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Ashley J. Williams was a lot of things. Funny (at least to himself and - he liked to think - Eli), a danger to society (a cop had told him once, he had chosen to take it as a compliment) and kind of a DILF (if a girl he’d met in West Virginia was to be believed, and she had seemed very trustworthy). But what he was right now was concerned. Which in and of itself was actually kind of concerning. Ash liked to think that he had sharpened his “fuck-it” attidtude to the point where it could cut through concern like a chainsaw through human flesh and so, the fact that he wasn’t able to shake this particular concern was honestly starting to get to him a bit.
Now, if Ash was nervous about going back to Elk Grove then that was between him, God and possibly a nice broad who had a thing for more sensitive guys, but that wasn’t the problem here. The problem was that as the trio had made their way from Jacksonville he had started to sense that he wasn’t the only nervous one in the Delta. Pablo would spend their hours on the road either staring out of the side or the front window, depending on if it was his turn to ride shotgun or not, and none of the delightfully seedy motels they stopped at seemed to do anything to cure his general…exhaustion. Ash had even slipped the receptionist at one of the motels a crumpled bill and some pocket lint to give Pablo an extra pillow - with the understanding that if this bribe was not accepted Ash would saw the front desk in half and drive off into the night - but the day after, Pablo’s eyes had still been hollow and baggy.
Ash had as subtly as he could manage asked about the pillow and Pablo had smiled and said that it had been great and that he’d slept like a baby, while also looking like he was going to start crying at any moment. That wasn’t something Ash considered himself equipped to handle, so he had quickly and smoothly exited the conversation by telling the kids to get in the car, but he was starting to sense that that might have been a mistake. Maybe it would have been good to let Pablo cry for a bit, even if it would have been really embarrassing for the both of them?
Oh well. Nothing can be done about what’s already happened , Ash thought as he peered back at Pablo through the rearview mirror. What mattered now was how to proceed with this.
Did Pablo want to talk about it? Possibly. Scratch that, probably . But the question was, did Ash want to talk about it and the answer was an emphatic ‘no’. First of all, it was awkward and second of all, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to give any sort of advice for whatever problems Pablo had. Ash could handle two things: dating and deadites, and Pablo’s problems seemed to be of a darker, more internal type.
With talking off the table, Ash was left with very few options. Or rather, with only one option, but one he really liked.
“Hey!” he said cheerfully. “Next place we stop, what do you say we get real wasted?”
“You miss Jacksonville?” Kelly asked and Ash couldn’t help but let out a wistful sigh.
“More than anything. But we’ve got a job to do, so no dwelling on the acid trips of the past. We’ve gotta look to the acid trips of the future.” He suddenly realised that he had started veering off topic, and quickly got himself back in gear. “Or, you know, just the booze of the future. I don’t think we’re gonna be able to get any acid in “wherever the fuck”-ville on short notice.”
“Heartbreaking,” Kelly said dryly. “I’m so not looking forward to watching you come down from whatever combination of drugs you’re planning on taking once we get out of this.”
Pablo muttered something Ash couldn’t quite hear, and he cast a quick glance over his shoulder to the backseat.
“What was that Pablo?”
“Nothing.”
“He said “ If we get out of this”,” Kelly, reliable as ever, relayed, then looked back at Pablo with a frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. I’m just-” Pablo sighed, and stubbornly avoided eye contact. “I’m just tired.”
“Okay, I can’t believe I’m gonna say this-” Kelly paused for a second, as if it was genuinely difficult for her “- but I think Ash is right. Maybe some shots would do you good.”
“Ha! See, I told you.” Ash grinned over his shoulder. “What do you say, Pablo?”
“Wha- Yeah. Sure.” Pablo nodded, still just staring out of the window, rather than meeting Ash’s gaze. That was probably a bad sign. But also, Ash was dying for a drink and if he was lucky there might be someone hanging out around the dumpsters of whatever motel they decided to stay at who had some fun pills they’d be willing to part with.
