DEVLIN
If people had thought I’d go around moping or pitying myself they were damned wrong. I left the auditorium after the Fourth of July concert, I went home, and I continued on with my life as a composer. Cut my losses and moved on. I didn’t need the SOOK. I certainly wasn’t about to go crawling back to them. I didn’t need Kim. She’d chosen Chagny.
I was fine.
But …
Being home, seeing all the places I’d shared with her … I couldn’t always muster the anger. I remembered everything about her; the gut-cramping laughter when she’d scared the crap out of me and then laughed at me for my perfectly legitimate response. In the bathroom, the way her eyes had burned with lust when she found me naked. I remembered her devotion to the music, to me, and I couldn’t think anymore. Nights were the worst. I didn’t sleep. I smelled her, tasted her, felt her, longed for her as though she was still a possibility. I thought of all the times she’d been so close and I didn’t just tell her my feelings. I should have held her more. I should have put it all out there. It was like feeling deathbed-sick and cursing myself for all the times I took my health for granted.
No matter how I lied to myself, her absence was a physical, constant ache.
No texts. No calls.
No notes.
I was lonely. The further from that last night I got, the more ashamed I grew. I hadn’t handled things very well. My shame kept me in solitude. It took almost two months until Wes managed to guilt me into another family dinner.
“We know you aren’t working. It’s all over the news that you were fired again. We’re all coming over tonight. Make sure you’re dressed.”
They arrived at their usual time. Rose and Ellie wore matching Wonder Woman dresses and hugged each of my legs.
“Uncle Erik!”
“Daddy said that we could watch your fancy TV and eat on the couch,” Rose said looking up from where she gripped me.
I took three-wide legged steps with them attached like barnacles, as they screamed in delight. “Oh, he did? Well, that’s fine, but you tell Daddy he can replace the couches if anything happens to them.”
They laughed and ran into the kitchen, and when they passed again on the way to the TV room, their arms were laden with snacks. Wes passed with Kelly. I hugged her and flicked his ear.
“Ouch,” he winced.
“Oh, Erik, you’re too skinny,” Kelly said squeezing my waist.
My mom hugged me next. “I’m watching you tonight. You’re eating two helpings.”
“Okay, Ma.”
Dad hugged me with a hearty back slap. “You were too good for that place anyway. They didn’t know what they had in you.”
“Right,” I said. “I wasn’t fired. I quit,” I said but they all looked at me with faces of pity that said they weren’t buying it for a second.
“About that.” Ma shot glances at the rest of my family.
“Care to explain this?” Wes handed me his phone with an article pulled up.
“The Devil of the Symphony walks again …” I shoved the phone back at him after reading.
“What is this? You told us you were fired. This article says you quit the last three places,” Ma said. “I don’t understand.”
I shook my head. Cold dread weighted down my shoulders. I didn’t want them to find out the truth this way.
“Let’s forget it and just eat.”
My mom and dad had picked up pizza and salad from a place in town on their way up the mountain. Conversation was polite enough, but it wasn’t long before my mom spoke her mind.
“Ellie, can you go take Rose to watch TV?” Ma asked.
My older niece grinned. “Sure, Grammy.”
The little girls giggled and ran out of the room and I waited for her to lay into me.
“Mom, what is it?” I asked. Her heavy stares had been boring into the side of my face in a way that only moms knew how to do.
“Why have you been telling us you were fired? Why did you let everybody spread those rumors about you?”
“It’s complicated.” I pushed away the half-eaten slice. “They didn’t understand me. Once they found out I was Erik Jones, that’s all they cared about. They asked me to play the song at performances for the symphony.”
“So, play the song,” Wes said. “What’s the big deal?”
“It’s not theirs.” I slammed my fist down. Wes’s eyebrows shot up. “And I’m tired of that being all people care about. All the work I’ve done kept getting pushed to the back burner.”
“You quit to prove a point?” Wes asked.
I lowered my voice. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”
Wes raised his eyebrows like I was crazy. He looked to Ma for support and she shook her head as though to tell him to stop. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” But she held something back. “Where will you go?”
