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I saw nothing but your eyes
You stole nothing but my heart
I forgot to ask your name
You forgot to give my soul
Back to me.
I no longer feel tired.
I’m elated and full of energy, the strange feeling of my chest bursting with light.
I’ve found Eden’s eyes beyond the spotlight, and I’m singing to her. No, I don’t sing. I pour my soul out to her. My soul is bleeding from my lips down the stage’s polished floor, dripping down the stairs, spilling at her feet. And Eden just stands there, completely focused on the song, oblivious to me fighting for my life right in front of her.
Jude and I harmonize the chorus again and Eden goes so red, it reaches the roots of her hair. How I don’t slam my hand over my microphone, leap down from the eleven-foot stage and kiss the breath out of her, I don’t know.
At some point, I leave my body and start floating above it, screaming at myself to keep it together. My lips start the bridge ofLittle Bird.
Who knew life could break u?
Who knew life would suck?
Who knew these little broken wings
Would turn into scars?
Every single person here is singing along, including Skye and Miki.
Everyone, except her. She’s not singing; my ears are trained on her—if a single sound escaped her lips, I would have caught it. So I know she’s not singing, not a single lyric. But.
I see her lips mouthing my words as I sing them and my arms get covered in goosebumps. There’s a girl standing next to her, her arm looped around Eden’s shoulders.Wait, is it Lou? What on earth—?
“Have you forgotten the lyrics?” Jude sneers behind me, because I take a split second too long to start the final verse.
I ignore him and sing it, my eyes on Eden.
When I’m done with the verse, I slowly fold to my knees and everyone claps so loudly, you’d think the stadium was full already. Jude does his solo on his guitar and I struggle to find the voice to help him out in a minute, when the chorus will start. I’m drenched in sweat from head to toe—my sleeveless jersey needs to be wrung out. I don’t know how I’ll ever find the strength to climb to my feet.
“Get up, grandpa,” Jude says, but his eyes aren’t smiling. “You ok?”
“Eden,” I murmur, “Eden and Lou? What the hell?”
“I saw them too,” he replies, his attention on his guitar. He’s making that thingweep. How he can talk to me and create such music at the same time is a mystery to me. I’ve always said that I’m the least talented out of all the people I work with. “World’s gone crazy, man. Do you need me to come over there and pick you up personally?” I shake my head, chuckling.
The sky is velvet black with a huge, yellow summer moon.They must have a different moon here, I think stupidly. I never remember seeing it as big back home.
“Hey, watch your step,” Jude says as I try to get up and stumble badly. “I’ll have to take you out for two days’ rest on the boat before the show,” he murmurs to himself. “You’re in no state to start the tour.”
“The boat,” I say dreamily, still on my knees. “I did this whole tour for the sake of that boat. Did I tell you that, J? And am I on it right now? I mean everything is swaying as if we’re on a boat. But we aren’t, are we?”
“You’re high out of your mind,” Jude replies. “No, man, you’re not on a boat. Concentrate, ok? Get up and sing this chorus with me so I’m not completely humiliated, and then you can fall face first into your bed. Ok?”
So we start the chorus.
Little bird
Little wounded bird