The motel they eventually settled on was called the Illinois Falls Supreme Comfort Motel. There were no falls nearby to Ash’s knowledge, and supreme comfort was definitely an overstatement, but he was fairly certain they were still in Illinois. Thirty-three percent right wasn’t too bad, if he remembered exams correctly.
Ash stepped into the reception while Kelly and Pablo got their things, and by the time they arrived he had managed to convince the receptionist that they deserved a discount on their rooms (because the ‘Music night with local talent!’ that was advertised on the door really wasn’t going to bring in as many guests as the receptionist thought and so honestly he should just be happy that the trio were staying at all). It wasn’t a huge discount by any means, but it was money they could spend on drinking instead and that did mean something.
“Every cent counts,” Ash said to the kids as they headed upstairs with their room keys. “Those five dollars could be the difference between drunk and black-out drunk.”
To that, Kelly declared that if Ash blacked out she would take Pablo, the Delta and Ash’s hand and go back to Jacksonville, so Ash quickly promised that he would stay awake. If it weren’t directed at him, he would have been very proud of how scummy the threat was ( “Good call going for the hand, Kel. Very tasteless.” ), but as it was he was only mostly proud and a little upset. He dropped Kelly and Pablo off at their shared room, then headed to his own which - luckily - was only next door. That meant it would be easier to rendezvous in case evil needed to be fought, which was a bit of a necessity for the group.
Ash’s room was pretty decent. The large bed had some pretty suspicious stains on it, but it also looked great for crashing in and Ash was decently sure that he wouldn’t be thinking of the stains once his blood alcohol percentage was sufficiently raised. He opened the windows to air some of the wizz smell out, then changed from his usual blue shirt to a more comfortable button-up he’d bought in Saint Augustine. It had a bunch of scantily clad chicks posing with various tropical drinks on it. God he missed Florida.
“Alright people-” Ash said when he met up with Kelly and Pablo in the corridor “- here’s the plan: we get a light dinner of whatever they’ve got here that's edible. My treat. Then, me and Kel scurry over to the bar, because I don’t trust you to choose your own pick-me-up drink.”
He reached out to pat Pablo on the shoulder.
“No offence, buddy.”
"Thanks,” Pablo mumbled. He flashed Ash what could possibly be the most miserable smile in human history, then pushed past him and Kelly and headed downstairs. Ash gave Kelly a look, which he hoped would convey something along the lines of ‘You wouldn’t happen to know what’s wrong with Pablo’s brain right now, would you?’, but only got a shrug in return. With that less than enlightening exchange out of the way, the two of them followed Pablo down to the motel’s dining area and picked out a table as far from the stage as possible. Some sort of string ensemble were setting up, and in Ash’s experience that sort of folk could get real pissy if you - for example - got very loudly drunk while they were performing. Furthermore, their seat was closer to the actual kitchen area, which meant they’d get both food and drinks faster. A true win-win situation, if Ash had ever seen one.
The same guy from the reception brought them a stack of greasy, laminated menus. He couldn’t quite suppress a grimace when seeing who he was serving, and Ash made sure to smile at the guy to remind him who was in charge here, before assessing the food situation.
Ash and Kelly had to debate who would order what for a while, with Pablo only interjecting with hums and nods here and there, but they eventually decided that the establishment’s burgers couldn’t be that bad and called for the receptionist-waiter. The menus had claimed that everything was cooked in the ‘high-grade kitchen’, but Ash was fairly certain that that was complete horseshit. They ordered their food as the people on stage started tuning, and not even halfway through the first piece it was brought to them on paper plates and trays almost as greasy as the menus had been.
They ate quickly, with Ash silently deciding that if they didn’t mix drinks better than they flipped burgers here, the group would leave without paying. Some dining and dashing might actually cheer Pablo up, or at least make him a bit more alert. The food certainly didn’t do the trick - while Ash and Kelly were taking turns trying to come up with the most bland combination of adjectives to describe it, Pablo just poked at his burger now and then like he was expecting it to do a trick. He wasn’t even halfway through it by the time Ash and Kelly had finished, which did give Ash a genius idea.
