“When do you want me to start?” I asked.
Her eyes peered up from behind her large, framed glasses. “Today. He’s expecting you this morning actually.”
“Great.” I gritted my teeth. “I’ll get my stuff packed up and head that way.”
“Perfect. I really can’t wait to see what you come up with. I’m just so interested in how this story will play out.”
“Yeah…” I paused. “Me too.”
The lump in my throat still hadn’t subsided as I climbed into my Jeep.
“Why are you so freaked out?” I asked out loud, throwing my bag into the passenger seat.
I put my hands on my forehead and massaged my temples, trying to calm my nervous system because quite frankly I was spiraling, both from anxiety and something else that whirled at the base of my stomach.
The warmth radiating from my black leather seats wrapped my body in a much-needed embrace.
“This isn’t that big of a deal. You’re going to write an article on someone. Your job is to find the story to the best of your ability, and then write about it. That’s it,” I said, doing my best to convince myself but finding doubt lingering everywhere.
I knew it wasn’t going to be that simple, but I had to do my job because Donna was counting on me. And she was right, Icouldbe professional about it, which was exactly what I planned to do. “Let’s go get another damn wall-hanger article,” I said, trying to hype myself up with a half-assed laugh.
If I didn’t laugh, I might combust.
The drive to Rolling Meadows calmed me like always. Winter had settled over our little town and the low-hanging trees that lined the winding road were bare but still brought a sense of peace with them. Everything may have been in hibernation, but it felt cozy everywhere you looked. The low hum of the radio quieted some of my intruding thoughts, leaving me space to think.
Donna insisted there was more to Stetson’s story, and while I didn’t necessarily disagree with her, I wasn’t sure the best way to go about retrieving that information, especially from someone like him. He was cocky, and after Saturday night, who knew how he was going to respond to me showing up asking questions.
I remembered back to the first night we met. The conversation in the darkness, under the stars, that felt different from the rest. For those few moments, he’d been vulnerable, honest, and seemingly unafraid of what I might think. But then again, his words were disguised behind the safety he felt from the cover of darkness.
If I was going to figure out the real reason he was hell-bent on being here in Quincey Falls, away from the spotlight, then I needed to findthatStetson again. The one from the night we first met.
Chapter Fourteen
“Hello!” I called out. “Anyone here?”
I peeked through the giant double barn doors and didn’t see anyone. “Holy shit,” I mumbled.
My feet shuffled inside, turning to close the doors behind me. It was obvious by the gust of warm air that greeted me that this barn—if you could even classify it as that—was heated. Said barn was also one of the coziest looking spaces I’d ever seen. Everything was drenched in shades of brown, black, and a deep forest green. The walls, the furniture, even most of the decor. I didn’t really remember what the barn looked like before, but I knew a lot of work had to have been done in order to accomplish what it was now.
I looked around again, hoping to find any insight into where or if Stetson was even here. In the back left corner, I spotted a steel door labeledStudioand thought I heard some noise coming from that direction. “Seems like a good possibility,” I whispered to myself.
I walked across the room, still taking in everything around me and wondering whether Stetson had a say in the decor or ifhe’d just paid someone to decorate. I assumed the latter because this felt too thought-out. The fuzzy tan blanket draped over the caramel-colored leather couch. The clean yet musky scent that lingered in the air. And the collection of old vinyls that were displayed next to one of the coolest and maybe oldest-looking record players I’d ever seen. This place somehow felt like a home.
The door was heavy as I cracked it open a few inches, again coming up empty. That was, until I peered through the glass window and spotted Stetson sitting in the live room with his guitar in his lap and another large man leaning against the wall in front of him.
“I just want this album to be different, Mark.” Stetson’s voice was low and somber as he stared at the man he’d called Mark. “So much in my life has changed since my last album, and so much of what I used to write about doesn’t show my fans who I am anymore.”
Before I knew what I was doing, I’d slinked into the control room, keeping my presence unknown.
“I understand. I do. I just need to know what your expectations are for this album. Because if you go and make something different from all your other music, you might not get the praise you’re used to. You know that, right? People bank on Stetson Walker to sing about girls and parties and getting drunk. It’s who they know you to be. What they want when they listen to your music.” Mark was a bald man, and from the looks of it, he wasn’t someone I’d want on my bad side.
“My expectations have changed along with the rest of my life. I’m not looking for the next chart topper or to break any records. I’m just looking forward to writing songs that mean something to me, that could maybe mean something to someone else. I want to take my fans on a ride, show them who I am and who I want to become. Especially now, after everythingthat’s happened. Show them that everyone deserves the chance to change, to grow up and realize what’s actually important.” Stetson stared off in the distance before returning his gaze to Mark. “Everyone, including you, thinks they know who I am, but really you have no idea, because neither do I. I’m still figuring all that shit out, but I’d love to try and figure it all out through my music. And more than anything, I want this one to be for her.”
Her.
The word hit my chest like a ton of bricks.
There was someone. Someone he wanted to make an entire album for, an album that seemingly meant a lot to him. Then why all of the flirting and bullshit? Was he really exactly the kind of person I thought he was?
