she was doing when she suggested this song. She knew it was about endings, but she didn't know that the strain in Brandon's voice and the emotional entanglement they were currently knotted up in would transform it so completely. The song, one she'd heard a thousand times, was new again and beautiful and heartbreaking all at the same time.

There’s something that Ansel knows too, now. Something unknowable. The specter of Brandon’s best friend smiles a sage, secret smile as he observes his old partner, all while playing on in a jangling solo that sets up the bridge.

Brandon’s eyes open as his lips move, wide and shining as they lock with the glow of Ansel’s bright, eldritch gaze. The words do mean something different now.

your sister warned us when she said goodbye
a different fate awaits us when we fly
too close to the sun

And maybe Ansel did, and Brandon sees that now. But the brief, shining flame that was his songwriting partner doesn’t have to blink out—not while friends and collaborators who remember remain. The boys slide together, smiling at one another; it’s a nod from Ansel that sets Brandon free to turn to Ruby as he sings the chorus.

So, so long to memory…

When he turns to her, she's there. She can sense that Ansel's time with them isn't likely to last much longer. It feels like he's passing Brandon to her, entrusting her in some strange way to take over where he'd left. Of course, Ruby could never fill Ansel's shoes. She wasn't him. Could never be him or understand that sacred bond that friends who become brothers share. But she couldn't be his rock. His through line. Something steady to hold onto when the waves of life were turbulent.

"That was beautiful."

Brandon ducks his head as the last note of his words fades into the ether, combing his fingers back through his hair as his own guitar sits unused at his waist; the outro is taken by Ansel. It’s a swirling, ensorcelling melody that spirals around the listener and leads them away from the moment before bringing them back into it.

The ghost smiles again. This time it’s peaceful, serene, a benediction. Brandon lifts his head and meets Ansel’s eyes one last time.

Ruby’s quiet words are breathed into the silence.

The space of a heartbeat passes. Brandon looks to his friend—then lifts the guitar up over his head, setting it back on its stand and extending his arms to the beautiful blonde who’s been there for him through this whole strange ordeal.

Ansel fades away, and the room feels empty once he's completely disappeared into the ether. It's easy to wrap her arms around him, pull him onto the couch and into her warm body. Words fail her. What could she possibly say after such an incredible yet heartbreaking moment. The truth was, there was never enough time. Ansel could have stayed all night, and it wouldn't have been enough. She presses her lips to his temples. She was there. Whatever he needed in that moment, she'd be it. She wasn't going anywhere.

It’s over. Ansel’s gone, faded back into whatever plane he came from, the only sign of his presence the 12-string lying, strings up and forgotten for now, at the end of the old couch.

The moment is not fully past, though. Brandon settles in beside Ruby, silent for a long moment, just leaning into her before finally closing his shining eyes and laying his head in her lap.

He rests like this a long moment, just allowing himself to breathe in what’s happened while safe in her arms. Then his eyes open, and he tells her, “I loved him, you know. I guess I always will.” A smile, distant and thoughtful but not sad, returns to his lips. “I’m so glad you were here.”