Page 228 of Haunt Me

I bite my lip. “I just wanted her to know that I love her,” I say. “I didn’t care for anything else besides that.”

And now it doesn’t matter. I am just waiting for every day to be over. I am not living. I can’t live without her.

…

There will be a series of surprises with this release, surprises that Skye, Jude, Miki, my producers and I have been analyzing and planning for months. Surprise music video drops, surprise guests on my shows, added parts, performances of the new songs, and so much more. It’s going to be a full-on production from now on.

The audience has seen nothing compared to what’s coming.

I was so excited for this sequence of surprise drops. This is the work I am most proud of, compared to anything I have ever done in my life. My inbox is flooded with messages, but I ignore them all.

The only ones I’m eager to read are my mom’s, James’ and the Elliots’. They all love the new albums to various degrees. Faith and Walter can’t stop crying—what else is new? James doesn’t say it’s good. He just says one word: ‘wow’. I don’t think he realizes he said it himself, otherwise he never would have.

There’s nothing but radio silence from Eden.

The one person whose opinion really matters to me. I am going out of my mind. And not slowly, as they say. Very very rapidly.

And then the fan reactions come in. I couldn’t possibly have foreseen the astronomical success ofHeartbreaker, but this… this is going stratospheric. This is surreal. Jude, Miki, Skye and I do nothing for an entire day but watch my songs climb the charts, the numbers of streams and purchases rising and rising. Eventually, we get tired and go to bed. But the numbers don’t stop swelling.

We wake up to reviews from music critics and industry websites that take themselves very seriously. They all seem a little shocked by the material they just heard, as if they are fumbling for the right words to express themselves.

‘Any song that makes you go numb inside and the world around you stop spinning while you are listening is really, really good music. And that isEnough Love.’

‘Heartmenderjust destroyed me and put me back together. Isaiah is here to stay, and what’s more, heisthe music industry.’

‘The new songs of Isaiah’s same-name album are a genre all on its own. It’s Issian, one could say. We should find a new word to describe his music. It’s VanGoghian, it’s Mozartish, DaVincish. No one has done what he has with this album. There aren’t any adjectives to describe a human soul in the form of a song, and that is exactly what Isaiah has given us. The album is a rock opera and a pop anthem of its generation. It is brave. It is truth.’

‘This is not an album. This is a heart breaking in front of our eyes. This is two people talking to each other withmusic and lyrics. Trying to save each other’s lives. We are listening to a conversation between two star-crossed lovers, and it’s as beautiful as it is heartbreaking. The only word that does justice to a work of this emotion and magnitude is ‘genius’.’

Faith facetimes me three days later, in the middle of the circus that is my life currently, still crying over how beautiful and sad the songs are.

“Has she listened to them? Do you know if…” I can’t help asking.

“I’m sorry,” she replies. “She can’t. I’m sorry, Zay.”

I shake my head. “No, it’s fine. I’m glad you called. It means so much to me that you like them,” I tell her.

“One more thing,” she says.

“Let me stop you before you say it,” I interrupt her, but I know I can’t stop her.

“Zay, I’m so sorry,” she says again. She is about to cry.

“Don’t do this, Fee, I can’t lose you or Manuela. Please don’t ask this of me.”

“I just… I think it’s not healthy for us to talk, or to… to rely on our communication like we currently do, you know? Not when you and Eden are…”

“Broken up?”

She doesn’t agree. She doesn’t disagree either.

“Broken?” I correct myself.

“When you and Eden aren’t speaking,” she says gently. “Her therapists agree. I don’t want to intrude.”

“You are not intruding, Faith, you are a lifeline. You are keeping me sane.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “But that’s the problem, isn’t it? You two need to figure things out without any crutches. To heal. To grow. Wherever this takes you, it needs to take you on your own, Zay.” She sniffles. “I love you.”

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