“Hey, what do you say me and Kel go pick out a drink for you while you finish that up?” He nodded to the neglected burger and Pablo looked at it like he’d only now remembered it was there.
“That sounds- Yeah. Sure, thank you,” he said, staring down at his plate. Ash considered reminding him that you needed to actually put the burger in your mouth if you wanted it consumed, but eventually decided that Pablo was clever enough to figure that out on his own and instead just left for the bar with Kelly trailing after him.
“So what are you thinking?” she asked, once they were hanging over the bar and probably scaring the receptionist-waiter-bartender a little. He kept glancing at them.
“For me, whatever their strongest stuff is. For Pablo, maybe a spiked capri sun or something.” The receptionist-waiter-bartender looked their way again and Ash waved at him with his prosthetic hand. (“Yeah. Caught you looking.”)
“Real funny. I want frozen margaritas,” Kelly said and Ash nodded.
“That sounds good. Hey, by the way-” he smoothly transitioned from one topic to the next “-do you know what’s eating at Pablo? I feel like he’s been off ever since we left Jacksonville.”
“Are you kidding me? He’s been off since the cabin. At least.” Kelly shot him a very loaded look and Ash was man enough to admit that he might have felt a hint, a smidge of guilt.
“Okay, in my defence - going back to that cabin was very difficult for me,” he said and Kelly immediately huffed.
“Yeah, and I’m sure it was really hard to notice something was up when you were on LSD like, seventy percent of the time.”
Ash would have made a brilliant counterargument, if it weren’t for that smidge of guilt from earlier returning with a vengeance. It was more like a chokehold now, or possibly an elbow drop, and the more Ash looked back at the past few months the more he thought that maybe there had been something there that he should have noticed.
“Okay, yeah, so we’ve all made mistakes, is basically what you’re saying,” he said, then quickly continued before Kelly could argue against him. “But my question still stands - do you know what’s wrong with him?”
“You-” Kelly sighed. “I’m not sure, but I think he might be feeling a bit…behind.”
“Behind?”
“Like, weak, I don’t know.” She frowned. “We were talking and he kept going on about rusty chains and shit. It was weird.”
“Huh.” That was definitely weird. As in, the bit about the rusty chains was weird, not Pablo feeling weak. While Ash definitely thought that Pablo had proven himself to be pretty damn competent, if you looked at it a certain way it wouldn’t exactly be wrong to call him the weakest of the group. Comparatively.
“Do you think he’ll feel better if we get him a rusty chain?” Ash asked, after a second more of contemplation, and Kelly immediately shook her head.
“It wouldn’t suit him. He’s more of a- I don’t know…” she trailed off and cast a quick glance back at Pablo “...a nerf gun guy. Or, like, a mallet but the kind that clowns have that make a squeaky noise.”
“Okay, now I think you’re selling him a bit short, Kel.” Ash tried to gesture to Pablo as discreetly as possible. “He’s got potential. He could make a rusty chain work.”
Admittedly, it was a bit hard to picture, but Ash could be an imaginative guy when he tried, and he had also seen Pablo, hunched over on a dirt floor and throwing up demon babies just a few months ago. With some willpower, he could add a rusty chain to that mental image.
“Nah.” Kelly had turned to look at Pablo again. “He’s too sweet for that.”
Ash could have been mistaken, but it had sounded like there was a certain softness to Kelly’s voice. It was probably best not to push on that matter, though, he decided when Kelly quickly shook her head as if to clear her thoughts.
“Anyway. That’s not the point. We can’t just give him a weapon and call it a day.”
“So what are we gonna do, then? And please don’t say ‘talk to him’.” The moment Ash said it, he wished he could take it back. He was fairly certain Kelly would still have suggested it, but he still couldn’t help but feel like he’d contributed in some way.
