We all have feelings. We all fall on hard times.”
“Yeah, because being a celebrity is so hard,” she said, the venom in her voice catching me off guard.
“Money isn’t everything,” I told her, taking her hand in mine. “If it was, I would’ve given up on this place a long time ago.”
“But you’re different. You’re holding on to precious memories and the kind of magic I’d do anything to give with my music.”
“You can,” I told her, “but only if you get out of your own way. I’ve heard you play your guitar and listened to the excitement in your voice whenever you talk about your craft.
That passion is still there and will always be there, but if you keep holding back like this, then that magic you mentioned will stay just out of reach. You need to be honest with yourself and stop letting your manager say what is or isn’t good for your public image. Don’t think about the upcoming tour or having to explain your time away. What do you want?”
“I…” She wet her lips and averted her gaze.
“You’ve never asked yourself that, have you?” When she shook her head, I continued. “There’s a reason you became a musician.”
“I’m good at it,” she said, her voice so low I barely heard her.
“And I’m sure you’re good at a bunch of other things, so why sing?” I took her hands in mine and gave them a squeeze, releasing a sigh of relief when she finally met my eyes.
“Because when you’re on stage, you can fly.” It was
something she’d said back at the cemetery. “Music runs through you. Sure, the fans are another side of it, but you need to trust them. Trust that they won’t turn their backs on you just because you show a bit of emotion. Music’s all about emotion, anyway. Let them in. Share your sense of loss with them.
Relate to them.”
“Like I did with you?” she asked with a small smile.
“Maybe not on a personal level, but yeah. You told me you started singing before your friend passed away. That’s your origin story and one I never would’ve known if you hadn’t accidentally dropped off her journals with me.”
“I don’t know…”
“You don’t need to tell them what happened,” I assured her,
“but if you open up a tiny bit and share where you came from, I’m sure the fans would love you for it.”
“I actually have something I’ve been working on,” she said, her voice shaking at the end. “It’s sad and rough around the edges, but… do you think I could test it on you? My manager will never get it, and I’ll probably never play it for anyone else, but, well…” She exhaled hard, then tried again. “I’d love for you to hear it.”
“I’d be honored.”
Cassidy’s music slowly made its way through the store, the new melody reminding me of some of her earlier work. With lunch still an hour away, my heart ached to join her, to hold her hand and be there for her. Instead, I dove into my work, fully focused on finishing up the inventory on time.
Her words, or at least the sound of them, reached straight down to my soul. The haunting yet beautiful melody gave me the same emotional outlet her music had offered so many times before. Diving into a good book didn’t come close to listening to her earlier work.
Now was no different.
Standing in front of the computer, I did my best to get the store in order, forcing back the tears that happened to burn at my eyes. The black text on the monitor blurred, the words
distorted as Cassidy’s music gently took me in its arms, embracing me. It was then I wondered how long it took for her to write the song about the friend she lost. How long did it take for her to sing it without missing a note?
I could only imagine how hard it must’ve been to play the song in front of a crowd while letting down her guard long enough to do so.
She swore the fans would never accept her new story, but she was wrong. Her earlier work was what made her famous.
It was also full of emotion and some of the most cathartic music I’d ever listened to.
If Bridget were around, she would’ve agreed.
The more time I spent around Cass, the more I wanted to let Bridget in on our secret. It’s not my place. Until Cassidy said otherwise, her identity along with her whereabouts were stuck with me.