“Do you know where she is?” Sam asked.
“Still staying with one of her girlfriends, I assume.”
“Well, what are you gonna do about it?”
Jake glanced toward the east-facing windows. The light outside had grown dim and gray; he couldn’t believe it was already past six. He looked down at his notebook splayed open on the coffee table, felt his heart pick up speed, the fire burning inside.
“I need you and Hale to meet me at the studio.”
“Now?”
“Yes. Please.”
“I’m exhausted, Danner. And we have back-to-back shows starting tomorrow. I need one more night off.”
“I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t desperate, Sam.” Jake spun the empty beer bottle around in his fingers.
“What is it?”
“I wrote a song today. I think it might be the best one yet. I want us to play it out.”
“Tonight?”
“I have this momentum going. Just trust me.”
“It’s a song about Molly, isn’t it?” Sam sighed. “All right. I’ll tell Hale. We’ll meet you in an hour.”
* * *
“Molly’s Song” was released as a single in March. It might’ve been too soon after the release of The Narrows, from a tactical standpoint, but Jerry and Ron didn’t care—they knew from the very first listen it was going to be a hit.
The same month, Danner Lane was slated to open for Arcade Fire at Madison Square Garden. It was a monstrously huge deal—it would be the band’s greatest exposure yet, without a doubt—and Jerry wanted them to kick off the set with “Molly’s Song.”
In the meantime, Danner Lane continued to gain traction. Their shows at top venues around the city—Bowery Ballroom, Music Hall of Williamsburg, Glasslands—were consistently sold out, and “Molly’s Song” became their most purchased song on iTunes, tripling “Salt River” in downloads.
Jake didn’t know if Molly had heard it yet, but he could only assume she had—everyone had. In the two weeks since the song had been out in the world, Jerry had already been approached by the producers of Shameless, a new Showtime series, requesting the use of “Molly’s Song” in the season finale.
A few days before the Madison Square Garden show, Jake sent Molly an email with an invitation to attend.
Moll,
We’re opening at MSG on Saturday. It won’t mean anything unless you’re there. I put your name on the guest list with two VIP passes, which you can pick up at will call. Please come. I miss you and love you so fucking much. I’ll never stop being sorry.
Jake
PS: I heard from Bella the other day. She said you guys had a great lunch meeting, and that she’s obsessed with your writing and that she’s offering you representation for Needs. I’m so proud of you, Moll. You earned this. You deserve it.
Jake hadn’t heard from Molly by the time Saturday rolled around. He couldn’t shake the nerves in the pit of his stomach. He was anxious about the show—playing MSG was by far their most monumental opportunity yet, and one he couldn’t fuck up—but it was more than that. Jake knew in his gut that if Molly didn’t come that night, they were over. If he didn’t see her face in the crowd—her big hazel eyes, her high, reddened cheekbones—the face that was perfect to him in every way—he’d probably never see it again.
Backstage, Hale swung his arm around Jake’s and clinked their beers. With his free hand, he gestured out toward the stage and the twenty thousand people in the audience beyond.
“This is it, my friend. We’re fucking making it.”
“We’ve dreamed about a moment like this for a long time, huh?” Jake tipped the neck of his bottle back and swallowed.
“Since middle school, probably.” Hale nodded. “Dicking around in the garage, me on the drums, you and Sammy on guitar. Hey, don’t sound so depressed, Danner. Maybe she’s out there. And if she’s not, you can have any girl you want tonight. You’re the hotshot pretty boy on lead vocals. You’re the one they all want.” Hale’s tone was strange; it was unclear how serious he was being.
“We built this band together,” Jake said. “The three of us are equals.”
“Ha.” Hale stepped back, tossing his empty bottle into the trash. “That’s not true anymore, and you of all people know it.”
“Hey,” Jerry called from behind them. “It’s a packed house out there. Ron said he can’t remember the last time he’s seen this many show up for an opening act at the Garden. Get rid of that drink, Danner. You guys are on in five.”