“I don’t think we have a choice here.” Kelly sighed. “I don’t think it’s fun either, but we’ll do it together. Might actually be able to get some answers out of him.”
Ash groaned, mostly because he didn’t have an actual retort, then waved the receptionist-waiter-bartender over and told him to get them three frozen margaritas.
“Don’t be stingy with the good stuff, now,” he instructed the man. “And be ready to make a bunch more. I never stop at one margarita.”
Despite his general blandness and lack of charisma, the receptionist-waiter-bartender did mix drinks very quickly, and Ash and Kelly could soon get back to Pablo. He had actually gotten a few more bites in on the burger, and when Kelly told him his drink was going to melt if he didn’t finish soon, he did eat the last of it. Ash was polite enough to slide one of the glasses over to Pablo, before getting started on his own drink.
“Right,” he said once he’d downed the thing, figuring it was best to just dive in. “Something’s got you feeling down. Don’t think I haven’t noticed, because I have.”
“After you sobered up,” Kelly shot in.
“Agree to disagree. Anyway, Pablo, I just wanna say you’re an absolute delight to have on the team.” Ash reached across the table and patted Pablo’s shoulder. “There’d be no Ghost Beaters without you, buddy.”
Quick and effective. Ash smiled, in part to further reassure Pablo and in part because he had handled the situation damn well. Or at least, that’s what he thought, but unlike what he had expected, Pablo didn’t even return the smile. He just stared at Ash with wide, misty eyes, his brows drawn close together and his jaw tensing. Or, to put it another way, looking somehow even more miserable than he had before.
“You gotta talk to us, man,” Kelly mercifully said before things had been silent for too long and before Pablo had the chance to start crying. “Tell us what’s bothering you so we can help out.”
Pablo didn’t say anything, and while Kelly presumably tried to wear him down by staring at him, Ash waved to the receptionist-waiter-bartender, then pointed to his empty glass. That was apparently an effective enough signal, and soon they all had refills. Or rather, Ash and Kelly had refills and Pablo had two full glasses of frozen margarita, one of which was starting to melt. It was tragic, really, seeing a good drink go to waste like that.
“Listen, Pablito -” Ash tried to keep his voice soft, which was a bit difficult to do after one and a half drink “- you’ll feel better if you talk about it, I guarantee you. And then me and Kel’ll feel better because we don’t like seeing you like this. Things will just be…better, all around.”
He felt like he had lost his train of thought a bit at the end there, but what was said was said and he’d just have to stick with it. Besides, it did seem to get through at least a little bit because Pablo swallowed thickly and finally spoke, albeit very quietly and very shakily.
“I feel like I screwed everything up. Back at the cabin, I mean.” He swallowed again. “I’m the reason those spawn got out, and I’m the reason you had to take that deal-”
“Pablo, don’t say that,” Kelly interrupted, and Ash nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, I’ve made a lot of questionable choices in my life and that wasn’t one of them.”
“But you shouldn’t have had to make that choice to begin with!” Pablo looked like he was caught off guard by the volume of his own voice, and he took a moment before continuing. “I just- I’m scared . Scared that I’m gonna drag you guys down or worse, get you hurt. And with everything…”
He suddenly trailed off, and then shook his head.
“Forget it. You guys aren’t gonna get it, so you shouldn’t worry about it.”
“No, listen-” Ash began, intending to say something vaguely comforting, when things suddenly seemed to fall into place in an instant “-I know exactly how you feel. It’s like when your friend is fighting his undead girlfriend and really needs your help, but you can’t actually get your ass in gear enough to axe her, you know?”
Things got very quiet, with both Kelly and Pablo just staring quizzically at Ash.
“What?” Kelly finally asked and, okay, that might have merited some elaboration. Ash took another big sip of frozen margarita.