“Ma, you know I can’t stay here. Not now. I was only supposed to be here for the season anyway.”
Wes and Kelly exchanged a look. The same look my parents gave each other.
“It’s just such a shame when you leave this big house empty while you’re gone,” Ma said.
“We will move in,” Wes jumped in.
“I just don’t understand what happened. We’ve seen what the news said. But we know there has to be more to it than that,” Dad said.
“Not really. I have a temper. I punched Roderick Chagny in his rat-face and I was fired. Well, I quit before that. Technically.” More or less.
“Is this because of Kim?” Dad asked. “I was hoping she might still come around. I watched that documentary she suggested.”
“Kim is gone. She’s on tour with Chagny,” I said.
“She’s doing really well. I follow her on Instagram,” Kelly added. “I never got to meet her, but she seems … lovely.”
“That’s not her. That’s a doll being dressed up to get downloads. That’s Christine Day.”
The table went silent as I brooded.
“I’m sorry. You seem very upset about her being gone,” Ma said.
“I’m fine. She’s the one that left. She chose that guy who is clearly using her. It’s the life she picked.”
Wes sat back and sighed. “You can’t put it all on her, man.”
“What?” I glared at him.
Ma flicked a glance to me. Dad and Kelly stayed quiet.
“You’re playing the victim in all this,” Wes continued.
“I am not. I just don’t care.”
“You clearly do.”
I might as well put it all out there. Everybody else was going to take Chagny and Kim’s side in all this. I wanted somebody on my side.
“I gave her a choice. She chose him. She walked away after committing to me—to the solo.”
“You gave her a choice?” my mom asked. “How? What does that mean?”
I explained about the notes. About how close we’d grown. About how that asshole had pretended they were his. How I punched him, and how he’d fully deserved it.
“She could never make a choice. Never. She wanted somebody like him to take all that pressure off her shoulders,” I finished.
“So,” Dad started. “Knowing that she finds decision making difficult, you put her on the spot with Chagny. The man who she’s spent her whole life thinking was the author of those notes. Then made her choose, and risk hurting somebody no matter what? All the while not telling her the truth.”
I blinked. Well, when he put it that way, of course it sounded bad.
“She had no qualms about hurting me. She chose him. I was only ever the fun-time guy before Chagny.” My fork flew as I slammed the table with my fist. “And come on, she should have known about the notes. Chagny? Really?”
“Do you honestly believe that?” Ma pushed her plate back too and crossed her arms. “Because we all met her and don’t believe for a second that she uses people. And were you two close back at camp? If she didn’t know the notes were from you, then how would she have ever guessed you’d sent them? Especially if he’d claimed to be writing them. Why would she doubt that?”
I frowned at the table, scratching my beard. “She asked me to give her a reason to stay. She asked me to tell her that I would choose her long term.”
Three blank faces glared back at me. I wished I hadn’t said that last part out loud. Out of context it sounded bad on me.
I pressed on, trying to explain my point of view. “But that was her making me do the work again, don’t you see? I needed her to decide. I wouldn’t force her hand only to face her resentment as the years went on.”
My dad at least nodded once as though he could see my point of view.
“Yeah, but what did you do?” Wes asked. He drained his bottle of beer and set it back down loudly before going on. “Did you tell her how you felt? Did you explain that you sent the notes and Chagny is a lying bastard? Did you fight for her even a little?”
“Language,” Ma scolded.
“Why should I?” I asked. I sounded petulant. Dammit.
“Because that is what you do when you love someone,” Wes said with vehemence I’d never seen in him. “You don’t just give up before it begins. I’m really starting to see a pattern with you now. This quitting. Your talent, as always, comes so easily. You work so hard, but you quit before you can ever fail.”
Kelly grabbed her husband’s hand and made a face. “What you and Wes have told me about Kim, she has had some trouble in her past right? Well, Kim is chasing her life now. She is trying to do the best thing for her. She has made bad choices before. Maybe she’s just trying to do the smart thing now. For her. He offered her everything she wanted.”
