Page 30 of Take My Hand

The four of us are in total sync, and it brings a peace inside me that I find so very rare these days. Tipping my head back, eyes closed, I relish in the moment.

All of the times I took the stage for granted, getting to play music with my best friends for granted, and now as it’s coming to an end, I want to savor every moment. Get lost in it.

A tingling breaks out across my skin, bringing awareness back to my surroundings, and I know it’s her.

Throughout the pairs of eyes that bore into me, watching me in my element, putting on a performance for each of them, it’s hers that I feel the most.

I bow my head toward the pit in front of the stage, only having to scan for a moment before I spot the lens of her camera pointed in my direction. I shoot her a smirk through the hair that dangles in front of my eyes, allowing her to capture the moment we share.

For the rest of the performance, her lens follows me, and I perform each and every song for her.

12

CARTER

My back and neck ache, reminding me that I’ve been hunched over my computer for far too long. But I still have about a hundred photos to look through from the show the other day and then pick some out to edit to send over to the band. Their manager emailed me this morning that he wants a few to post on their band account today to help counteract an article that was released this morning, again speculating about an impending breakup.

But until they formally announce their breakup at the end of the summer, Arun wants to keep all the attention on their current shows.

So I’ve been planted at my desk all morning, working on getting a portfolio sent over to them once I got my internet back up and running.

That was an unexpected thorn in my side today. I woke up with no Wi-Fi. I had gotten my new router installed back when I moved in and was so proud of myself for figuring it out on my own. And it was working just fine until today.

So I had to dig back through the stack of papers I shoved in one of my drawers, find the internet company’s number, and call their customer service line to figure out what’s up. Turns out they had the wrong card on file and it declined, so when they didn’t receive payment, they turned off the service. It was an easy fix of giving them a new card, getting the billing sent through, and my internet was back up and running within the hour.

In the grand scheme of things, it was a small, simple issue. But after having someone take care of these little nuisances in my life up until this point and constantly being told to be grateful that he was there to take care of them for me because I couldn’t handle it on my own, it felt like a win for me to figure it out. To work up the confidence to call the company, speak with a representative, and solve it myself.

Just another little nugget for me to store away inside my brain whenever I doubt myself and a reminder that I am capable of standing on my own two feet.

It’s the little wins that add up and are further rebuilding my confidence.

I load the next memory card and scroll through the catalog, finding the first chunk of photos to all be of one band member in particular. It’s the second card that I’ve looked through this morning and noticed the disparity in shots I have of Walker, Nikolai, and Reid versus shots of Hayden.

I enlarge one in particular and my eyes zone in on the line of sweat that runs down the center of his chest, causing the thin fabric of his tank to cling to his skin. The shot is taken from a low angle, as I was in the pit for this particular one. It makes him look larger than life, like an entity onstage in front of a crowd of subjects clinging to his every movement.

His head is stooped low, black hair hanging in front of his eyes partially obscuring them. His focus is on his hands playing, fingers frozen in time as they strum the thick strings of his bass.

His favorite bass. At least I assume it is. It’s a red so dark it’s almost black, with a light shimmer to the finish that shines when the stage lights catch it just right. I’ve seen another one backstage at their shows before, that one a pearly white, waiting off to the side but I’ve never seen him play it.

I click to the next photo and gasp as Hayden’s eyes bore into my own, so vivid I forget that it’s a photo and not him actually here in front of me. His head is still bent low, but he’s tilted it just slightly enough to make eye contact with me. Or with my camera. His brown eyes hold a hint of mischief in them that only seems to come out when he’s onstage. A smirk lifts up the corner of his full, pink lips and I shift side to side in my chair at the sight. The sharp angles of his jaw photograph beautifully and my finger twitches with the desire to trace the contours of his face.

Damn, he’s sexy. I finally feel fine admitting that to myself. I’m sick of trying to deny it. Because I’ve spent a fair amount of time thinking about Hayden Coleman the past few weeks. The warmth of his hands as they grazed my own as he helped me put together some of this furniture, the softness in his eyes when we pass each other backstage at shows, the sparks that explode in my chest when I watch him perform through my camera lens.

I’m a single woman, and I shouldn’t feel guilty for finding another man attractive. Especially not one that looks like him.

But even more than just on a physical level, I find myself drawn to his presence. He has a calm aura about him, like the ocean after a storm passes through. I’ve spent too many years of my life always on edge, walking on eggshells and constantly worrying about saying one wrong thing that leads to another fight.

But when I’m around Hayden, it’s like some part of me knows that I’m safe. And as I watch him perform, I can see that peacefulness shine through. He’s not a showman like Nikolai and Walker, and not as intense as Reid.

He’s the steady, collected beat supporting them all.

My phone buzzes next to me, drawing my attention away from my perusal. But when I see whose name is lighting up my phone, my face grows hot.

Hayden: Can I ask you a random question?

Hayden: Also hi btw

Me: Sure what’s up?

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