“What I’m trying to say is - I know what it’s like to feel weak because I’ve been there myself. I used to be a total dweeb. Reading, cello classes, the works. But look at me now.” He tried to give Pablo a reassuring smile and nod, despite the sudden bitter feeling somewhere deep in his stomach. “It gets better.”
“Wait, you play the cello, jefe ?” Pablo was finally showing an emotion other than unbridled agony, which was good, but Ash couldn’t help but bristle slightly.
“ Played ,” he corrected with a wiggle of his prosthetic hand. “But yeah, like I said, complete loser. So if there’s hope for me, there’s definitely hope for you, amigo .”
“Ash, we’re in the twenty-first century. You don’t have to act like playing an instrument is embarrassing,” Kelly said, and Pablo nodded slowly, suddenly looking rather thoughtful.
“Yeah, and besides…” He stopped to think for a second. “You do all the complicated finger stuff with your left hand, right? The right hand is just for the bow.”
Pablo did make a point, if Ash had caught what was implied correctly, but the idea still made him feel uneasy.
“I think so, yeah.” Kelly nodded. “What do you say, Ash? Wanna play us some tunes?”
Ash couldn’t even remember the last time he’d played - probably hadn’t counted on it being the last when he did it and as such hadn’t paid the occasion any extra mind - but it would have to have been at least thirty years ago. Even if he could physically pick up a bow and use it, it wasn’t like he would be able to play . Just the thought of trying and finding himself back at square one was enough to make him feel slightly nauseous.
“Out of the question,” he said, after a second too long of hesitation, and immediately felt like both Kelly and Pablo were looking a bit disappointed. “Hey, you’re not missing out! I’m real rusty, probably wouldn’t even be able to play a scale.”
He tried a winning smile, but didn’t get much of a response. A truly uncomfortable silence fell over the table, and Ash strongly considered just leaving and checking out what kind of ladies hung around this place. He couldn’t imagine there were any smokeshows, exactly, but it was always worth checking things out just in case…
Ash sighed deeply.
“Would it make you feel any better if I played you a little diddy?” he asked.
“I mean…” Pablo drew the word out, and Ash wasn’t sure if it was an intentional feigning of innocence or if he really needed some time to think “...it’s not like it would hurt .”
Ash sighed again.
“Fine, but I’ll be taking this -” he reached over and grabbed Pablo’s first, now completely un-frozen margarita and quickly downed it “- and I won’t do it here. Go back to your room, I’ll be up in a minute.”
Kelly and Pablo did as told, while Ash remained seated for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. This had probably been one of those aforementioned questionable choices, but going back on it now would definitely be worse than actually sticking with it. He just needed to man up and somehow procure a cello.
That would probably be the easiest part, he soon realised. The little string ensemble were just packing up their instruments, and there was a cello among them. A woman just a few years Ash’s junior was currently setting it down in its box, and he quickly headed over to her before he had the chance to change his mind.
“So sorry to disturb you,” he said, flashing her his most dashing grin. “I just had to say, I think you played beautifully tonight.”
“Why, thank you.” The woman smiled back. This close, Ash could get a proper look at the cello and felt that same nausea from earlier return. Oh yeah, this had been a terrible idea.
“I used to play myself, but you know-” he shrugged. Keep things casual “- haven’t exactly gotten much practice in, lately.”
Cello lady glanced down at Ash’s hand and her face immediately fell. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then cut herself off before trying again.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her tone soft. That was good. He was gaining some sympathy. It was a lot like picking up girls, actually, just with a few minor changes, Ash realised, and immediately felt a bit more sure of himself.
“It’s okay,” he sighed. “I’ve learned to live with it. But it did kinda kill my motivation for a bit and now…well, I don’t know if I could even hold a bow the right way anymore.”
