Page 4 of Busted Dreams

“Pretty girl, I’ve been playing at the Iron Horse for years. If I was going to blow up, I would have by now. I really just enjoy playing. I don’t need the fame or anything that comes with the territory.” I shrugged.

Reaching across the table, she rested her hand over mine. “It’s not about needing it. It’s about sharing your music with the world. You’re too talented to quietly slip through life unnoticed.”

My breath caught in my throat, and my heart stuttered in my chest.

“Beck, the world isn’t quite as beautiful as it could be if you aren’t sharing your art.”

“You believe that?” I croaked.

Her gaze snared mine, and all I could do was fall into the depths of her beautiful blue eyes.

“I know it,” she said with conviction.

Unable to hold her gaze any longer, I dropped mine to the table. How did our date take this turn? This was supposed to be about getting to know her as a couple. Learning little things only I would know.

Instead, she was building an unwanted hope in the pit of my stomach, making me believe my passion was more important than it was. And I loved her for it. Even if she was the only one who thought that.

I sat back when the waiter took our order and dropped off steaming bread with homemade butter. But the reprieve from our uncomfortable conversation was short lived.

“I think you should make a TikTok account.” She just dropped her idea on the table like it was something she’d mentioned a hundred times before.

“A TikTok?” I drawled.

“I’ve been doing research, looking at the best way to get you noticed. All the recent musicians who have gone viral have been from this app. I’ll manage it for you. There seems to even be an art to the type of videos you’d need to post. Some have to be about your voice, some have to be about you as a person so you’re relatable, and some have to showcase how desirable you are.” A sneaky grin slid over her face, and this time, it was my turn for my face to heat.

I was twenty years old. How the hell was this embarrassing me? Maybe it was because I was imagining all the corny videos Astrid would try to record while making me smolder or some shit like that.

She laughed. “Don’t look so grim! I got this. You just need to do what I tell you to, when I tell you to.” Nodding, the decision was apparently out of my hands. But Angel’s words floated through my head. Astrid really wasn’t a girl who would be comfortable in the limelight, even as a girlfriend. And as crazy as it sounded, keeping her in my life seemed much more important than making it big. Not like I’d ever really thought it would happen anyway.

Honestly? I still didn’t.

“Okay… But I have a stipulation to this deal.” She arched a brow like she never expected I’d actually go along with it. “We’ll do this, if you go on this ride with me. Let’s say something does come of this. No matter what, you’ll always accompany me to my shows. You’re the only photographer I trust to take the best shots.”

“Is this a deal breaker?” She laughed.

“Hell yeah. Why go through all this trouble if you’re not there? And look at this way. Hypothetically, if I made it big and you were the photographer, you’d catch a break from this too. Who knows, you could be the photographer to the stars?” I shrugged. Actually, I could see Astrid in high demand of all the celebrities with the way she brought emotion to life in her pictures.

She mirrored my shrug and picked up a knife to butter her roll. “I’d follow you anywhere. That’s not even a question. But taking pictures for other people for money, that doesn’t sit well with me. The more I think about it, the more I think I’m destined to be a starving artist.” She huffed good-naturedly under her breath.

Shaking my head, I grabbed her hand. This girl just didn’t see her worth the way I could.

The server came and dropped off our food, forcing us to sit back, away from the cozy atmosphere we had going on.

Once the server left, movement by the front door caught my attention. A girl about my age chatted up the hostess, but they were too far away for me to even hear an inkling of what they were saying. Something about the girl seemed very familiar though.

She glanced right at me, as if she knew I was sitting here all along.

And knew exactly who I was.

The smell of the mushroom ravioli wafted from the sleek white dinner plate, making my mouth water. Closing my eyes, I inhaled and savored this perfect moment. A squeal nearly escaped as I tamped down my excitement.

My first date. My first real date with a devilishly handsome musician who liked me back.

When I opened my eyes though, Beck was a thousand miles away as he stared off at something that seemed to bother him. Turning around in my seat, I glanced around the mostly full dining room of small, quant tables. Although it did take some maneuvering on my part with the way our table sat in the corner.

It was so romantic in this spot, I was half-convinced Beck had planned it this way.

The patrons tonight were mostly older couples, maybe in their late twenties, or well-established thirties. Beck and I probably stood out as the babies of the bunch. But no one seemed to pay us any attention. Servers dressed head to toe in black dashed around the room in controlled movements. It was the craziest thing. They were speeding around in such a way that didn’t disturb the elegant ambiance of the restaurant.

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