Page 68 of The Fate of Us

XO Noah

It was a short and simple note but it’s given me so much faith in us. Between the note and his endless barrage of texts and voicemails, I know that what we have is true. I know our love will win. But I need this time and space away from him. I need it to balance my life.

And a week without him has only proven that I need him. I need him so badly. He is my rock. My protector. My hero.

“Anna May Cooper, you’re up next,” says a man wearing all black and a headset.

I shake out my nerves letting go of my necklace and following the man into the back of the building and into a side door in the corner of the room.

The Nashville Songwriters Association didn’t want us to watch others perform until we did so we wouldn’t get nervous. Of course, this place doesn’t have much room to begin with. I don’t know if it helped at all because my whole body is tingling.

I watch the young singer ahead of me finish his performance. He is amazing. He is so young, barely twenty but he has a deep southern twang to his voice and he is easy on the eyes. He wants to be a star and I am sure he will get there one day. Most of the people accepted into the workshop want to be songwriters and musicians but there are a few who want to be the ones on stage singing the songs. They all have a one-up on other up-and-comers since they all have an amazing ability to write music.

I take a deep breath as everyone applauds for the last performer. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I shouldn’t check it. I should leave it alone but part of me hopes that it will be Noah. I don’t care what he has to say but just a few words from him would make me feel better. He stopped texting me two days ago and I worry what the reason may be.

Mason: Don’t fuck up.

I laugh as I read his text. It came at the perfect time. The nerves diminish a little as I laugh over his text. I told him earlier that today was the first showcase and he kept telling me not to forget the words to my song.

After today, we have smaller showcases every night depending on if we are invited to them. Artists and record executives will invite you based off tonight’s performance if they want to hear more of what we have to offer.

I put my phone in my pocket and am directed on to the stage. Rather than play guitar tonight, my usual choice, I am playing piano. Almost every other person here is playing guitar and I want to stand out.

I don’t let myself look at the audience as I walk onto the small stage. The lights are dim but you can still see everyone’s faces.

I take a seat at the piano and inhale deeply.

This is it.

This is my moment.

I adjust the microphone in front of me. “Hello, I am Anna May Cooper. This is a song I wrote this week called ‘Don’t Let Me Walk Away.’”

I had so many songs I could have sang tonight. I could have sung one of the three I brought with me to work on this past week. But instead I chose a new song. A song that came to me as I sat on the floor of the shower in my hotel crying over Noah Wednesday night.

It was the first song I took out of my notebook on Thursday when I went to the workshop. I worked with one other person on it. Not to find the lyrics but just to help with the melody. The mentors told me it was a risk singing the song. That I needed more time developing it. I needed to sing something more universal to catch more attention.

But I knew I needed to sing from my soul. Sing the song that I can feel all the way into the deepest part of my bones. A song I will never sell to anyone but know that it will get me the attention I need.

I take one more deep breath as I play the first few haunting chords of the song. I hum along to the melody, an off key crescendo to bring out the tension in the song.

I close my eyes and let myself sing the words pouring from my heart.

It was a cold December day when you found me

Like the nights I spent crying all alone

I never thought he would haunt me

But the ghosts were real and kept me in the cold

I spent seven years lost out in the wild

Finding the words to feed my soul

But all I came up with was dust and ash

The memories fighting for control

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