Page 17 of Perfectly Wrong

“Absolutely.” I was trembling with anger—furious at the sleazy guy who thought he had a shot with me, and equally frustrated with Sam for risking getting caught. I just wanted to strangle one of them, maybe both. “And you know what I think, Marco? This is a good sign. When our artists step outside their bubble, it always translates into incredible music. I’m sure Martin will deliver some masterpieces. So, how about we let him get back to his creative immersion?”

“And that’s why we love this girl and will never let her leave our team.” Marco smiled at me warmly. We’d always had a good relationship, and he’d often praised my work, regardless of the situation. He was much older and had a kind of fatherly affection for me. It was sweet and a little awkward at the same time. But he was a good guy. “Enjoy your time in Japan, Sam! See you back in Canada!”

We said our goodbyes, and I returned to my seat at the table.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Rento asked as soon as I sat down.

“Who, Sam?” He nodded. “Of course not! He’s a client of Icon Records and just a friend.”

“You hugged him.” Was the marketing specialist for the Japanese band... jealous? “You’ve never hugged me.”

“And I’m not going to,” I snapped. It was harsh, but he didn’t seem to get it. When his hand moved closer to my leg, I tipped my champagne glass just right, causing the pink liquid to spill straight into his lap. “Oh my God, Rento! I’m so sorry. Jesus, I’m so clumsy! I’m really sorry!”

After the chaotic scene of cleaning up the mess, the Japanese team decided it was time to get back to work. Well, for them. I was on my way back to the hotel, ready to commit a murder.

From the moment I left the restaurant until I reached the Keio Plaza, I managed to calm down a bit. Maybe I wouldn’t kill Sam after all, but he was definitely going to get a lecture.

I saw him as soon as I opened the door. He was sitting on the bed, legs crossed, wearing oversized headphones. The grin on his face told me he had something to share. “Can you hold off on murdering me for a minute?” Sam asked, looking anxious. “I’ve got something to show you.”

I tossed my bag onto our suitcases and sat down across from him. “What is it?”

He handed me the headphones, and I noticed they were plugged into his phone.

“The days you were here before I arrived, I went to the studio with the band. We recorded a song I wrote a while back, and the producer just sent it over. I know you’re on the marketing side, but since you know my music, I wanted you to hear it and tell me what you think.”

Hmm, that actually was good news. I smiled and squeezed his knee. I put on the headphones, adjusting them over my ears, and Sam hit play.

His voice sounded different—stronger, more self-assured. The melody was powerful, and the lyrics were raw and heartbreaking. He sang about anxiety, depression, and feeling overwhelmed to the point of wanting to give up. I looked over at him; he was biting his lower lip, clearly struggling to keep his, no surprise, anxiety in check.

In the song, he asked for help, spoke about feeling suffocated, and how people didn’t understand. They thought all he needed was a drink or a girl, as if his struggles were easy to solve. I found myself getting lost in the melody, remembering my own battles over the years. He was right—no medication could erase memories. I still had nightmares, and there were things I hadn’t moved past. It was almost too much, and I wanted to ask him to stop the song.

The high notes filled the headphones, and I closed my eyes. The song was so intense, full of emotion and truth, that I wondered if it was based on his real experiences. Had he really gone through all of that?

But he was also right in the song—it wasn’t his style to give up, no matter how overwhelming things felt. That’s why he asked for help.

When the final notes played, I felt drained. The song was so heavy, it seemed to sap my energy. I had tears in my eyes, and Sam looked worried. “Are you okay?” he asked.

I took off the headphones and handed them back to him. “Sam, this song is... deep.” I struggled to find the right word. “It’s beautiful, and it’s real. Did you really feel what you sang?”

Now I was the one who was worried. He had started his career so young, and the media could mess with anyone’s head.

“Sometimes, yeah.” He sighed. “Did you really like it?”

“Of course!” I was confused by his uncertainty. “I mean, I loved it and hated it at the same time. It’s an incredible song, but it deals with a really delicate subject. It could help a lot of people. Do you realize that?”

He looked unsure. “I don’t know. I’ve listened to it a few times, and while the melody is good, I can’t tell if I did a good job. Maybe we should just scrap it.”

“What?” For the first time, I saw him as more than the playful kid or the amazing lover. He was vulnerable, his insecurities filling the room. I knelt in front of him, cupping his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “If there’s something you’re not happy with, that’s fine. We can change it. But it’s a beautiful song, with incredible lyrics, and I’m not going to let you dismiss it.”

Sam gave me a shy smile, and I kissed him. For the first time, I wanted to shield him from the world.

“Can I listen to it again?” I asked, our lips still close. Sam handed me the headphones, and I settled into his lap. He wrapped his arms around me, and with my head resting on his chest, I closed my eyes and let the music take over.

It felt so good to be with him, even though I knew it was dangerous, considering what I had in mind for my future. Looking back, I couldn’t even remember why I kept pushing Sam away. I’d been angry, shocked, and had scolded him more than once, but I always ended up in his arms. The question was: why?

I didn’t love him; I knew that much. Maybe if our fling continued for too long, I could develop some sort of feelings. But for now, he was just someone I enjoyed spending time with. And, let’s be honest, the sex was amazing. It was funny, really—we barely knew each other. We hadn’t had any deep conversations. We spent time together, had sex a few times, and that was it. No profound talks that could change our lives. The song ended for the third time, and I took off the headphones.

“I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but we might have a single on our hands.” I smiled and kissed him softly. “Good boy!”

---