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And it was so difficult to keep it together. Because all I’d ever wanted was my father’s approval until I realized too late that none of it fucking mattered. He wasn’t the person I’d thought he was. He’d never be the person I most looked up to in the world. He’d wrecked it all.
Still, that warred with everything I’d wanted for so many years. A conflicting melee in my brain that was probably the last thing I needed before I went onstage.
“Okay…I have to go.”
“Call me some other time. I just want to talk.”
He never just wanted to talk.
“Maybe,” I said uncertainly.
“I’m not the monster you’ve made me out to be.”
“I thought you were a god,” I ground out. “You made yourself into a monster.”
And then I remembered all too well why I shouldn’t have fucking answered. There was always an angle. Always a saint complex.
“West,” he said softly.
But I hung up. I didn’t need any more of that in my brain.
Campbell was beckoning me over when I got off the phone. “Ten minutes. You set?”
I must have still been vibrating with anger. Anger at my dad and myself. I should have known better. I had known better, and I had done it anyway.
I clenched my hands into fists and nodded. “Sure.”
Campbell looked unconvinced, but we didn’t have time. “All right. Let’s get into position. We’ll be announced, and then let’s kill it.”
Santi shrugged his shoulders back and bounced from foot to foot. “I’m fucking ready.”
Viv popped a bubble in her gum. “Hell yeah.”
Yorke grunted. Typical.
“Remember, ‘Rooftop Nights’ is already the number one song in the world,” he said with a wicked grin. “We just have to prove to them why.”
That thought only spiked my anxiety. I still couldn’t believe that a song that I’d worked on was number one in the world. It was normal for Cosmere to have that sort of success, but this was the first song I’d ever worked on that had done anything. And now, I had to prove why I was out there, playing keys for the band instead of Michael. No pressure.
Campbell hit my shoulder again. “Wright, it’s going to be fun.”
I released my fists, trying to force in some calm. “Fun, right.”
Santi laughed. “It’s his first big show, Campbell Soup. Give him a break. You practically pissed yourself at our first big show.”
“I did not,” Campbell growled.
Viv blew another bubble. “Close enough.”
Yorke tipped his head at me. “You’ll be fine.”
And from Yorke, that was real encouragement.
“Yeah, we wouldn’t have you out there with us if you weren’t the shit, hombre,” Santi said.
“What he said,” Campbell said.
We got a thumbs-up from the assistant, and I followed them onto the stage. I sat down in front of the keyboard. Bright lights hit me, and a bead of sweat dripped down my spine. Everything was blurry, as if I had no idea where the keys were anymore. I’d been playing since as long as I could talk, and somehow, it all disappeared.
Shit, shit, shit.
“And tonight, performing their number one hit, ‘Rooftop Nights,’ it’s Cosmere!”
The audience cheered. Santi brought in the drum beat for the opening notes. A settling sound. An intro that I’d heard time and time again. And suddenly, I was back in Lubbock at LBK Studios last summer, playing the opening with Campbell for the first time. Both of us knowing that the song was special. A song about meeting Blaire on the Fourth of July that turned into an upbeat hit that no one could get out of their heads, least of all us. And it was that, that got my fingers moving.
The audience disappeared. No one was watching. We were just jamming, as we had been for the last year. I let loose into the keys, pushing my seat back and leaning forward into the keyboard. Campbell’s smooth lyrics hit every note bigger and better than he ever had in the studio. It was like we were unleashed. A downpour after a drought.
And through it all, I realized that I wanted this more than ever. I’d never come back from this. Never come down from this.
I’d sell my soul to the music industry to get to feel like this every day.
A smile broke onto my face, and I performed the song like never before.
