Rheya confronts her father.
After the band broke up, they’d become relatively unheard of. Hiding their existence and his former rock star status from her had been relatively easy. But it hadn’t completely disappeared. He knew she’d find out eventually, on some random Google or youtube search or something. And now she had. He wasn’t sure what to expect.
“My Chemical Romance,” she said, weighing the words as though trying them out for the first time. And honestly she was trying them out for the first time. They’d never talked about his old band. “I like it. I’ve listened to the CDs. Kind of old, but pretty cool. And these pictures! Dad, you were cute! Your friends were cuter!”
He looked up at her warily. “That’s it?”
She shrugged. “What more is there?”
“I don’t know, maybe a rant about why I lied to you, or…or…I don’t know, something!”
She smiled. “Well, I can yell if you want me to, but I know why you did it.”
“Yeah. The whole, ‘My father, the rock star’ thing just isn’t you. I am disappointed in one thing though.”
He tensed. “Yeah? And what is that?”
She smiled bigger. “Drummer? Really? I always sort of pictured you as a bassist or something.”
He laughed out loud at that. “Yeah, well, I guess beating the crap out of things is a Bryar family tradition that you missed out on. My little girl just had to go and steal the spotlight. Lead guitar. Frank would be so proud.”
Rheya’s face turned serious again. She reached down and picked up one of the pictures. She studied the faces in it for a long time. “Frank,” she mused. “Was he your lead guitarist? Dad, I don’t know these people. Where are they now?”
Bob shrugged. “I’m not sure. We lost touch.” Rheya frowned. “What?” he asked.
“It’s just…” she struggled to find the words. “Dad, I’m in a band. We play twice a week in Danny’s basement. We’re nowhere near as close as you guys must have been, what with living together on a bus and what not. But still, they’re my life. I can’t imagine ever just ‘losing touch.’ What happened to you guys?”
He cringed. “Long story.”
“We have time.”
“Are you really going to make me tell you?” he pleaded.
She stood. “Nope.”
He looked at her, shocked. Something was definitely up. She never backed down that easily, not from something she wanted. “Nope?”
“But I’ll make you a deal.”
He rolled his eyes. “Let’s hear it.”
“Either you tell me, or you take me to meet them and let them tell me.”
“Sit down, I’ll tell you.” She remained standing.
“Actually on second thought, no deal. I want them to tell me. I want to meet them, and honestly, dad, you haven’t seen them in what? Forever?”
“Sixteen years! Ok, that’s it. Road trip. We’re going on a serious trip down memory lane.”
He shook his head. “No, we’re not.” His voice was firm and unwavering, but the sadness layered there was unmistakable.
“Why not?” she asked thoughtfully.
He looked up at her, choosing his words with care. “They don’t…really want to see me. I’m sort of the reason the band broke up.”
She didn’t answer for a moment. “All the more reason to go.”
He shook his head. “Dad,” she asked. “Did they ever outright say they don’t want to see you?”
He shook his head again. “Then we’re going. That’s final.”