by Elle Bennett
Without a word spoken
I knew she’d leave me heartbroken
This won’t be the end of our story
No
I won’t let it be the end
“My Favorite Month,” Peristerophobia
I nodded at Andrew and left my piano on the little stage. I wished everyone would stop staring at us. The noise of the room started up again as we sat down at a table, and our conversation blended in as one of the many.
“I’d wondered what happened to that piano. I’d hoped you took it with you,” he said.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Good, it was meant to be yours. I’m glad you’re using it,” he said. My face was red. “You sounded incredible, by the way. You know, you used to tell me that there was a magic energy in the air when I performed, and I’m positive you have that magic energy, too. But it’s way more intense with you.”
I smiled and bit my lip.
“I can’t compare to Peristerophobia.”
“You made the entire fucking crowd go silent when you sang. The emotions in your voice were incredible, and more than anything, I could tell you meant what you were singing. Your passion for the song showed, and it brought everyone to their knees. It brought me to my knees, at least.
“I practiced a lot,” I said.
“Practice is a huge part of it, sure. But the combination of talent and practice? God, April. You’re so talented. And don’t you fucking dare brush that compliment off and pretend like it’s not true.”
“No, I won’t. I’m starting to come to terms with the whole thing.”
“Good. So, I take it that you wrote that song?” he asked. I nodded. “No help from anyone else? Like, say, a new boyfriend?”
“No, I’m taking some time to myself. No guys for a while. Nothing makes me feel quite like making music does, so I think it’s time to embrace it and go where the wind takes me.”
He looked at me the same way he used to before he kissed me. I looked down at the table, telling myself that I needed to break our eye contact. I wasn’t ready to kiss him again. I didn’t want him to kiss me again. I wasn’t sure if I’d even allow myself to ever go there again. I’d made a decision between him and the music, and I’d chosen the music. Even if he wanted me, it wasn’t going to happen.
“Do you think that wind could take you to, say, a recording studio with Peristerophobia?”
“I would definitely consider that.”
He smiled.
“We could talk about it with the guys, I may have bad mouthed you a little to some people after we broke up, but I could easily get them back to your side by having them listen to that song.”
“Seriously? You went around bad mouthing me? What the fuck, Andrew?”
“I was mad!” he argued. And, well, he did have a right to be mad at me. I fucked up with him, and I knew it. I still rolled my eyes at him, though.
“But you still want me in Peristerophobia?”
“What can I say? I’m a sucker for a girl who can play the piano and sing. You’ve blown me away, and I have to have your sound in my band. I’ve wanted it for a long time,” he said. “Please, as long as the guys still want you in the band, will you join us officially?”
I looked down at the table and straightened the sugar packets that sat in front of us in a basket. They were all facing the same way, words matching up exactly. I looked back up at him.
“Just to make sure, this has nothing to do with the fact that I used to blow you, right? You only want me in the band for my talent?” I asked.
“Of course. I never would have invited you into the band just because I fucked you.” He ran his fingers through his hair. He clearly needed another haircut. He let out another sigh. “I’m sorry I was an asshole to you. I should have kept in better contact while I was on tour. I should have tried harder to keep you happy.”
“Andrew, we both know that the break up was me. I’m sorry I was such a bitch.”
“Don’t apologize for being yourself,” he said. He laughed a little, and I knew he was kidding, but I crumpled up a nearby napkin and tossed it at him. It bounced off his nose and I laughed with him.
He placed his hand on my chin and lifted my face up to have eye contact with him again. God, I hoped he wasn’t going to kiss me. I wasn’t sure if I could actually resist his mouth on mine. I might forget everything I promised myself. I bit my lip and he dropped his hand to the table.
“You’re serious about the no-guys thing?” he asked.
“Yeah, I am.”
“That sucks. I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Andrew. But I can’t be with you.”
“Oh my God, just kiss her already!” I heard Joan yell from across the room.
“Please don’t,” I said with a laugh. I hoped I didn’t look as awkward as I felt.
“I won’t. But I will do this.”
He placed his hand in mine, and my heart sped up as his fingers grazed against mine. They intertwined, like they’d done so many times before. I gave him an apologetic smile as I moved my hand away from his and placed it in my lap.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“I’m going to win you back,” he said confidently.
“Sure,” I said sarcastically. “If you say so.”
He leaned closer to me, his elbows on the table.
“I’m not going to stop loving you, April. You can do your no-guys thing. But eventually, you’re going to want to fuck someone again. And when you do, I’ll be right there, next to you on stage, next to you in the recording studio. That is, as long as you say yes to joining Peristerophobia.”
I rolled my eyes. He would be there, but I wouldn’t give in. I’d said yes to life as a musician, but I would not date another musician. I would not have sex with anyone in the industry. It was my new rule, and I was going to stick to it. There was no way I’d stray. Andrew was my ex, and he would stay that way, whether or not he liked it.
“Of course I’ll join your band.”
He jumped out of his seat and cheered.
“Woo! She said yes!”
A few people clapped and said “congratulations!” I saw Joan’s wide eyes from across the room. I shook my head at her with an incredulous look.
“To joining his band,” I clarified loudly.
“I’ve written so many duets lately,” he said. “I can’t wait to talk to the guys about this. They’re going to be on board, I’m sure. Ken would much rather have you sing the duets with me. I don’t think he was looking forward to our next album if he did the other vocals.”
I laughed and nodded.
“It’s probably for the best that I join, then.”
Andrew pulled out his phone and sent a text.
There was still that part of me that was nervous about being my mother’s daughter, nervous that I wouldn’t have made it to where I was without fucking Andrew. And maybe that was how I got to where I was, but it wasn’t going to be how I stayed there. I had him to thank for getting back to my roots, doing what I was meant to do. And if he wanted me in his band, yes, I would join them. I loved their music, and I wanted to join them in their journey. It felt like the right move for me.
And if someday the band broke up, I could go off and do my own thing. I believed in myself more than I ever had before, and I knew, deep down, that I would not turn out like Cassidy. I was not my mother’s daughter. I would not have a flop of an album. My music would be heard and loved by many.
I tried not to think about the fact that being in Peristerophobia meant that Cassidy might be able to find me again. That she might try to use me to worm her way back into the industry. That I might have to handle seeing her again. But it was the life I wanted, and I wasn’t going to let her take it away from me.
“They all said yes,” Andrew said. “Practice is Thursday afternoon.”
“I’ll be there.”
Coming soon from Elle Bennett:
Book two in the LPD Records series
Three Ch
ords & the Truth
About the author
Elle Bennett lives in Knoxville, Tennessee with her two cats and her husband.
She can often be found with a cup of tea and a good book.
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