Page 118 of Gabriel's Album

“I said I won’t be a part of this insanity.” He stands and strides out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

There’s a tense silence left in his wake, and then Heather says, “I don’t blame him. Ariana doesn’t deserve a second of our time or energy.”

“It’s not about her, Heather. It’s about me. I need to do this. I can’t even really explain why, but it’s the way that I can get past it.”

“But you won’t be past it, Gabriel,” Harrison points out. “You’ll be in it. Every day we’re writing and recording. Every night we perform one of the songs. Every time an interviewer asks you about the inspiration behind the album. You’ll be in it. There will be no escaping any of it. Once they have even the slightest clue what it’s about, you’ll be forced to relive it all.”

I sigh and nod. “I know what I’m getting into. The whole world thinks they know everything, and I plan to give them just that.”

“I worked on a song with him yesterday,” Hayden tells them. “It’s really good.”

“So, you knew?” Heather says in an accusatory tone.

“Yes, and it wasn’t my place to tell you,” he responds.

“Sebastian’s right; this is insanity. It’s a terrible idea. I know that I don’t get a say, but that’s what I think.” She shakes her head.

Damn. I was kind of counting on Heather helping me to convince Sebastian, but unless I can make her understand, there’s no chance of that. I walk over to my piano and start playing the song from yesterday.

I sing about Ariana sitting by the pool, about how we jumped in headfirst, and how I wanted her from that night. Singing about how she was on my mind, and the butterflies I felt when she replied to my messages.

When I finish my acoustic version of the song, there’s silence in the room. I don’t turn to look at my friends because I’m struggling against the pain in my chest, and I wonder if they’re right. This is definitely insanity, but I was so sure that this was the way to close that chapter of my life.

“I mean, it’s definitely a good song,” Harrison says from behind me.

“First song on the album,” Hayden tells him. “Gabriel wants to do the relationship from start to finish.”

“Gabriel, you can’t,” Heather says quietly. I turn to look at her, and she has a tear running down her face. “It’ll kill you.”

“I have to,” I croak out.

She sighs and shakes her head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, but I’ll support you if it’s what you really want to do.”

“You know the best way you could support me…” I trail off and give her a rueful grin.

“You’re on your own with Sebastian,” she laughs. “If he comes to me and asks my opinion, I’ll tell him the truth, that I think it’s a bad idea, but I’m supporting you with it.”

Harrison comes over to the piano, and I show him the music for the song I wrote with Hayden. We start work on a couple of the other songs, and Hayden joins us while Heather gives her thoughts every now and again.

Despite her objections, she comes up with a line for one of the songs that is absolutely perfect and calls Sebastian to ask him to join us all for dinner. He agrees to come, and even picks up takeout from Giovanni’s on the way.

“I’m only here because I wanted osso buco, and I couldn’t deny Heather’s request for arancini,” Sebastian announces with a grin on his face when Hayden lets him into the apartment.

“Noted. Still against the album idea?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

“A thousand percent.” He shrugs.

“Okay, because we’re four songs in, and Heather’s on board,” I grin at him.

Sebastian whirls to look at her. “Traitor.”

“Gabriel is very much overstating my support for the idea.” She shakes her head. “The songs are good, though. You should listen to them.”

The only song that’s even close to fully finished is the first one. I play it for Sebastian after dinner, along with the parts we’ve worked out for the next three songs. We have the most for the third song—a full verse and chorus—but the other two are just melodies and a couple of lines.

“Ugh,” Sebastian groans when I’m done. “Why did they have to be good?”

“Did you think they might not be?” I grin at him.

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