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“City lights, Empire State nights,
Her smile, her laugh, my heart beating fast,
It's like I have her one minute, lose her the next,
It's confusing, it's frustrating, I simply accept,
She’s changed me without knowing,
My heart aches without showing,
Why’d you walk away?
I want to show her with my body how fucking beautiful she is,
Maybe I pushed the limits a little bit, but I didn’t cross any lines,
I didn’t kiss her when I wanted nothing more than to taste her lips,
I didn’t run my hands all over her body when I wanted nothing more than to learn every curve,
I didn’t bring her to my bed and worship her the way she deserves,
She’s changed me without knowing,
My heart aches without showing,
Why’d you walk away?
The thought of her leaving is killing me, I can’t bear it,
I want her here, with me forever,
We may not have crossed any lines physically, but my heart did,
I fell for her,
She’s changed me without knowing,
My heart aches without showing,
Why’d you walk away?
You wanted to know my dream, well here it is,
Just over the Brooklyn Bridge.”
I finish playing the last few cords of the song and the spotlight goes off. It’s completely dark and suddenly the sound is deafening. They loved it. I feel the guys come stand next to me and the lights come back on. We all stand there and wave, high five fans and sign a few things before we walk off stage. I tried looking at Brooklyn, but I couldn’t find her and my heart sinks. She fucking left again.
Walking off stage I feel defeated, wrecked. Twice I’ve put myself out there and twice I’ve been rejected. The guys are excited, yelling behind me about how fucking awesome the show was. Normally, I’m right there with them, but right now I just want to go back to the bus, get drunk and pass out. I don’t want to go celebrate or even talk about the fact she walked away.
“Seriously Fitz, that song kicked ass. They loved it,” Nate says, slapping my back.
I give him a small grin and nod my head. I know the crowd loved it that much was evident. It’s the one person I wanted to love it, didn’t. We head into the bigger room and meet up with the opening act. They come over telling us how great the show was and I put on a fake smile and tell them they kicked ass.
I feel a hand on my shoulder and spin around. “Come here for a second,” Poppy says, motioning toward the door.
Christ, just what I need, her sympathy. I follow her though, because maybe the label wants to talk or something. We get into the hallway and it’s bustling with energy and people. Roadies breaking the show down, people from the venue rushing around to keep things flowing and fans that have back stage access. I look at Poppy and raise my eyebrows. “What’s up?”
