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“I’ll sing Patrick’s lines and you’ll sing DT’s?”
His eyes twinkled. “Sounds fantastic.”
Once we were onstage, I knew I should’ve taken the out when I had the chance. Crushed Beanz wasn’tthatfull, granted—maybe like ten people total? But I could see straight to the back where Jonathan and Vincent were making coffees, and the former looked up with a wide grin on his face.
I wanted to give him a certain finger.
But Harry—he’d begun bobbing his head in time with each beat. Ugh, I was going to embarrass myself in front of him. If I actually tried, no way would I even come close to how Untapped Potential sounded. But if I purposefully sang poorly, I was just signing myself up for humiliation.
There was no way to win.
The pounding of my heart nearly made me miss the first verse of the song, but I drew in a breath, hoping my voice wouldn’t quiver.
“Is it just me or is everyone so freaking happy?” I sang, replacing the different F-word that came along with the track. Inwardly I winced, but I kept going. “Smiling, laughing, like the world isn’t so depressing. Is it just me who’s not so freaking happy, smiling, laughing, not ever really asking what’s going on?”
Was it too late to jump from the stage and cower in my booth? Or to run outside and jump in front of a car? I didn’t think so.
When I turned to Harry, I nearly jolted at his expression. His eyes were wide, his lips parted. Jeez, did I soundthatbad?
He’d been so lost in thought that he came in late to the next verse. And right when I thought he’d be serious—that my serious voice clued him in that he could sing his best too—he proved me wrong. His voice came out wavy, as if he were speaking through a fun-house filter, not a care in the world about proper pitch or tone.
“We-ee nee-eed to all just take a be-eeat, look past what the world wants us to see-ee.”
I burst out laughing, right into the microphone. It was loud and probably made everyone wince. I laughed so hard that I didn’t hear him finish the verse, didn’t hear my cue to continue with my line. “A-And we’re all just”—I gasped in air—“looking around with r-rose-colored glasses on.”
Even though we were only twenty seconds into the song, this moment in time quickly became one of my favorite moments ever. If I’d kept a diary, this moment wouldsobe in it. Highlighted and underlined. Every hilarious detail included. Because it wasn’t just him singing silly and me laughing—we were doing it together.
While he sang, he looked straight into my eyes and wore the goofiest smile. And while I laughed through my lines, I looked right at him, all nerves gone.
With him, I felt comfortable. Again, it felt as if there was no Destelle, no Stella, no separation or division. Only a sense ofrightness, of comfort, remained. I’d never felt that way with anyone. Not even with Margot. Not at this level. With Harry, I could be anyone I wanted to be—I could beme.
And with that thought in mind, I never wanted the feeling to end.
