For the way he pushes me to be a better musician … and a better friend.
I think about how he’s always the last person to leave the stage, making sure everything is set up perfectly, safely.
Because he doesn’t only care about me.
He cares about everyone on the stage and crew, whether he knows it or not.
I think about the truths he’s told me and the ones he’s still clinging to.
I think about the way Connor’s voice sounded when they were talking, oily and too smooth.
Everything Patty has told me about their dynamic was unhealthy. Patty’s under so much pressure to pay for his dad’s surgery. To save his bar. To finally let Sean have a chance to shine.
And the truth hits me:
I can’t imagine why Patty would sell songs that are sacred to me. But if I’ve learned anything over the last three months, it’s that I trust him with parts of myself I don’t give away easily.
Even if he has sold them, I have to believe he had a reason. That he felt he had no other choice.
And that has to be enough. For now.
Because the alternative—that I’ve been lying to myself this whole time, that I betrayed myself when I let someone in—makes my throat go dry and my stomach twist, like I might cry, throw up, or curl into a ball and never recover.
Maybe I’m being naive. Again. Maybe this tentative trust is misplaced, and I’m setting myself up for even more heartbreak.
Hismom’s words come to me now?—
The lie she told herself.
If I stopped, it would all mean nothing.
I think I know what she means now.
I’ve opened up to him, shown him pieces of my soul no one else has ever seen.
If I close myself now …
It all meant nothing.
I finally see Patty at sound check, and something catches in my chest to see him so stoic and unreadable. A moment later, Connor walks out from backstage, smiling comfortably at everyone. Looking at both of their faces, I can’t tell who got the upper hand in their… what was it? A discussion? An argument? A stare-down?
Greer is standing next to Manny, watching us like a hawk when Connor comes over. Something about the way Connor’s eyes flick over to Patty—like a cat who just cornered a mouse—sends a jolt through me.
And Patty just … ignores him.
But there’s a tension to his dismissal. Something charged hovers in the air, making me feel like my hair is standing up.
Connor greets me with a hug and a smile so sincere, you’d never guess the label is the one pushing us together. His arms around me linger, just like Patty’s eyes linger on mine the whole time I’m in Connor’s arms.
“I’ve followed every minute of your tour,” Connor says. “And I’ve never seen someone do what you’re doing.”
I laugh as he releases me. Is he serious, or is this just his angle for the label’s PR stunt? “You’re jokin’ me, right? I’m only driving down the road you paved a long time ago.”
“Me andDuncan,” he corrects, emphasizing his bandmate’s name.
“Yeah,” I say, surprised he’s willing to give anyone else credit. “But your career continued. His stopped.”
Connor studies me like he’s trying to crack a code I don’t even know exists. His gaze flickers past me offstage, where Patty is. Did they talk about Duncan after I left? I feel like I’m missing something.
