Page 152 of Down Beat

FIFTY-FOUR

Tabitha

“Angel” – Theory of a Deadman

“Best hangover cure ever,” Kendall mumbles around her bowl of Fruit Loops. “How did you go?”

I cradle my second mug of coffee for the day, unable to sleep, yet also failing to find motivation to do anything with my early start.

“I didn’t send him a message.” I know that’s all she wants to hear about.

“Why the fuck not?” She swipes the milk on her bottom lip away with the back of her hand. “What stopped you?”

“This.” I set my palm over my heart. “I love him for doing this for me, babe, but it changes nothing.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Positive.”

I spent the night lost in the internet black hole, looking up every scrap of information I resisted the past three months.

He relapsed. He crashed and burned, performing the last show of the tour so drunk that he forgot the lyrics to one of the songs. And even though the reports tell me he went to rehab like instructed, nothing indicates that his fire doesn’t still smolder beneath the calm surface.

“Maybe in time,” Kendall offers as she lifts her bowl to drink the leftover milk.

“Yeah. Maybe.” I drag my phone over and tap through to check my emails.

Perhaps there was a reason why I held strong, after all? “Wow.”

“What now?” Kendall asks, setting her empty bowl in the sink.

“I got an email from that agent I signed on with last month.”

“And?”

“They’ve got me an audition for the philharmonic.” Is this fate telling me to stick to the plan, to keep working on myself?

“You don’t seem hugely excited by it.”

I glance at Kendall as she leans her elbows on the counter beside me. “It wasn’t really what I wanted.”

“But it’s good, right?”

“If I can get a spot, then it’s steady income. Not great, but steady.”

“So?”

“So, it’s not the solo career I dreamed about.” It’s not the fantasy of working on an edgy modern mix that’ll set me apart and make me successful.

She twists her lips, shoulders heaving with a sigh. “I guess you have to ask yourself what lengths you’re willing to go to, to get exactly what you want.”

Moreover, if I could live with settling for something less.

“Go to the audition,” Kendall suggests. “It can’t hurt to see what happens.”

“I guess not.” Although the thought of becoming one of many, seated for the same shows over and over, already has me dying on the inside.

I’m not selfish; I just know what lit my fire. And it was that independence to play what I wanted, what I felt best suited the audience I had. It was being able to move around the stage as I played, lost to the piece. It was the freedom to express myself in a way that is true to who I am.

---