Page 131 of Crescendo

Ugh. This whole thing was impossible. But at least she was speaking to me.

“Are you okay?” I practically yelled down the phone the second she answered, not even waiting for a greeting. “Did something happen? Are you hurt?”

She laughed in surprise. “Hurt? I don’t think calling someone halfway across the world would be the most sensible option if I were hurt.”

My brain stalled. That was… logical.

“I can understand why you wouldn’t expect sensible from me, though,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. I’d missed it so much.

“Well, yeah, it’s like… four fifteen for you.”

“I’m back in the US now, darling, and we don’t use twenty-four hour time, so four fifteen could be an entirely sensible time.”

My breathing stalled.Darling.She’d done it without thinking, naturally, and I didn’t know whether that was good or bad—better or worse than her not doing it.

Better.So much better. And so much worse, because what were we doing? We were trying to be friends, but I melted every time we spoke, at every note of music Lydia sent, at every tiny slip that took us back to being in the same place, and that wasn’t friend behaviour.

Lydia cleared her throat like my silence alerted her to what she’d said and what it meant—or didn’t mean.

“Um, so, sorry, why are you calling?” I asked, pushing past any attempts Lydia might make to walk herdarlingback. I didn’t want to hear that.

She let out a breath. “You called me.”

“What? Oh. Ha. Okay. Why am I calling you at four in the morning?”

“Well,” she said, drawing the world out, “I’ve been working on this score…”

“Right?”

“The main piece, that throne scene, has been missing something—the director’s kind of a dick for no reason a lot of the time, but, in this case, it did need something really different.”

“Like you learning rock from Hannah and Dodge.”

“Exactly! And Hannah has this song with these… ruinous lyrics—”

I breathed a laugh. “That you think would be perfect for yoursomething different.”

“See? You’re a composer, you get it.”

“I haven’t even watched the scene, Lydia. I just know you.” My chest ached.

“You’re a composer because you know I wouldn’t suggest putting… bubblegum pop over a scene like that.”

She loved bubblegum pop, but she was right, I’d heard enough of her conversation with Natália about the film to know it didn’t need that in its pivotal scene.

I furrowed my brow. “Are you calling me to ask me to ask Hannah to work with you?”

My heart pounded painfully, hoping it wasn’t just that.

“Oh, no. I already told Adam he’s my messenger.”

I laughed. “You’re friends with Hannah. You couldn’t ask her yourself?”

“Of course not. The piece is amazing, but it’s incomplete—even outside of working it into what we’ve already got.”

“Lydia, you’re the best composer in the world—”

“I know, right?” she laughed.

---