Page 135 of Over the Edge

TheGet Out of My Headpodcast studio is designed to be comfortable and allow guests to unwind. Clement and Walt share one of the blue mid-century modern couches while I share the other with Garrett. A custom green neon sign in the shape of the show’s logo is mounted on the wall over the hosts.

“I feel like I’m ready for a very long nap. I think I might start experimenting with hibernation,” I say as I stretch my arms over my head so I can loop one around Garrett as he sits beside me.

“So, you’re not jumping into your next album?” Walt asks a new version of the same question they’ve asked three times already, but I don’t mind all that much.

“Stop Falling”peaked at number one on the charts for six weeks and has remained on theHot 100since it was released eight months ago. I know some of the success was due to me unveiling myself as Lyla West. I’m already talking to Vincent about using my real name for whatever comes next. I love Lyla, she’s been a part of me for so long that it was hard to accept I needed to say goodbye. She gave me so much, but I have to do this as myself.

“There are few things in the works, but it’s time to trade places in the spotlight,” I say, looking at Garrett.

His first solo album is set to be announced at the end of the week. We’ve been writing together whenever we feel like it, which is nearly every day. Writing isn’t the same as it was, it’s more. The shift isn’t only due to Garrett, though, it’s great to be able to work with someone who is able to complete my thoughts before I finish them and push me further than I thought possible.

Being able to connect with my fans and the people who listen to my music has added so much to my life. Sure, there are plenty of people still criticizing the way I went about starting my career. As I feared, journalists and bloggers picked apart my connections, looking at my relationships with Fool’s Gambit and Avery. At the same time, there have been just as many people coming to my defense saying that as Lyla I proved my talent without leaning on the people in my life publicly. There will always be that push and pull, but having Garrett, my family, and my friends to talk about it more openly than I used to makes it manageable. We’re still working through maintaining healthy lines of communication. It’s been an active effort to not keep things to myself, but that also means I get to share my wins with them too.

“Speaking of which, Garrett, how are you adjusting back into the industry after your time away?” Walt asks.

Garrett shifts next to me. I smile every time I look at him. I do in general, but yesterday I finally won a chess game and today I’m reaping the reward. He’s wearing a shirt that saysI heart my girlfriend, with the heart drawn out. It matches my shirt that saysGirlfriend. There’s a video recording of the podcast that will be released and I’m not above reminding everyone we're together.

“It’s nice to not feel pressured to wear skinny jeans anymore,” he says dryly. “Being back has been good, in general. Part of the reason I held off on it was because I thought I’d be doing it alone, instead of with bandmates. Obviously, I’m not alone in it.” His eyes jump to mine and hold before returning to the hosts.

“What is it like working together?” Clement takes his turn with this question. “From a listener’s perspective, there was this new energy to it all that we got to experience. Give us some insight into behind the scenes. Do you both always agree on creative directions and artistic choices?”

“Always agreeing on things would be so boring,” I tell them. “If we always agreed we would never have ended up here in the first place. The first time we ever went out as a couple we went to this berry farm, Barlowe Berry Farm in the Hudson Valley. Really, if you have the chance you have to visit, you should. The owners told us something that’s stuck with me: we don’t compromise, we collaborate. We both know what we’re doing with music, and we communicate the best we can to elevate what we already know.”

“That, and I like giving her what she wants,” Garrett says.

“That too.” I look up at him and when his eyes meet mine it feels like there’s no one else in the room.

The interview lasts for another hour between the rest of their questions and a friendly chat after. We would have stayed longer because I got sucked into the conversation as I tend to do, but Garrett reminded me we would be running late.

“I really am looking forward to seeing you in a wig,” I tell him as I slide into the passenger seat of my SUV. His truck is at Fletcher’s garage, needing a new round of repairs. It will probably last a few more months, so I’ve been looking for another of the exact make and model but less wear for sale.

“Is there any way you’ll forget in the two hours it takes us to get there.”

“Absolutely not, I’ve been holding on to this dream for a year. It’s the only reason I’ve stayed with you.” I act aghast, holding my hand to my mouth in exaggerated horror.

“If I hold off then I get to keep you longer?”

“You get to keep me anyway.” I reach over and squeeze his thigh. Before I pull my hand away he catches it and keeps it there. “And you get to see me in a wig, too.”

We won’t be performing this year at the festival, but we want to next year if we can make the proper preparations for security and ensure it won’t disrupt the festival itself. Instead, we’ll be attending with the help of cheap disguises, Garrett already has his and I ordered myself a blonde wig and massive sunglasses for mine. Since we didn’t get to experience it fully last year, I’ve been thinking about our trip back to Hartsfall nonstop for the last few weeks. Garrett has been able to go back to visit and help with his usual assortment of odd jobs. I had planned on joining him for Christmas, but my flight got canceled.

We talk and listen to music for the rest of the drive until we pull up to a familiar Victorian house on Austen Dr.. It’s exactly the same as the last time I saw it with its little white fence, bay windows, and porch that was designed to be relaxed on. For a moment, I feel like I’m dreaming and that this last year never happened. This isn’t the first time I’ve felt like this. There have been nights where I forget what city I’m in because everything feels too good to be true and my body tricks me into thinking Inever had any of it. On those nights, I’ll roll over to see Garrett there and remember I belong right next to him.

The festival is just as magical as I remember. Blueberry wine stains my tongue as the hours fly by. We get our faces painted with hearts before we slow dance with the other couples enjoying the live music. I almost breeze past the letter writing station, but Garrett pulls me to it.

“I don’t need another one,” I tell him and it’s the truth. He’s given me enough for a lifetime. Sometimes we still opt to use calendar invites instead of texts.

Can you come get the remote, I’m too comfortable: Tuesday, 11 a.m. – 11:10 a.m. @ The Couch

People watching at The MET: Wednesday, 10 a.m. - 3:30 p.m. @ Meet you downstairs.

I miss you, that’s it. I miss you: Sunday, All Day Event @ Right Here

“So many of our love letters have been heard by the entire world. I’m going to write one just for you,” he says as if he hasn’t done enough.

After gathering the materials from Haven, who gives me a conspiratorial once over because of the wig, we find spots on opposite sides of the booth. I’m still working to write down every last word that comes to mind when I look up to find that Garrettis already folding his. Several minutes later, I fold mine up and seal it with the wax that Haven has to add a special touch.

“Here,” I say, handing my letter to Garrett.

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