“Or you could deal with your damned emotions like everyone else.” He holds up a finger, telling me not tomove.
I exhale hard as he goes to my room, comes back with the guitar Annie bought me. Twenty-four frets. Rosewood. Made to fit in myhands.
I take the neck in my hands, turn itover.
It’s mine. Today, maybe it’s the only thing thatis.
I carry the guitar to the kitchen table and drop onto my seat. I don’t know what I want to play, but my fingers do until one song slips into thenext.
In the spotlight, we need to bleed. We need to bebroken.
Eventually, the emotions rise to the surface, one chasing the next until I’m bent over theguitar.
I’m playing and singing and who the hell knows what else, but I’m pouring all of me out, everything I can’tcontain.
When I lift my head, I see Beck’s intent expression trained on me, along with the camera of hisphone.
I don’tcare.
I do the only thing Ican.
I play until my fingers areraw.
19
“So,then he moons the cops and runs ten blocks with his pants around his knees,” Pen says, clanking her glass on the side table in the dressing room foremphasis.
“And this guy’s running for treasurer?” Ireply.
“Apparently.”
We’re backstage after Finn’s second show in LA. The past two days have been nuts between rehearsals and soundchecks and hanging out with myfriend.
It feels strange not doing my own material after all my work for theshowcase.
But I’m working—as a singer. Finn’s people not only paid for the hotel—I’m actually gettingcompensated.
“Annie! That’s Annie Jamieson. Jax Jamieson’s kid.” I turn to see the guys bent over the coffee table, and Finn waves meover.
“You must’ve grown up backstage,” one of the guys drawls. “Bet you have some greatstories.”
I cross to them, the cowboy boots I changed into after the show clacking on the hard floor. “Honestly, I was a kid the last time he toured. And the best stories I have of him arepersonal.”
I haven’t talked to my dad since coming to LA. Haley called me last night, but it was a short conversation. I can tell she’s disappointed, which hurts too, but she said she’d work on him as far as tuition. Clearly, she doesn’t agree with his position, but I don’t see her going behind his back unless I really needsomething.
“We’ll take personal stories,” Finn says with a grin, slinging an arm over the back of thecouch.
My dad’s name is currency here. It gives me renewed appreciation for the way Tyler was always chill aboutit.
More than that, he lied forme.
I shove the thoughtaway.
“You know what?” I ask. “You should be remembering nights like tonight instead of asking for old stories. Someday you won’t be asking me about him. You’ll be asking him aboutme.” I arch a brow, and a round of hollers goesup.
I cut a look back at Pen, and she nods. “We’re gonna get out of here. Thanks for the gig,” I tell Finn, starting for thedoor.
Pen goes to grab her things while Finn follows me toward the hall. “Don’t take it personally. Someday you’ll have stories. Until then, the sexiest thing about you ishim.”