Too close to home. Ash felt that bitterness from earlier return, and couldn’t help it seeping into his voice. Luckily, Cello lady carefully asked what had happened and Ash got a good excuse to lie for a bit. He made up a decently good story about an accident with a lawn mower, deciding that it was probably better to try and come off as a bit wimpy here. Ash wasn’t one for sympathy-screwing, so when he was looking for hook-ups he made a point of trying to come off as impressive rather than pitiful. But now, the sympathy helped and he mentally patted himself on the back for his impeccable finesse. He would have made for an excellent conman, really.
“This is gonna sound crazy,” Ash said, after finishing up his story. “But your playing tonight, well, it really inspired me and I was wondering…”
He trailed off, and sighed, admittedly a bit too overdramatic. Cello lady didn’t seem to notice, though, so he kept going as intended.
“No, no, forget about it.” He waved his prosthetic hand dismissively. Drew some attention to it for extra points. Cello lady frowned slightly, looking like she was deep in thought, and took some time before she spoke.
“Were you…Do you want to borrow it?” Her voice sounded a bit hesitant, but that was her problem, really, Ash decided. She’d been the one to offer. No take backsies.
“I was gonna ask,” he said, trying to match Cello lady’s hesitancy. “It’s just…I don’t think I could play here. No, I’ll need to be alone when I pick the bow back up. But I appreciate the offer, sweetie.”
“You could- I mean, I’ve already packed it up so if you want to take it back to your room…” She looked nervously between the cello and Ash’s prosthetic. “Just as long as you’re careful with it.”
“Thank you. I promise.” Ash put a hand over his chest, somewhere in what he thought was the general heart area, smiling as Cello lady closed the box and tentatively handed it over. He accepted it with his flesh hand, figuring it would help ease her mind a bit, reassured her once again that he would be exceedingly careful, then headed off for the stairs up to the rooms.
As soon as he was out of sight he switched to carrying it in the prosthetic hand. Feeling the plasticy, leather-textured handle brought back a lot of memories he wasn’t sure he wanted to unpack right now. Walking back and forth to classes at the Elk Grove chapel, no matter if it was raining, snowing or hailing. That was the one thing he’d never been late to, and the old lady who taught the classes had pinched his cheek and called him a proper little lady for it. She was definitely dead by now - she had been at least seventy.
When Ash reached Kelly and Pablo’s room he could hear hushed voices coming from inside and he stopped for a moment, trying to listen in. He couldn’t actually make out any words, even with his ear pressed to the door, but things at least sounded calm and Pablo wasn’t crying. That was good enough, he decided, and stepped into the room. Kelly and Pablo were sitting on the bed, it turned out, and Ash gave them a quick nod as he crossed the room. He put the cello box down at the foot of the bed, then went to grab a chair.
“Alright, here’s how this is gonna go -” he said as he got to work unpacking the instrument, mostly to keep his brain occupied “- first few notes are gonna sound like something between a five year old’s first recital and a cow giving birth, and if anyone tries to be funny the concert’s over. Got that?”
“Got it,” Kelly and Pablo said in almost-chorus. They were a bit off and focusing on that kept Ash going all throughout setting up the endpin anchor, sitting down and leaning the cello against himself. It was when he got to the bow that things got more difficult. For a second, he could only stare at it, firmly secured on the faux-velvet inside of the box’s lid. He felt very watched - probably because Kelly and Pablo were staring at him - as he finally, slowly reached down for it, dreading the sound of fragile wood snapping under his metal fingers at any second. This had been a horrible idea. That hand had been made with care, but specifically to beat deadites, or crush beer cans or-
The bow did not snap. Ash held it for a moment, feeling the weight - or lack thereof - of it, then began to tighten it as slowly as he’d picked it up. A breathless silence hung over the motel room, and when he cast a quick glance up at Kelly and Pablo they had sat up straighter, as if they really were about to watch a performance. A real performance, not a slightly tipsy, middle-at-best-aged man dicking around with a borrowed cello.
“Should be tuned already,” he muttered to himself, gently placed the bow on the strings then drew it across them all creating a sudden and loud noise. Kelly and Pablo both jumped slightly and he smirked at them, before looking back down at the cello and repeating the motion, slower now, the bow passing over each string in turn and listening to their individual tones.
