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Paxon:I agree. You’re gonna knock this out of the ballpark. Good luck. Or is it break a leg?
Seth:Looking forward to seeing you perform today. Remember to breathe, you’ll do great.
Toby:Can’t wait to see you knock them all fucking dead today. I’ll be the idiot trying to body surf!
Brian:Can’t wait to see if you’re still like that little girl I saw on stage as a kid.
Justin:Thank you for inviting us. You’ll do great.
I let out a breath, shaking off some of my nerves as I turned off my phone and tucked it away. Their words meant more than I was comfortable admitting to.
Straightening my clothes, I looked myself over critically in the mirror. I wore an amethyst dress with an opulently embellished keyhole halter neckline. The wispy chiffon gown itself had a ruched bodice and a sweeping, tiered skirt that was accentuated by a finely pleated empire-waistband. It was one of my favorite dresses in my favorite color.
Chatter from backstage reached me, reminding me about what was about to happen. The low murmur of voices mixed in with clinking glasses and dishes and the swish of movements. Music played softly from the stage. Someone with a cello.
I blew out a breath as my nerves tried to take over.
It was going to be okay. I had to be. This wasn’t about me, but about the others out there, still trapped. I’m out. I’m free. And I wanted the same for them. I could do this for them. I always did this for them.
“Cadence?”
I blinked out of my thoughts, my anxiety skyrocketing once again just as I was getting myself calm.
Hazel and Lillian Wright stood inside the doorway of my tent, dressed nicely in simple off-white dresses. Hazel held a camera as they both smiled at me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I should ask the same thing,” Hazel said as she held up her camera. “I’m a volunteer photographer for the local newspaper this year. What about you?” She looked me over slowly. In an even softer voice, she said, “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”
Not expecting the compliment, I turned a little red. “I’m about to go on stage. I’m one of the performers.”
Lillian’s eyes went big, and she broke out in a toothy smile. “I knew you took music classes, but I had no idea you did this stuff.”
I glanced around the tent, feeling awkward. “It’s for a good cause,” I said in a low voice.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m helping too—for volunteer hours,” Lillian said. “Hope’s Embrace is one of my favorite foundations.” Her expression fell.
Hazel looked at her sister, her smile also disappearing. She cleared her throat and tried to smile, but it came off a little tight. Something had hit too close to home for them. I blinked hard, trying to not get sucked into their emotions. It was easy to empathize. I was too scared to ask them about it and knew it wasn’t my place to pry, so I pressed my lips together and waited them out, seeing how they were going to act moving forward.
Hazel blew out a breath and raised a camera. “Mind if we get a picture of you? Are you going to play an instrument? Sing?”
“I’ll be on the piano and then switch to guitar to sing a song.”
“That’s amazing,” Lillian said with a thick voice.
The next few minutes turned into a small photoshoot as Hazel snapped pictures of me and Lillian asked me questions about my role in the event and my history. It was weird to be talking so in depth with the two of them, but also a little easy. They were nice, talkative, but also knew when to back off.
It felt like we were close to something, maybe friendship. I would have never contemplated that before with anyone. Usually, I remained stoic, keeping a firm wall between me and others, but lately, I was starting to realize how isolated I made myself. And that was all because of the boys. So I talked with them and wondered how’d they fit in my life, if they did at all. But then the emcee was there, ending our short time together, and I was forced to go back into performer mode.
“Are you ready, Miss Wiles?” Mr. Shanon asked. As the emcee for the night, he had a deep musical baritone that easily drew attention and silenced even the chattiest of the donors. He was a man who demanded attention and had a way of thanking you for giving it with the way he spoke. Mr. Shanon was a head taller than me with peppered hair fighting between black and gray. For an older man, he aged well, still very much swoon worthy. That was all part of his allure as an emcee.
I nodded before turning to the Wright sisters. “Thank you for talking with me. It helped and it was nice talking with you.”
“I’m glad we ran into you,” Lillian said. “I know we probably threw you off when we announced that you were our new friend. We are sincere though. We want to be your friend.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“Why not?” Hazel asked. “I’ve been observing you for a while. It’s part of being obsessed with photography. And I noticed more of you last year. You keep your head down, but you’re also genuine. You don’t get swept away with drama or trends or anything. You’re brutally yourself, and I say that in a good way.”
