Page 85 of Ghost Note

Saff jerked her chin. “You keep telling yourself that. It makes it easier, right?”

“What do you mean?”

She looked over at me with a twinkle in her eye that gave a hint of her wanting to say something she wasn’t quite sure she should as she tucked her hands into the back pockets of her trousers and rocked on her boots again.

“I’ve been where you are… kind of. Your guy finds a talent, runs with it, and it takes over everything. You, his girl, are suddenly bumped down the list of priorities. The first gig happens. Then the first opportunity to take it to a bigger stage.Just one more step,that’s what they tell themselves. They think they can have a taste of this musical life and then somehow just wake up one day and sayOkay, well, I’m good now. I can give it up. I don’t want the band to go to New York, LA, or Paris. I’m not bothered about the album or a record deal. I’ll just do one more thing to feed this… this… this drive within me, and then I’ll give everything up for my girlfriend. I’ll go home, become a computer programmer or an electrician, and I’ll be happy with the few memories I made because no one really wants to chase the rainbow all the way to the end anyway.But that never happens. Instead, their ‘one more gig’ becomes a habit. An addiction they can’t give up, and they know that asking their girl to come along for the ride is fucking selfish. So, they do what they think is the honourable thing, and they tell you it’s over.”

I stared at her; my lips parted. “Archer did that to you, too?”

She scoffed, shaking her head and looking down at the toes of her boots. “Oh, that idiot tried his hardest. He got about four days away from me before I called him out on his bullshit and dragged his arse to a hotel room in Brighton to show him what I thought of his pathetic attempt at…” she raised her fingers to air quote, “salvation.”

“You went after him?”

“Of course,” she said, looking up. “What that fool didn’t understand was that, when you love somebody, even if you don’t have a damn clue about any of it, their dream becomes yours, too. You may not want it for yourself, but you sure as shit want it for them, right? And if you don’t, did you ever really love them? Or did you just want them to fit intoyourdream. The one you’d created, but they didn’t see themselves in.”

“So… you just sacrificed your life for his?” I asked, my voice small.

“What life?” She laughed again. “I was twenty-one. All I had was bad college grades, an underpaid job, and two nagging parents who thought I should have taken an apprenticeship I didn’t want. Hell, I admired Archer for knowing what he wanted at twenty-one. I sure as shit didn’t. So, yeah, I guess if that’s how people see it, I packed up my life for his. There wasn’t much to pack up to be honest becausehewas the grand sum of it.” She leaned in closer. “Don’t tell him I said that to you, though.”

In all the time I’d been apart from Danny, I’d never once looked at it the way Saffron had within four days of Archer having left her.

With a nudge to my shoulder, Saffron looked up just as a runner with an earpiece and a clipboard came closer to guide us to the stage.

But my mind was stuck on her words like a broken record, the scratching sound grating on the walls in there as I walked forward, half-aware, half in a daydream.

There wasn’t much to pack up to be honest.

He was the grand sum of it.

Twenty-Eight

The noise from the packed arena made goosebumps rise everywhere. Everything about the night was surreal, leaving me floating. I had no idea where the guys were as I stood next to Saffron in the wings of the stage, watching as the roadies got the last bits of equipment set up. The tension was building, and it made me dizzy with nerves and excitement for Danny, even if he was a pro at this by now.

A pair of arms slid around my waist slowly, making me jump, before his head rested on my shoulder. I glanced at him, suddenly calmer from his presence.

“I know it isn’t easy but thank you for not running. I know you’ve probably come close a thousand times already tonight.”

I smiled at him, unable to deny that particular accusation. “Thanks for wanting me here.”

With a small kiss to my cheeks, a rolling wave of intro music washed over the crowd; the lights dimming as the build-up began.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he ordered before he and the rest of the band walked out onto the dimly-lit stage and took their positions with their guitars, drums, and microphones. The crowd saw them as silhouettes, and the cheering began before they’d struck a single chord. I couldn’t look away from Danny as he settled into his place not too far away from me, readjusting the guitar in front of his body, and playing idle notes with his fingers that I couldn’t hear.

He wore the same skinny jeans he’d shown up in, but his T-shirt had been replaced with a sleeveless tank that was torn, black, and edgy, showcasing his tattoos for the world to see—especially that daisy.

With his guitar in place, he turned to me and winked, making the butterflies in my stomach roar to life on cue before the strobe lights broke out across the arena, and he struck his hand down across the strings of his guitar, singlehandedly bringing the show to life.

I’d seen him practice over the years. I’d seen him play in his garage, in his bedroom, and even to his parents before their untimely deaths. I’d caught glimpses of him during my short video research on the floor of my stock room just the other day, but I had never, not once, seen Danny up close and personal like this…

I’d never seen the determination in his creased eyes or the concentration on his smiling face. I’d not noticed the subtle movements of his fingers or the way he glided across the stage so effortlessly as he played.

I’d never noticed that his passion bled from him in ways he could never have kept to himself.

Out there, he was playing for his life.

Playing without guilt, only passion, and with the biggest, most confident smile on his face as he got lost in the first track with his bandmates.

Today, your mouth is crazy,

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