Page 78 of Unfinished Noise

Farlan paced, then stopped. “Billy’s guitar. It’s gone.”

Spencer’s stomach tightened. “Gone how? Where is it?”

Billy wiped his face. “I—”

Farlan cut in. “We went out drinking. Billy set it on the table when we danced. When we came back… it wasn’t there.”

Jamie stood near the wall, arms crossed, eyes rolling hard enough to scrape the ceiling.

Spencer’s anger spiked red-hot. “You left it at a table? In a bar? Are you kidding me?”

Billy flinched. Farlan looked down at the carpet.

Spencer ran a hand through his hair, trying to breathe past the frustration. Billy’s guitar was more than just an instrument. His father had given it to him the same month he passed away. Billy carried it around like a piece of his heart.

Spencer sat beside Billy. “I brought my backup. You can use it.”

Billy’s head snapped up. “Spence… no. I can’t take your guitar.”

“You’re not taking it,” Spencer said. “You’re borrowing it. We need you playing. And you need something in your hands right now.”

Billy’s face crumpled. “Thank you.”

Spencer got up, grabbed the case from the corner, and set it gently in Billy’s lap. Billy’s hands hovered over the latches for a moment, thumbs brushing the metal as if he was checking for scratches before he even opened it. He cradled the case against his chest, careful not to let the edge bump the bedframe.

Jamie let out a sharp breath. “Stop being so damn nice to him.”

Spencer turned. “What?”

Jamie’s eyes squinted with anger. “Billy screwed up. Again. And you’re acting like it’s your job to fix him. And handing him my new guitar.”

A gentle tug, like a protective shield, tightened behind Spencer’s stomach. “Jamie… he’s hurting. It’s my older guitar.”

“Yeah,” Jamie said. “And you’re always the one fixing it.”

Spencer didn’t snap back. He tried to read the frustration beneath Jamie’s words. Jamie cared—sometimes too much, sometimes in ways that came out sideways.

Billy whispered, “I’m sorry, Spence.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

Jamie rushed out of the hotel room so fast that the door slammed behind him. Spencer froze for half a second, then bolted after him.

“Jamie! Hold on!”

Jamie sprinted down the hallway, shoulders tight, head down. He reached the elevator and jabbed the button. Spencer pushed harder, boots thudding on the carpet, but the doors slid shut right as he reached them.

“Damn it,” Spencer muttered, hitting the metal with his palm. He needed to be responsible, needed to help Billy, and needed to keep the band steady. But Jamie storming off like that twisted something inside him. He hated seeing Jamie upset. Hated being the reason for it.

Spencer spun around and took the stairs, three flights down, legs burning. He reached the lobby level and waited for the elevator to open.

Empty.

“Jamie,” he whispered under his breath. “Where did you go?”

He retraced his steps, checking each hallway on all three floors. Nothing. Every empty corridor made his pulse jump a little faster. He wouldn’t lose his mind over this, but he was close.

He took the elevator to the basement where the pool was. Chlorine hit him the second the doors opened. The room glowed with blue water and dim lights reflecting off the tiles.