by Tori Fox
Mason pulls me into one of the recording rooms and pushes me onto a couch. He grabs two beers out of a small fridge in the room and hands one to me. “How’s the eye?”
“Hurts like a bitch.”
“I bet.” He takes a swig. “So, you really want to marry Anna? You just moved in together.”
I adjust the ice on my face. “I didn’t mean to say that.”
“But you meant it.”
I nod. We haven’t been together that long but I cannot deny the fact I want to spend my life with her.
“I’m glad you found her, Noah. I mean it.”
I meet Mason’s stare and nod. “I never thought I would find someone like her. I just hope I can get her back.”
“You will,” he says matter-of-factly. He takes another sip of his beer. “Tell me about Claire. And don’t give me some bullshit answer. Carson wouldn’t be so locked down on the situation if it was nothing.”
I pull the ice off my eye and squint. It’s gonna hurt even worse in the morning. “I don’t know, man. It’s nothing.”
“Bullshit. If it was nothing, you wouldn’t have me picking you up in an alleyway.”
Mason’s right but I can’t tell him what Carson did. I might be drunk but I have enough clarity to know that.
“I’m not letting you leave this room until you tell me. I won’t tell Hunter or Asher. Obviously I won’t tell Mom and Dad. But you pulled me into this situation.”
I rub my hand over my face trying to avoid my eye. “It’s complicated.”
“No shit.” Mason studies me while I sip on my beer. I put the ice back on my face and wince at the pain. “She looked weird, man.”
I look at him quizzically. Claire looked the same to me maybe more put together. She was well dressed and fashionable. It’s nothing new, she always looked presentable but she does have an air about her she didn’t have before. “What do you mean?”
“Dude, she was driving a Range Rover. Unless she won a bunch of money, she never could afford that with her job.”
Claire was a marketing assistant when we were married. “Maybe she got a good promotion.”
Mason rests his chin in his palm. “Maybe. But it also looked like she had a designer bag. She was dressed like she had a shit ton of money. When she left you, she didn’t take anything from your joint accounts.”
“How do you know that?”
“Carson told me.”
I close my eyes and rest my head on the back of the couch. “I don’t know. It’s weird. Everything. When Carson finally found her after a year, she was living in New Jersey.”
“Maybe she moved up to the east side. Found herself another man.”
I let out a deep breath. “I don’t know. Maybe. We can’t find shit on her right now.”
“Maybe Carson should have his P.I. look into marriage certificates for her.”
“This all sounds crazy. Claire was never crazy.”
Mason snorts. “Dude, she left you with a fucking note. If you don’t think that’s crazy, I don’t know what it is.”
I sip my beer. “I just want this to be over. I just want to be back in bed with Anna the day after her birthday. Everything was right that morning. Everything felt perfect.”
Mason stands and sits next to me on the arm of the couch. “You’ll get there again. I know you will.”
21
Anna
I grip the necklace around my neck. We are about to do our first showcase of the workshop and I am nervous as hell. There are record executives, musicians, Grammy nominated artists all sitting in the audience at the Bluebird Café. Yes, we have a showcase at the Bluebird. I honestly might shit myself.
I wish I could talk to Noah right now. He has a way of calming me, helping me re-center.
My fingers fumble with the raw stone. When I got to my hotel room and unpacked my suitcase I found the necklace inside. Noah must have put it in when he took my suitcase to the car. It was wrapped inside a piece of paper with a note.
I love you. Knock ‘em dead. I’ll be waiting for you.
XO Noah
It was a short and simple note but it’s given me so much faith in us. Between the note and his endless barrage of texts and voicemails, I know that what we have is true. I know our love will win. But I need this time and space away from him. I need it to balance my life.
And a week without him has only proven that I need him. I need him so badly. He is my rock. My protector. My hero.
“Anna May Cooper, you’re up next,” says a man wearing all black and a headset.
I shake out my nerves letting go of my necklace and following the man into the back of the building and into a side door in the corner of the room.
The Nashville Songwriters Association didn’t want us to watch others perform until we did so we wouldn’t get nervous. Of course, this place doesn’t have much room to begin with. I don’t know if it helped at all because my whole body is tingling.
I watch the young singer ahead of me finish his performance. He is amazing. He is so young, barely twenty but he has a deep southern twang to his voice and he is easy on the eyes. He wants to be a star and I am sure he will get there one day. Most of the people accepted into the workshop want to be songwriters and musicians but there are a few who want to be the ones on stage singing the songs. They all have a one-up on other up-and-comers since they all have an amazing ability to write music.
I take a deep breath as everyone applauds for the last performer. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I shouldn’t check it. I should leave it alone but part of me hopes that it will be Noah. I don’t care what he has to say but just a few words from him would make me feel better. He stopped texting me two days ago and I worry what the reason may be.
