"Caught Up In You" Chapter 3

Dancing on my Own

“The track sounds great, Ethan…” Ethan waited for the inevitable “but” that was about to come out of his boss’ mouth. His boss, Dennis, was a nice guy, probably the nicest producer working in the building, but that didn’t stop him from being a nitpicky, OCD, perfectionist asshole from time to time. And after three years of working for him, Ethan knew how to roll with it. “…But, I think we need to…” There it was, the inevitable “but”. Ethan already knew what his comment would be. He’d want him to layer in another track. Something pop-y. Something with synth. It wasn’t a bad note, and if it was a song Ethan would be dancing to in a club, he’d totally agree. But this particular musician wasn’t a club act. He had killer vocals and they were getting lost behind layer after layer of sound. It was a fucking shame, Ethan thought. But then again, that’s why he was an engineer and not a producer. Or really much of a songwriter anymore, he thought with a twinge of regret.

“Yup, I totally agree. I’ll cut a new version and have it to you sometime this afternoon.” Dennis smiled appreciably (another rarity for a producer) and left the dark room that Ethan called his office. The version that they showed in TV or movies was a lie. He rarely mixed on stage, except for when the artist came to record their vocals, but that was another rarity these days. Instead, he was confined to what could only be described as a dark, black box. As long as he had a cup of tea and some crackers, he was generally fine. Oh, and the occasional lunchtime spliff. Ethan really didn’t need much.

He already knew how he’d re-arrange the track, so he headed to the communal kitchen to make a fresh batch of tea and see if anyone brought in some pastries. Not that he’d necessarily have one, but he appreciated them being there. Ethan liked his options.

As soon as he walked in, he spotted Cassie. Her back was to him as she not-so-patiently waited for her Keurig coffee to finish brewing. He still had a hard time recognizing her with blonde locks. It looked great; blonde suited her. It made her look more grown-up, something Cassie was always fretting about. But he’d always remember that cute brunette he first met all those years ago. He met her before Mark even did. A fact that he liked to point out from time-to-time, especially when Mark brags about being the one to “find Cassie”. As if she were a lost dog in need of a home. Perhaps she was, in a way. Ethan and Cassie had been in the same orientation group. Before they had to introduce themselves with a weird icebreaker, he had spotted her from across the way with her pigtail braids and a laugh that could be heard all around campus. He didn’t say anything to her, he was much too shy and awkward in those days, but he had been smitten. Please let me have a class with her, he thought. And then that first week of classes came and went and he didn’t even see her around campus. His hopes were dashed until that weekend when Mark brought a “potential friend” to their dorm party (yes, that was how he worded it and Ethan still gives him grief about it), and it had been none other than her— Cassie Green. Ethan couldn’t believe his luck. Mark, of all people, had somehow befriended the girl Ethan had been thinking about all week. He had never loved his college roommate more than in that moment, even after all this time. Cassie and Ethan spent the whole night talking about their love of music (Beatles over The Rolling Stones, LCD Soundsystem over all else), movies (Anything Anderson- Wes and P.T.), and lack of religion (Jewish by proxy). Ethan was amazed at how well they meshed. There was one point that first night where he thought they were going to kiss, but he was too drunk and too stupid to do anything. And he liked to consider himself a gentleman. How he’d live to regret that moment.

Then they formed Pretty Whiskey. Originally it was supposed to be the three of them — Cassie, Mark, and Ethan. But, Cassie mentioned her friend Gabe played guitar and since Mark wasn’t the best guitarist and Ethan would’ve done anything to make her happy, Ethan happily obliged to let Gabe join. What a fucking dumb move that had been.

He could still recall that first rehearsal with stunning clarity. Gabe showed up a half hour late and Mark was not-so-silently fuming about how rude it was. Ethan thought Mark had a point (for once), but Cassie kept making excuses. Gabe ran on his own clock, she said. Ethan would later discover Gabe’s clock was better known as “getting too stoned and forgetting everything except where the Doritos were.” When Gabe finally did show up, he seemed completely uninterested in being there. In fact, he acted like he was doing all of them a favor by even being in the same room as them. Cassie had been encouraging, and Ethan had to admit he was a pretty decent guitar player, but he wasn’t overly impressed. And then Gabe sang. Ethan couldn’t deny how great he was — by far the strongest voice of the two (Mark didn’t count because his voice was arguably horrible. Some of their biggest “band fights” had been when they told Mark he couldn’t even sing back up anymore). After they heard Gabe sing, there was no way they could entertain the idea of a band without him. He was in.

They easily fell into their band dynamic: Gabe, the unreliable, but charming frontman. Cassie and Ethan as the steady musicians and the ones with the actual songwriting talent. Mark as the glue that held them all together. Despite the initial reservations they had about Gabe, Mark soon came to adore him. Ethan thought it might have had something to do with envy— Gabe was the guy Mark always wanted to be. Maybe by hanging out with him and being his friend, an ounce of that “coolness” would rub off on him (it never did). And Cassie worshipped the ground Gabe walked on. Even in those first few months, Ethan held onto the delusion that he and Cassie could be something. He had been working up the courage to ask her out, but nothing ever seemed good enough. She was a girl that needed to be swept off her feet. A casual, “do you want to grab dinner sometime?” wouldn’t have been enough. Or at least that’s what he led himself to believe. He hoped she would get the subtle hints by the songs they were writing together. When you wrote lyrics about “feeling the ache to be seen, to touch the one who is in striking distance,” he thought it was pretty clear. Sadly for Ethan, it was pretty clear to everyone except him that Gabe and Cassie had started hooking up. Or, as he later found out, resumed hooking up from their High School days. Ethan was undeniably disappointed, but he felt Gabe had a rightful claim to her. Ethan had waited too long, and after all, Gabe had been with her first. Besides, a band can only have one Stevie and Lindsay, and Cassie and Gabe were it. Ethan couldn’t stand in the way of it, and he didn’t. Sure, when Gabe did something shitty to piss Cassie off, Ethan was always the one to dry her tears and echo that Gabe was an ass. And when Gabe really fucked up, Ethan had been the one to help Cassie take care of that, too. Ethan had never been more relieved than when they graduated and Gabe left for New York. Good riddance. As much as he loved college and Pretty Whiskey, it was bittersweet. He was so close to Cassie, but never in the way he wanted to be, or felt he could be.

But after all these years, Ethan felt like he finally got the girl. Sure, she had Scott, and Ethan actually really liked Scott. Ethan had also dated many girls since college. Some Cassie liked and some she didn’t. But, no matter who came into their lives, they still had each other and an intimacy that only existed when people share their lives together. They shared an office. They shared songs. They even shared a secret that only existed between the two of them. The only thing they didn’t share was physicality or love. But, both of those are fleeting. True intimacy is the only thing of permanence.

As Ethan sidled up next to Cassie, whose Keurig finally finished brewing, he knew she would turn to him and smile. He knew she would ask how his morning was going. He knew she would make a joke about something Mark posted on Facebook last night. And he knew she would nervously fiddle with her hair throughout it all. After all these years, Ethan knew Cassie better than he knew himself.