Page 138 of Crescendo

I just wanted her to see I was serious. That there was something real between us. And maybe it was the fact that music was immortal—that medicine could make someone live longer, but music could make someone live forever. And if our music met, that was something that could never really die.

Of course, I also liked being extra.

“I love neat excuses,” I settled for saying. “Much better than messy ones, which is my usual. Anyway, Natália and I have a hell of a lot of work to do. Go to sleep.”

Natália chimed in cheerfully with, “Or whatever you two do before bed!”

Eliza sighed pointedly and gave another goodbye, promising to see me later for the work, before she left the call, and Hannah cleared her throat.

“Uh… Lydia…”

“Yes?”

“Thanks. For a lot of stuff. Not least of all this.”

I laughed. “For better or worse, we’re friends now. I’ll see you at the Royal Albert Hall. You will be there, right? To go wild when Ella’s piece plays?”

“‘Course. I actually like Ella, since she didn’t up and skip the whole damn country.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too. Bye now.”

And I rode that high all the way to the moment when I finally got back to my house at ten that night, when I crashed on the couch up in the music room, sending Ella a text.

Brett’s happy, for once in his sad, sour life,I sent.I’ve asked the appropriate parties if I can send this. Be warned that it hits like a truck.

Ella responded in no time—she was up bright and early in the mornings these days, back to her old life working early shifts at the hospital, and I always made sure to squeeze in a message before she went into work. We texted back and forth as shelistened to the song, gushing about every detail of it—picking up on all the fine points Hannah and Natália and I had put in, all the points that most people would never pick up on consciously—and just like every night, I desperately didn’t want to let her go when she had to head into work.

It was getting torturous at this point. We talked every single day, having scaled up from just messaging when we had music to share—finding excuses to ramp it up, one thing after another, and it was already practically unthinkable for either of us to not reach out in a day, even if we had to work around the time difference. We were, essentially, every part of dating except for actually talking about it, and I found I couldn’t imagine—didn’t want to imagine—a life without her in it.

It burned under my skin, a fire in my veins, through all the times I had to drag myself into the studio early in the morning, when Natália and I had to meet with one suite of micromanagers after another, when we went in for recording sessions and Natália sat in the booth while I conducted for the musicians. With each delicate flick or aggressive slash of the baton, each second listening back to audio tracks zeroing in on the tiniest detail, every word arguing with the talking heads in the studio to try defending Natália’s and my vision for the soundtrack—all of it just felt like it was in preparation for that moment I’d step out onto the stage at the Royal Albert Hall.The Quiet Ones,a massive franchise where hundreds of millions of dollars were resting on every aspect of the production, was suddenly a small background element compared to what I was really here for, and it had me pacing my living room anxiously when the day for my flight finally came.

“Dude, you look like you’re going to throw up,” Melinda said once she got into the house. “Are you good? I didn’t think you were capable of performance anxiety.”

“I’m not anxious about performing in front of a crowd, I’m anxious about performing in front of a crowd that contains Ella Hendrickson.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “God, you’re so corny. I can’t believe you went and fell this hard for a girl. Come on, you total loser. Let’s get you to the airport so you can go get ready to dazzle the love of your life.”

And as luck would have it, Ella texted me not long after I saw off Melinda and Natália with tearful hugs at the airport. I promised Natália thatnoI wasn’t leaving “forever and ever and ever” and I got to my gate at the terminal, sitting tapping my foot and listening toAcross the Riverin my headphones, conducting with an imaginary baton, when her message pinged through.

Did your morning meetings go well?

I laughed to myself. I’d booked all my meetings for other days to clear me up for a flight today. But Ella still thought I was going to arrive on Saturday to see the performance and had no idea I was flying today to rehearse with the orchestra before then.terrible,I replied.Jason went on for ages rambling about his personal life and Natália and I had to find a way to make him stop without closing him in a cabinet and running

How many times is this now? I feel like at this point you’re entitled to close him in one.

I plan on doing it on my last day with the studio,I replied.So I take it you’ve finished work for the day?

We talked about little things—me telling stories from the past week, picked at random to sound like they could have been happening today—until Ihad to go into the rest of my meetingsand boarded my plane.

And that asshole Adam had offered to have my travel covered as a performer and hadn’t mentioned it was in economy class. I should have booked my own damn ticket. I was too tall for economy-class legroom, dammit.

Between that and the anxious excitement bubbling through every part of my body, I felt like I needed to run a race when we finally touched down in Heathrow. London felt like it was something out of another lifetime, and I laughed thickly when I stepped into the arrivals gate and found Olivia Gould waiting for me, wearing a neat burgundy suit with a patterned neckerchief and, best of all, pump heels covered with colorful sequins arranged in rainbow stripes.

“Well, look who decided to come crawling back to London, then,” she said as I pushed through the crowds toward her.

“What’s this? Did Adam send you, or did you hear about me coming and couldn’t bear the thought of missing me one more second?”

She laughed pointedly. “Adam had to push quite a bit to get me to schlep over here first thing in the morning just to see a washed-up has-been,” she said lightly, giving me a quick hug and a cheek kiss. “You’re looking worse for wear.”

---