“She doesn’t want any of it,” I spat. “She only thinks she does.”
“Yeah, there you go. Deciding what she wants,” Ma said. “She thinks that’s what she wants. Love is about wanting what the other person wants and trying to make it happen for them. Supporting their dreams. And Chagny tells her all the right things. I’m not saying I like him, but he lays it out for her. He makes it an obvious choice. You just said that Kim struggles with making the right choices.”
“Yeah.”
“She’s trying to be smart.” Wes slammed his fist on the table. “You’re broody and moody. You run around the world leaving any time things get hard. She doesn’t know where she stands with you. Did you talk about any sort of life outside her playing? About what her performance means to you? Chagny says, hey, I’ll do everything for you.”
“He won’t challenge her.”
“No. He won’t and that’s exactly why she picked him. But you have to make it clear to her that you are worth the fear and the uncertainty. You’re the real deal,” Wes said. Kelly reached out and grabbed his hand to squeeze it.
“What do I have to offer her?” My question came out low and pathetic.
The whole table groaned.
“What?” I asked.
“Don’t make me say it, man. Tell me you aren’t that dumb,” Wes shook his head.
“What?”
“Would you ever let anything harm her?” Ma asked.
“Will you ever stop wanting her? Caring for her?” Dad asked.
“Will you always want to talk to her? Hear from her? Do you want her to be that person that knows all the little things about you? And have her be the one that knows everything about you?” Kelly asked.
Wes said, “Is she the one who can make you laugh and hold your hand? That will push you in return? Will you always put her first? Make her dreams, your dreams?”
My throat tightened. I felt queasy. “Yes,” I rasped.
“Well that’s love, man. That’s what you offer her. Real Love. Capital R, capital L. Chagny talks the talk but the second Kim doesn’t make him money anymore …” Wes shrugged.
“Chagny doesn’t love her.” Kelly gestured to her phone. “Not if these costumes and performances are for him and not her. She looks miserable in those pictures. She’s trying, but her eyes are dead.”
“It sounds to me like Kim made the best decision she could in that moment. That’s all you can expect from people,” Dad said.
“Well, she needs to do better.” I sounded like an asshole, even to my own ears.
“Gosh, you’ve always held people to such a high standard.” My mom turned to Dad. “Is that because of something we did? Did we put pressure on him?”
“No. That was stardom. It fucked with his head.”
“Wesley.”
“Sorry, Ma. But it did. He sets unrealistic expectations for people. Meanwhile he won’t take off that fricking mask and just hides.”
“I’m right here,” I said. “And she could change. If she really wanted to.”
Wes rolled his eyes. “Oh sure, because it’s that easy. Step one: be better. Step two: happiness.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Okay. So then take off your mask. Not just here with us. Out in the world. Own your past and who you are.”
“That is not the same,” I growled.
“No? Okay, well, I thought you wanted to be better.”
“Again. Not the same.”
“It’s something from your past making you cling to an idea that you won’t let go of.”
“When did you become a philosopher?”
“Wes is just trying to say people are a complicated set of rules based on their pasts. Kim can’t suddenly make a rational decision under pressure any more than you can walk into a room as Erik Jones and feel like a competent composer,” Kelly said.
“I know how people will react. I’ve seen how they are.”
“And she hasn’t? Kim was treated like a pariah. She’s Jethro Winston’s ex that went missing. She ruined her whole future because she was a kid that made a dumb choice. ‘The girl that hung out with a motorcycle gang and ended up in rehab,’” Dad said.
“You were a kid when you were thrust into fame. We shouldn’t have let you go.” Ma shook her head.
“You couldn’t have stopped me Ma, I was eighteen. That’s not on you.” I looked down and brushed my knuckles across the table. “I just wanted to be enough for her to stay.”
“You are enough. She just didn’t have all the facts,” she said. “And here’s the real kicker—it isn’t about if she loves you. It’s about if you love her, and what that love means to you.”