Mason: Don’t fuck up.
I laugh as I read his text. It came at the perfect time. The nerves diminish a little as I laugh over his text. I told him earlier that today was the first showcase and he kept telling me not to forget the words to my song.
After today, we have smaller showcases every night depending on if we are invited to them. Artists and record executives will invite you based off tonight’s performance if they want to hear more of what we have to offer.
I put my phone in my pocket and am directed on to the stage. Rather than play guitar tonight, my usual choice, I am playing piano. Almost every other person here is playing guitar and I want to stand out.
I don’t let myself look at the audience as I walk onto the small stage. The lights are dim but you can still see everyone’s faces.
I take a seat at the piano and inhale deeply.
This is it.
This is my moment.
I adjust the microphone in front of me. “Hello, I am Anna May Cooper. This is a song I wrote this week called ‘Don’t Let Me Walk Away.’”
I had so many songs I could have sang tonight. I could have sung one of the three I brought with me to work on this past week. But instead I chose a new song. A song that came to me as I sat on the floor of the shower in my hotel crying over Noah Wednesday night.
It was the first song I took out of my notebook on Thursday when I went to the workshop. I worked with one other person on it. Not to find the lyrics but just to help with the melody. The mentors told me it was a risk singing the song. That I needed more time developing it. I needed to sing something more universal to catch more attention.
But I knew I needed to sing from my soul. Sing the song that I can feel all the way into the deepest part of my bones. A song I will never sell to anyone but know that it will get me the attention I need.
I take one more deep breath as I play the first few haunting chords of the song. I hum along to the melody, an off key crescendo to bring out the tension in the song.
I close my eyes and let myself sing the words pouring from my heart.
It was a cold December day when you found me
Like the nights I spent crying all alone
I never thought he would haunt me
But the ghosts were real and kept me in the cold
I spent seven years lost out in the wild
Finding the words to feed my soul
But all I came up with was dust and ash
The memories fighting for control
I pound on the keys of the piano as the words echo through the room. I keep my eyes closed, focused on the feel of the music but when I hit the chorus and belt it out, I finally turn to the audience.
Don’t let me walk away from you
Don’t let me be the one to say goodbye
I never should have left the way I did
I didn’t mean to make you cry
I need you here next to me
Instead I sit here alone
I don’t know why I walked away without a word
So don’t let me walk away from you
I hum along to the melody, let the raspiness build in my throat as I approach the bridge to the song.
I need you now
I need you gone
I would rather be alone
I’m a mess
I’m a wreck
I was the one who never should have left
and I don’t know why
I don’t know why
So don’t let me walk away from you
Don’t let me be the one to say goodbye
I never should have left the way I did
I didn’t mean to make you cry
I need you here next to me
Instead I sit here alone
I don’t know why
I don’t know why
I don’t know why I walked away without a word
So don’t let me walk away from you
My fingers press into the final chords of the song and let them ring out as I sing the last lines. My voice cracking with the pain I feel.
I was the one who never should have left
and I don’t know why
I don’t know why
I blink as I turn to face the audience, a silence ringing through the room. Maybe I fucked up. Maybe my mentor was right and I should have played something more upbeat. But in my heart I knew the song was right. I feel a tear on my face and I wipe it away. I had no idea I was crying during my performance.
I stand ready to thank them when someone stands up and starts clapping. Soon after another person stands, followed by another. Within seconds the whole room is on their feet. I nearly forget to breathe as I take it in. My hand grips my necklace saying a silent prayer to Noah. Without him I never would have written that song. The sorrowful story of a love gone wrong and the fear to make it right. It was a mix of us and our past relationships. Everything that brought us together.
I smile at the crowd thanking them one last time as I am gestured off the stage. I head to the bar where there is a tiny space in the corner for all the students to stand when we finish.
I order a lemon martini and chug it. My nerves and excitement making me anxious. A few of the other students congratulate me and tell me I sounded amazing.
I order another martini as I listen to the other seven students perform. When they finish the lights come on and everyone starts mingling.
My mentor, a producer by the name of Austin, grabs me and hugs me tightly against his chest. “Well I’ll be damned. I was wrong. That was amazing. Astounding. You stole the attention of everyone in this room, Anna May. I was blown away.”
I look up at him and smile. It feels like my smile is taking up my entire face. “I haven’t felt that kind of energy in so long, Austin. I felt like I was singing with The Sparrows again. That raw, gritty honest singing.” I clutch my hands to my chest hoping to calm the beating of my heart. “I just can’t believe—”
“Anna May Cooper?” a voice says behind me.
I look up at Austin who is smiling wide at whoever is behind me. I turn around and come face to face with one of the biggest record executives here. “That’s me.”
“I just want to say I was so impressed by your performance tonight. I read on your dossier that you are just a songwriter but I think you belong on that stage.”
