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“There you are, you beautiful, magnificent creature,” I sang, walking toward the coveted mahogany Fender acoustic guitar. I picked it up, propping it against my body. Plucking a few chords, the sound filled the space. My body instantly relaxed into the sound.
But as always, the calm was immediately followed by a surge of sadness when I realized that the chords I was mindlessly picking were from the only song I ever managed to put out in the world. My heart twinged when I continued through the progression, feeling more and more drawn to the past with each string I plucked.
I was so young and full of life and had the drive to be a success. I spent a lot of time and effort creating that one song. Now, it was just a relic of the previous decade. Thalia Santana, the one-hit-wonder. Sure, it had been quite the hit and people still remember the song. But they don’t remember the person who brought it to life. They don’t rememberme.
Still, I had enormous love for this song. I had poured my whole being into this one piece.
Without thinking, I found myself quietly singing the familiar words for the first time in five years.
“Little girl, young and brave. Why is there sadness across your face?” The melody came back to me like an old friend… like someone I once knew like the back of my hand. “Have you ever seen the stars dim out? Don’t worry, that’s not what you’re about,”I continued as my heart began to swell in anticipation of the chorus.“Oh, so young, yet so worried. The world is yours if you just take it.”
My voice sounded pristine within the professional recording booth, as my mind raced a million thoughts. My fingers had retained their muscle memory all these years. I hadn’t played this song in forever, but somehow, I still knew every single chord.
“No, this isn’t something to misread. You’re that girl who’s gonna make it.”
A couple heartfelt strums later, the song finished, and I let out a deep breath I didn’t know I was holding.
Wordlessly, I put the acoustic guitar back in its stand and proceeded to do the rest of my work. It was fun playing my old song again, but that wasn’t what I was about anymore, and I knew…
“So, you’re a songwriter?” Damian’s voice sliced through my thoughts like a knife to a movie screen, slamming me back to the present.
As I turned around, I saw him standing at the door of the recording booth. My cheeks burned red with embarrassment. There was no hiding from this now.
And this man, this unfairly gorgeous, bright star of a man, kept showing up unannounced and surprising me. It was almost like the universe was daring him to remember me.
“I…uh. Something like that, yeah.” The flames coloring my cheeks burned even hotter. I tried to mask my discomfort by clearing my throat and acting cool.
Damian just stared at me, like he was analyzing me and seeing right through the emotionless outer shell.
His eyes narrowed, and he simply let out a small hum.
“Well, it was good, all things considered. It sounds familiar,” he said and looked like he was trying to place it. But I knew the highly-produced version of the song that had hit the radio sounded nothing like what I’d just played on the guitar. He finally gave up and walked back to the front of the studio.
“Um, thank you?” I wasn’t used to Damian being nice, giving me compliments. Usually, he expressed nothing but either indifference or annoyance – or he was the one being annoying.
I followed Damian to the front, where he was once again on a couch, and scrolling through his phone.
“Do you need any other instruments set up for today?”
“Hmmm…” Damian let out, not even looking up at me. “Honestly, I don’t think we’ll needanyinstruments today,” he said, standing up and going to the exit without waiting for me to say anything.
“Okay. May I ask why? Aren’t you working today?” I asked as quickly as I could, trailing behind him as he walked out into the hallway. It kind of irked me that I spent all morning setting up when it wasn’t even needed today.
Damian’s long legs strode down the hallway. Even at a moderate pace, it was impossible for me to keep up.
“We have a meeting. Didn’t you know? Everyone got an email, so you should have it on your calendar.” He sounded annoyed again. Something inside of me felt better. Things felt more…balanced when Damian was an asshole.
“I must have missed it. When was it sent?” My voice clearly showed a hint of irritation, but like everything else about me, he didn’t seem to notice.
“About two minutes ago, Thalia. I’m gonna need you to keep up.” I froze mid-step. Oh my God, this man was definitely going to make me lose it one of these days. I silently reminded myself that I could not punch Damian Apollo in the face, no matter how obnoxious he was. He left me standing in the hallway and I raced to catch up, running a hand through my hair out of exasperation.
Ten minutes later, I was in the most important room at Blue Guitar. The main conference room was filled with executives seated around it, while I stood on the side with the other lowly employees. Damian was, of course, at the head of the table. Jackson was on his left side, but strangely, his right side had an empty seat and no one seemed to be taking it.
Sadie was sitting at the table, furiously typing on her laptop, busy as ever.
The person that really caught my attention was the man close to the head of the table who clearlythoughthe was in charge. Since our encounter in Damian's office, I had tried to forget the fact that they had been working so closely together all these years.
“What a nice day for a meeting, huh?” Kurt’s obnoxious voice boomed throughout the meeting room, and just hearing it gave me stress.
