Page 175 of Haunt Me

The minute James and I hang up the phone, an entire album drops as if from the sky into my brain. I’m not exaggerating. I struggle to keep all the songs and melodies straight in my head, treading water, gasping for air as they come to me, and I know I won’t get any sleep, I won’t eat, I won’t talk, until I have written everything down before I forget it.

But one thing I know I won’t forget: the title of my new album.

‘Isaiah’.

The Heartbreakers Forum

IssyWOOIssyWOO: There are rumors he has been writing new songs. What do we think? Is he going to drop a new album while on break in the new year? He’s going to be on tour until spring, so…?

Number1_Fan: I will absolutely die if we get a new Issy Woo album. Heck, if we get a single I will go out of my mind.

ElectricIsaiah: Let’s hope he gets into the recording studio soon. Although, he is so private, he might already have been there, recording.

IssyWOOIssyWOO: Stop it, everyone, the thought is making me literally giddy.

StHope_27: At the end of tonight’s show, he said: Be ready. That was all. Then he bowed and exited the stage. What does it mean?

Insane4Issy: That he could throw anything at us, even a new album, at any point, without warning.

Number1_Fan: It could mean anything. But I, for one, am ready. Bring it on, Issy Woo. Ruin us.

StHope_27: I have been to six of his concerts, and I still can’t believe he is real.

ForumFangirl: He is what poets mean when they write ‘a voice like honey’. Seeing him in person, actually watching him produce these unreal vocals out of his literal mouth is a transcendent experience. (I am not exaggerating).

IssyWOOIssyWOO: I am NOT READY. The tears that have been shed overHeartbreaker… There are no more tears left in my body. He said ‘be ready’ and I assure you, whatever he is planning… We. Are. Not.

Europe/Chicago

thirty-five

August is drawing to a slow, agonizing end, and I’m exhausted. We are going to have a month’s pause and then a few more UK shows, then Amsterdam, Vienna, Warsaw and Lisbon, and then the much-needed Christmas and New Years’ break.

Still, I somehow manage to find a way to spend every free waking moment in the recording studio. Every single chance I get, when my voice allows it, I’m there. Headphones on, eyes closed, songs pouring out of me like black ink.

The studio has always been my happy place, but I have never felt like this before. The music comes to me, pouring out of my lips effortlessly. Bursting out of my chest. Sometimes I take a break from recording to jot down new lyrics. I end up writing and recording whole new songs right then and there, within the space of a few hours. Jude is with me almost always, and the rest of the musicians come over to watch or play with me.

I imagine her walking in, out of the blue, and my voice breaks.

In the end, I decide to record with my back to the door, but it doesn’t help. I am still picturing her whenever I close my eyes. I am forever singing to her, even when she is not here.

…

And while I sing, life moves on.

Faith lets me know that Eden has gotten into Harvard, which I knew would happen.

‘Is she happy?’I ask.

Faith replies by telling me that Princess Olivia’s coronation is going to be live on TV in two days, in case I want to watch it. She doesn’t answer my question, and I don’t press her. I catch the coronation before my show, and I watch Eden climb red-carpeted stairs, dressed in a transcendent, softly sparkling long dress of pale blue. Her red hair is flowing in perfect curls down her back. She looks like a fairy princess.

She recites two of her poems,SurvivorandSmaller, and her voice doesn’t tremble once. Olivia looks serious and beautiful, her hair a black halo around her beautiful face, but as soon as Eden steps up to read her poems, her face is transformed. She gives her full attention to Eden, and the cameras can’t decide which one to focus on. The two end up sharing the screen, and it looks like Eden is reciting her poems just for Olivia.

I know Eden: that is exactly what she is doing. Her fingers are trembling slightly, but I can tell by the look in her eyes and she is only pretending to read from the expensive piece of paper she is holding. She knows every word by heart, and recites them flawlessly.

The new queen looks regal and strong, focused and calm, and somehow… ready for her new role. Her features are exquisite, her manners flawless. But I can’t take my eyes off Eden. Seeing her on the screen like this haunts me for the next weeks. The emotion in her voice as she reads, the words she says… It all makes me a complete wreck. I don’t know how I will perform my next show.

Somehow, I get through it.

---