Page 124 of Crescendo

“And you did! The regret, the hope, the beauty of a couple dancing together… it was all in there.”

She nodded. “Your story was stronger. You emotionally destroyed basically everyone in the room.”

“I… don’t really know what to do with myself right now.”

She laughed again. “You tell Lydia she was right, that she helped unlock something in you that was better than anything I was doing by clinging to the rules and what I thought I was supposed to do.”

I breathed a laugh too. “Olivia told her to do the ugly things sometimes.”

“Yeah. That’s it, isn’t it? Music’s beautiful, but, sometimes, the best thing you can do with it is express the ugly thing.” She stared off towards the stage, now empty. “Hannah did it, too. Her piece was so much braver and more beautiful than mine because she… wasn’t afraid of who she was or what she was feeling.”

“You don’t have to be, either, you know? You’re not going to lose all of this by being who you are.”

She shot me a deeply sceptical look. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“I know. And I know it’s hard, but you deserve to make the music that really speaks to you.”

She blew out a long, slow, heavy breath. “I… don’t even know where to start. Feels like I left all of that in Liverpool.”

“You didn’t leave Hannah there. Play what sounds like her.”

She scowled at me. “Are you suggesting Hannah sounds ugly?”

“What? No! Oh, my god. Come on.” I grabbed her wrist and pulled her off towards one of the practice rooms.

“Wow. Okay. You can let go, I was just messing with you.”

I shot her a look, letting go once we were in the room, and I gestured to the instruments. “Tell me what you’re feeling drawn to.”

“Lydia’s worn off on you. Bossy streak much?” she muttered, but she turned to look at the instruments. “The bass, obviously, but I’m not much of a bassist.”

“So, you can do the ugly thing or you can pick something you know how to play more confidently to really pour the ugly out on.”

She pursed her lips before scowling at the bass like she had a personal bone to pick with it, and she lifted it up, settling it over her body. “You better not tell anyone how shit I am with this.”

I held my hands up in surrender. “Not a word. I promise.”

And she played. But she wasn’t really shit at all. She wasn’t the bassist Hannah was, but she was good. I imagined Hannah had given her a few lessons, back in a happier time. Maybe that wasn’t how Eliza had learned but I liked to imagine them like that—happy and playing together.

It took a minute for her to really let go, but then she was playing something. It was raw, almost guttural. It was ugly, but it was beautiful. It had the same angry energy she’d had when I’d followed her out of class. And then I realised it went with Hannah’s piece. This wasn’t the happy ending that came after it, this was the battle. This was loving someone and not understanding what was going on between you. This was all of the crossed wires and forced dates and misunderstandings.

The door cracked open and I worked to stifle a smile as Hannah slipped through the door, shut it softly, and leaned against the wall, watching Eliza play.

Eliza was facing the opposite direction and too wrapped up in playing to notice Hannah, but she kept playing for her all the same.

The longer it went, and the softer Hannah’s expression became, the more I felt like I was intruding. I checked the time. Still a little early for LA. Maybe Lydia and I would never be on the same page again, but Hannah and Eliza could be. Here they were, in the same room, finally almost on the same page, racing ever closer with every strum of the bass.

“There should be a drum kit in this room,” Eliza yelled over the music. “If you’re going to have me pour my feelings out, I really need a drum kit. Although, maybe Hannah would be disappointed in me resorting back to that person.”

“She wouldn’t be,” Hannah said, and Eliza gasped, the music cutting off as she turned rapidly to stare towards the door.

“What are you doing here?” Eliza asked, eyes wide.

Hannah smiled, tilted her head. “What do you think?”

Eliza froze for a moment. “Eavesdropping, I guess.”

“Well, if you’re going to avoid me, this is what I’m left with.”

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