That continued for a while, each stroke of the bow more steady than the last, and Ash mumbling on about any facts about the instrument he could remember. He wasn’t sure if Kelly and Pablo heard, but it felt good to be saying something and he did remember a lot more than he’d initially thought. It was kind of like entrails - once you started tugging, a lot came spilling out.
He placed his left hand on the fingerboard, immediately falling into the posture that had been drilled into him for years. The voice of his old teacher came back again, as if the sound of a cello had summoned her restless spirit. You’re far too tense, Ashley. You’ll end up damaging your hands if you keep that up.
He had to struggle to find the right finger placement, moving up and down the board, searching for anything that sounded good. Sometimes he thought he might have struck gold, but when he compared it to the open string it immediately sounded dissonant. He wished he could remember his old teacher’s name so he could explain himself to her, or at least tell her to fuck off and that he was doing his best.
It was starting to get dark outside, when he finally managed to get through Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star with only some minor cursing. Kelly and Pablo gave some scattered applause, which Ash accepted with a nod. He lowered the bow, and tried to think of something else to play, quickly deciding that neither kids songs or classics would work. To begin with, this was not the crowd for either of those things and furthermore Ash was definitely not going to get through a sonata anytime soon. No, he needed something that was fun but still simple and a memory suddenly reared its head.
It had been one of the first times Scotty ever came over to visit, and he’d immediately zeroed in on the cello like a shark smelling blood. Ash, elated to be spending time with a boy his age other than Chet (who was great but not exactly the creme de la creme of the school), had almost panicked, but somehow managed to compose himself enough to try to sell his new friend on the cello as a party trick.
Scotty had been the one to pitch the weekend at the cabin. Funnily enough, if Ash had just stammered something about how he thought it sounded nice or whatever, he and Sheryl might have spent that weekend at home as usual. He would have practised and she would have drawn, and neither of them had thought about it.
“Okay, so now we’re gonna need some audience participation,” Ash managed to say after a short while. “I’m pretty sure you’ll know what to do and if you don’t, I’m older than I thought.”
Without waiting for a response, he went searching for a good place to start, testing out different notes and playing short snippets of the intended piece. Slowly but surely he figured out where his fingers would have to go, and after a deep breath, he started playing.
The first few bars came out so jumbled they were barely recognisable or - Ash’s suspected - totally unrecognisable if you didn’t have the advantage of being the one playing. But it was basically just the same few notes over and over for a bit, and as he repeated them he started feeling more sure of himself. When he was nearing the end of the first verse he looked up at Kelly and Pablo, deciding that it looked like they probably knew what to do. Pablo, at least, looked somewhat amused which in the end was the point of the whole operation. Ash put some flourish - not the best sounding flourish but flourish nonetheless - into the final strokes, then pointed the bow at Kelly and Pablo like a conductor.
“Tequila!” It was even more out of sync than before, but Ash couldn’t help but chuckle to himself nonetheless, as he got started on the second verse, which was really just a repeat of the first verse. He knew there were some differences, but was pretty certain that attempting those would just throw him off, and he was actually sort of getting in the groove right now. And by the time the three of them got to the second ‘Tequila’ they were actually in time. Or well, pretty in time, but that was a minor miracle in Ash’s books.
“Okay, now for the last one I need you to put some feeling into it, okay?” he managed to say without entirely losing his rhythm, and got enthusiastic, if not very loud cheers from Kelly and Pablo. He tried to switch things up a little bit for the final verse, mostly failing horribly, but somehow actually managed to land on his feet for the final notes.
“Tequila!”
the trio yelled, Kelly cupping her hands around her mouth and Pablo applauding while he did. Ash felt a truly embarrassing amount of fondness as he watched them - objectively - making absolute fools of themselves. He supposed he was part of that too, and the more he thought that statement over, it really didn’t sound so bad.