This wasn’t about whether or not she loved me. That was an excuse that I’d used to keep myself hidden from her. To push her away. God, it seemed so obvious after talking to my family. Of course they knew me better than anybody else. I thought they didn’t understand me, that they couldn’t handle me if they knew I’d been quitting. I’d been quitting because I was afraid of things when they got too hard.
That would all change.
It wasn’t about whether or not she loved me for me. It was about what my love for her meant. I’d been egotistical. I’d been proud. I’d locked love down inside me for so long that I had lost what it meant.
My loving her was what mattered. Her needs, wants, desires—those were what mattered. Those were the priority. Whether or not she loved me didn’t matter as much as how I loved her. But only if she knew. To think that she might have thought, even for a minute, that it was about the music and my career and not her … I’d been such a fool. But not anymore.
After my family left, I replayed everything they’d said. When I truly replayed the last time we’d spoken from her point of view …
I felt sick.
She needed to know all the facts. They were right. She needed to know I’d sent the letters. She couldn’t read minds.
I needed to tell her everything, and what better way than a letter?
I took out a piece of paper and a pen.
Dear Kim,
First of all, I’ve been a fool.
I’ve never been able to say words the way I’ve wanted to, which was why I wrote you all those notes so long ago. Here’s the truth: you asked me why I chose you. And I never answered. I had convinced myself the lessons with you were about proving I could stick to something. I told myself that if I had someone from my past who could help me hold it together, I would make it through. I wouldn’t quit. But that was me lying to myself. It was a poor excuse to spend time with someone I love. I love you.
I think I’ve loved you since I was seventeen and I first saw you at summer camp. My feelings felt too big back then. I needed time to grow into them. The notes were my immature way of getting you to notice me. You had Chagny. But I noticed you. I will never forget the first time I heard you play. You gave me chills. Your playing inspired me like no one else ever has. I’ve never stopped thinking about it.
Can’t Look Back was for you too. About you. It’s always been about you. I’ve wasted so much time not telling you everything. I have so many regrets. But not anymore.
Here’s another truth. I came back to Green Valley to prove that I could commit to something. I came back to re-center and see my family. And then I saw you at the first rehearsal. You didn’t recognize me. Why would you? But I knew it was you, name change or no. Whenever you play, you take my breath away. You tried to hide yourself, but I saw through it. You were still the most beautiful and talented woman I’d ever seen.
I’m tired of being alone and pretending like that’s what I want. I pushed you and everyone else away because I couldn’t chance not having you feel the same way back. I understand now that isn’t how love works. I understand so much now that you’re gone, and I can’t see you smile and laugh every day. I miss just talking to you, catching up. All the little things.
I love you. I want everything for you. Please make sure that toolbag—sorry, Chagny—is taking care of you. All I want is for you to be happy.
Anyway. I’m sorry I pushed you away because I felt too much. I’ve been letting my past ruin my future. But I’m done. I’m no longer a prisoner to my life.
You’ve inspired that in me.
You made everything better. The months we played together are some of my best memories.
I love you. I always have.
I think I already said that. Anyway, I do. It’s okay if you don’t love me back. Well, it’s not okay. I feel like I can’t take a full breath thinking about it. But I get it. I did such a stupid thing. I’m sorry for that night. Not for punching Chagny; I’d probably do that again. But I am sorry I hurt you. So sorry. I only ever want to make you feel good. God, I’ve wasted so much time.
Like I said, not anymore.
I’m done.
I hope this letter finds you happy. I hope you are living the life you want to live. I hope you are spreading that light inside you now. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.
Yours always,
Erik
I shoved the letter in an envelope and sealed it before I could change my mind. I’d send it to her house; her parents would ensure she got it. Writing it was crucial. My handwriting would prove my words.
Now for the part I dreaded. As the phone rang, regret had my anger boiling. But I didn’t want to indulge my anger; I was ready for apologies.
“Hello?” the voice answered.
“Andrew, it’s Devlin. I have a proposition for you.”