Page 11 of Giving Chase

But it does matter. It matters more than anything. "I'm sorry, Eliza," I say, the words feeling wholly inadequate. "I know it's not enough, but I am. I've wanted to tell you that for five years."

There's a long silence, filled only by the sound of our breathing. I find myself holding my breath, waiting.

Finally, she sighs. "I appreciate that, Chase. But it doesn't change anything. We have a job to do now, and we need to focus on that."

I want to argue, to tell her that it changes everything. That I'm not the same man I was five years ago, that I've grown, that I've never stopped thinking about her. That every song I've written since we met, even the ones no one's heard, are all about her. But I know Eliza. I know pushing her now will only make her retreat further.

"Okay," I say, swallowing my disappointment. "You're right. Let's talk about the ceremony."

As Eliza launches into a discussion about schedules and protocols, I listen with half an ear, my mind whirling. Her voice washes over me, bringing back a flood of memories: late-night strategy sessions, heated arguments over creative decisions, quiet moments of understanding when the world became too much.

She might want to keep things strictly professional, but I can't. Not when it comes to her. Not when there's still so much left unsaid between us.

The induction ceremony isn't just about celebrating our music. It's a second chance. A chance to make things right with Eliza, to show her the man I've become. And I'll be damned if I'm going to let it slip away.

As we wrap up the call, I find myself saying, "Eliza, wait."

"Yes?" Her voice is guarded, but I detect a hint of... something. Curiosity? Hope? Maybe I'm just projecting my own hope onto her. It wouldn’t be the first fucking time.

"I just wanted to say... I'm looking forward to seeing you. To working with you again." What I don't say: I've missed you. Every day. In ways I didn't even know were possible.

There's a pause, and when she speaks, her voice is softer than it's been the entire call. "I'm looking forward to it too, Chase. Goodnight."

The line goes dead, but I sit there for a long time, phone still pressed to my ear. Outside, the sun is setting, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold that Eliza would have loved. It's not much, but it's a start. A tiny crack in the wall she's built around herself. And I'm determined to find a way through, no matter how long it takes.

I stand, walking to my music room. My fingers itch to pick up a guitar, to channel these swirling emotions into song. Because some things are worth fighting for. And Eliza Kerr? She's always been worth everything.

As I start to play, a new melody forming under my fingers, I make a silent promise. This time, I won't let fear or cowardice hold me back. This time, I'll show Eliza the man I've become – the man she always saw in me.

This time, I'll get it right.

August 20, 2004

The rooftop bar of the Mondrian is a sea of beautiful people, all here to celebrate us. Incendiary Ink. The next big thing, if the music press is to be believed. Our debut album dropped last week, and it's already climbing the charts faster than anyone expected.

I should be on top of the world. Instead, I'm hiding in a corner, nursing a whiskey and searching the crowd for one face in particular.

Eliza.

She's been keeping her distance since that night in the studio, three months ago. That kiss...God, that kiss. It's been haunting my dreams, making my fingers itch to touch her again. But she's been all business since then – organizing interviews, negotiating deals, smoothing ruffled feathers when Will and Mark inevitably piss someone off. The easy camaraderie we had before, the lingering glances and "accidental" touches... that's all gone.

I get it. I do. What happened between us that night was a mistake. A beautiful, intoxicating mistake that I can't stop thinking about, but a mistake nonetheless. She made that clear the next day, all business-like efficiency as she laid out all the reasons why it couldn't happen again.

I agreed, of course. What else could I do? But that doesn't mean I've stopped wanting her. If anything, the enforced distance has only made my attraction stronger. Every time she walks into a room, it's like all the air gets sucked out. I find myself staring at the curve of her neck, the way her lips movewhen she talks, the subtle sway of her hips when she walks. It's driving me crazy.

"There you are!" Will's voice booms over the music. He slings an arm around my shoulders, clearly three sheets to the wind. "Dude, why are you hiding? This is our night!"

I paste on a smile. "Just taking it all in, man. It's surreal, you know?"

Will nods sagely, then his eyes light up. "Oh shit, there's that hottie from Rolling Stone. I'm gonna go see if she wants an... exclusive interview." He waggles his eyebrows suggestively before disappearing into the crowd.

I shake my head, chuckling. Same old Will. My amusement fades as I spot a flash of platinum blonde hair across the rooftop. Eliza. She's deep in conversation with some suit – probably from the label – but even from here, I can see the tension in her shoulders.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I'm moving through the crowd towards her. As I get closer, I catch snippets of their conversation.

"...need to get them back in the studio," the suit is saying. "Strike while the iron's hot. We can have another album out by spring."

Eliza's smile is polite, but I can see the steel in her eyes. "With all due respect, Mr. Daniels, I think that would be a mistake. The boys need to tour, build their fanbase, get some real-world experience under their belts. Rushing into a second album could-"

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