Chapter Eleven
Sitting across from me on the floor with her legs crossed, Cassidy slowly picked through her lunch, talking as she did.
“If you could change one thing about the store, what would it be?” she asked, gesturing at the space between us.
Why? I wondered. What’s wrong with the shop?
Before I could form a response, she continued. “If I could go back to when I first got into music, I think I’d change how I interacted with my fans. It was fun and a total blast that first year, but then I sort of got overwhelmed. It makes it hard to go back to that.”
“Then why leave the shop the way you did today?” If the idea of being that open with her fans made her uncomfortable, why do it in the first place?
“Because you’re right. Music’s all about opening up and sharing the story behind it. I’ve let folks speculate the meaning behind my music for years, never correcting them because…
well, because Laura was my secret. In the beginning, I didn’t want to talk about her because it was too hard. It still is if I’m being completely honest with myself. But she’s my reason for getting into music in the first place. If it wasn’t for her—”
“You’d still sing,” I said, taking her hand in mine. “Maybe not on stage or in front of a crowd, but you’d still have your guitar and you’d still sing.”
“You sound so sure of yourself.”
“That’s because I am. Books are my thing. I might not write them, but I can’t imagine living my life without them. For you, I bet music’s the same way. The thing you need to remember is your why. What were you striving for in the beginning? Who did you sing for?”
“No one,” she said, dropping her gaze. “I sang for myself and for someone who couldn’t hear the words.” She shook her head at that. “I guess I sang because it made me feel closer to
her. When someone heard me for the first time and expressed their interest in it, I thought it would keep her memory alive.”
“And now?” I hedged, scooting over next to her when her words clipped at the end.
“I’ve played it so often, it’s lost all meaning.”
“Which is why you need to share it with them,” I explained, repeating what I’d said earlier. “It might not make that much of a difference for them, but it will for you. Somewhere down the line, you lost your identity. You might not see it, but after spending these last few weeks with you, it’s plain as day.
When you play in the tower, you’re free to be yourself. But when you’re out there…” I released a long breath and shook my head. “I don’t know because I’ve never seen you on tour, but seeing the way you talk about it, you don’t sound as happy about that as you’ve been up here.”
She nodded as I spoke. “It’s partially true. I don’t want to admit it but coming home to take care of my mom’s stuff was sort of a blessing. I love performing and will do almost anything for the fans, but I also needed a break.”
“Burn out,” I said, offering her a partial shrug. “Everyone goes through it.”
“Yeah, but a part of me feels like I’m not allowed to take time off, you know?”
“Are you kidding? Look at some the other singers out there.
Some of them haven’t had a new album in over a decade.
Their fans are still willing to wait for it. Your true fans will always be there, even if you need to step away for a little while.”
“Don’t tell my manager that,” she said with a nervous laugh. “He’d throw a fit.”
I didn’t doubt it. “It’s one thing to want to keep everyone else happy and something else entirely when you lose your love of music.”
“I still love it,” she argued, her shoulders bunching up as she did.
“But it could be better.”
That time, she didn’t say anything. As silence fell between us, I worried I’d done something wrong. It wouldn’t have been the first time I’d overstepped, but even as I considered what to say, Cass leaned her head on my shoulder and spoke.
“I’m not sure how to bring it up with him.”
“So don’t.” When she lifted her head to meet my gaze, I continued. “Let it be a surprise for everyone. When you get up on stage to play her song, tell your fans there’s something you need to say, something important. Once you do, go from there.