My smile breaks a bit at that. As much as my love for the stage seems to be coming back, it’s not the life I want to live. “Thank you, Mr. Cohen. I appreciate that. But I had my time on the stage. I would rather just write the songs.”
He shakes my hand. “Well believe me, Anna May, if that’s what you want to do then I have no doubt you will be doing it soon. I look forward to seeing you later this week.”
I say goodbye as he goes off to talk to someone else and I nearly shriek. “Did that just happen?” I ask Austin.
He puts an arm around my shoulder. “Anna May, that really just happened. I think it’s time we all celebrated. Let’s hit those honky tonks! I am sure my phone will be flooded with requests for you the rest of the night and into tomorrow.”
My excitement is overwhelming. I want to call Noah. I need to hear his voice. I need to tell him everything that has happened. But then I think of Claire and my mood deflates. What if he is with her? What if he changed his mind about me?
We end up hitting some of the bars on Broadway. It’s about eight of the students, a few mentors, and Austin and his wife. Austin keeps doing a little dance for me every time he gets an email from someone wanting to see me. I shake my head at him and laugh as he does another one. So far at least twenty people want to see me again.
I order another martini, the buzz keeping my good mood up. One of the songwriters, a girl named Ashlynn, pulls me onto the dance floor to dance. I’m not much of a dancer but I laugh and throw my head back as we bask in the high of the night.
By the time we sit back down I feel sweaty as hell. I drink a huge glass of water as I talk to Austin about some of the details of the week to come. He says my schedule will be insane but that we will see every person we can to get this done. We still have to write two more songs this week as part of the workshop but I am not worried about all the stress and pressure. If it will keep my mind off calling Noah I will be happy.
Ashlynn orders me another martini as my phone rings. I look down to see Mason is calling me, and I excuse myself so I can head outside.
I hit the green button on my phone and before I can say a word, Mason starts talking my ear off. “Anna May, you either bombed completely and are tucking your tail between your legs and heading back home. Or you blew everyone away, like I said you would, and have a million people trying to spend time with you. Hell, you probably already hired an assistant and they are the one that answered your phone.”
I laugh at him as a warm breeze floats down the street. I push my curls behind my ear. “Nope, I haven’t been able to decide between the ten assistants that want to work for me,” I joke.
“I’m guessing you didn’t fuck up.”
I guffaw into the phone. “Thanks for the motivating text message by the way. Really made me want to do my best.”
I can feel Mason smiling through the phone. “I know what motivates you. Tell me what happened?”
I smile having trouble containing my excitement. “Mason, I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Well, let me guess, everyone was completely silent and in awe of your voice when you finished and then you got a standing ovation. The only one of the night.”
I look around confused as to how Mason knew all that and thought maybe he somehow was there, although I have no idea how that could have happened. “Umm.”
He chuckles into the phone. “People were tweeting all about your performance.”
“What?” I ask completely dumbfounded.
“Yeah, Anna May. You’re kind of a big deal already.”
I lean against the building in complete surprise from Mason’s words. “I don’t understand.”
“Not everyone there was in the industry. And I may know someone who knew someone who was there. I saw a video.”
“No one was supposed to be recording anything.” My heart beats wildly in my chest.
“Anna, you do know w
hat year it is, right? No one follows the rules.”
I bite my lip as anxiety starts to take over. “You heard the song?”
“Fuck yeah. It was intense and powerful and unrefined.”
I take a deep breath before I ask my next question. “Are you going to show it to Noah?”
He takes a few moments to respond and I worry he already sent him the video. “Only if you want me to.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“You know, Anna. I think you should let him hear it. Damn.” He pauses. “That song was incredible. And not one I ever heard you work on. And by the lyrics, I know you must have just written it. I think he needs to hear it.”
I rest my head against the wall and look up at the stars that are almost nonexistent in the light pollution. “I’m not sure if I’m ready.”
“For him to hear the song? Or for him to figure out you used it as your way of apologizing?”
I blink back a few tears that formed in my eyes. “Both.”
“He deserves to hear it.”
“I know.”
We are both silent for a few minutes. The only sound is the soft music filtering through the phone on his end and the revelry in the streets on mine.
“I’m proud of you, Anna. Noah would be proud of you too.”
“Thank you.”
“Keep doing whatever the hell it is you are doing there.”
I smile at that. “I’m just writing songs.”
“I think you are doing more than that.” Mason laughs. “I’ll let you get back to your night. Don’t party too hard.”
“I won’t.”
“Goodnight Anna.”
I contemplate just hanging up but my heart gets the best of me. “Hey Mase.”
“Yeah?”
“Tell him I love him.”
“You can do it yourself.”
I nod even though he can’t see me. “I know. But until I find the courage to. Tell him, please.”