Maybe instead of rushing in there to tell Josh I'm ready, I should approach it differently. Maybe I should see whatheneeds. Be his partner. His equal.
Quietly, I approach the music room. I slow down when I hear his voice. "I've been up every night this week working on it. It's done. At least the first version."
"What numbers are you going to show Tabitha?" Henderson's accent is unmistakable. I pause, trying to figure out what they're talking about.
"Definitely 'Purple Dawn' and probably 'Look at Me.' What do you think about those?" There's a ruffling sound that’s obviously paper.
"I agree on the ballad, and 'Look at Me' seems fun. What are you going to do about choreo and the like?"
"I was going to ask Leslie, but I don't know that she's up for it. I talked to Kori this morning."
His words are like a punch to my gut.
"Right. You need to bring your A-game. This'll be Tabitha's last chance to decide how much she's going to fund, so you have to show her what you can do. It's got to be your best."
"That's what I'm hoping for, the best. Kori and I'll knock it out of the park."
I sink to the floor, grief and pain washing over me in waves. He doesn't want me because I'm not the best. It's my biggest fear realized. Once again, no matter how hard I work, it's not enough.
I sit there, knees to my chest, and will the tears to stay away. I listen to the beautiful music Josh is playing. It's nothing I've ever heard before.
And then everything makes sense.His show.
Tabitha Stetson is funding his show. It's going to happen. He's auditioning numbers for her. These songs he's written that Kori will choreograph. They'll be performed and will either make or break his career.
And I'm not good enough to do that for him.
The old Leslie would storm in, demanding to know how she could do better. The old Leslie would insist on another chance. The old Leslie would berate and beat herself up with a series of “if onlys.”
Okay, there might be a tiny bit of internal self-flagellation going on. There's a reason why they say that old habits die hard. But I'm trying to learn. I owe it to myself to grow and be better.
To be the best Leslie I can be.
And the best Leslie has to find a way to make it up to Josh.
Chapter 30: Josh
It's Leslie's night to play Lise.
I get to stare at her for three hours and no one will think anything of it. This past week, with my resolve to move on, I've tried not to look. Not to think. Not to feel.
It's made me miserable.
Even as I'm working with Kori and Braedyn and Marcelina to bring my view ofHonor Codeto life, I can't stop thinking about her. Wishing it were her in this room, dancing to my music.
Tonight's her night to take center stage.
I've been milling about for fifteen minutes now, trying to resist the urge to visit her backstage before the show. To wish her luck, obviously, and nothing more.
Because she has no room to give me anything more. I can't ask because she can't give. Once again, our timing is terrible. Maybe someday it will work out.
Or maybe it'll be the third strike.
I'm not much into baseball, but even I know enough not to swing at an outside pitch. And that's what staying involved with her would be. Swinging haphazardly with no hope of a home run.
Okay, I'm out of sports metaphors. I am a musician after all.
"Chookas," I hear Henderson saying as he leaves Leslie's dressing room. "Howdy, mate," he says to me, passing in the hall. I nod and rush to her door, tapping lightly before I lose my courage.
