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A small hand sneaks through mine and I look down to caramel eyes gleaming up at me. Lulu. My best friend’s adopted six-year-old daughter who stole all our hearts the second we met her. I take a deep breath in and exhale it out slowly. I manage a small smile and she returns it.
“Damon loved you, sweet girl,” I whisper down to her. She nods her head.
“I loved him too.”
The sounds of sniffles and cries remind me of where we are. I glance at Addison in the front row and she’s wiping tears from her cheek. Her lips curve up and she sends me a supportive nod. When Lulu begins to sing, the air goes silent and still. Our eyes meet and her pitch rises. I hum the melody.
The song is perfect.
The song is Damon.
Our voices blend in harmony as we sing “Lost Boy” by Ruth B. My voice cracks when we sing about him being home now. My heart breaks open and my emotions surge through me in a fractured instant. I swallow my cries, determined to get through the song. But it’s no use. My heart’s not broken now, I am.
Goodbye, Lost Boy.
Emotions ricochet inside my body as I sing the song that broke me over a year ago. I feel the vise around my heart, squeezing it, the pain making it hard to breathe. I gasp for air, hanging onto the mic. Music is no longer my lifeline. Stars float in my vision right before blackness pulls me under.
Chapter Three
Sydney
“Put her down.” Graham’s voice echoes in my head.
A ball of worry twists in my stomach. I can’t open my eyes and face what happened. Strong arms cradle me, carrying me backstage. Max smells the same as always. Spicy and clean with a mixture of woodsy scents. I lean my head into his chest and his arms tighten.
“Security! Where the hell is security?” Graham’s voice raises a few octaves. I can imagine how red his face is. “Sky, don’t worry, I won’t let him hurt you.”
“Who the fuck is this guy?” Max murmurs, rejecting all of Graham’s threats.
“My manager,” I whisper.
The crowd cheers in the background when I overhear the MC say my name. Those cheers have kept me going in the past, but I can’t go back out there. I’m mortified I passed out. Max kicks open the door and places me on a couch. It’s not until my head touches a pillow, I open my eyes and notice we’re in my dressing room.
Graham runs to my side, struggling to get in between me and Max. “Would you move, you big oaf.” He shoulders his way in. “Sky, are you all right?” I cover my face with my arms, tears stain my cheeks. No, I’m not all right. I’m a wreck. “Do I need to get a doctor? What hurts? Are you sick?”
“Dude, get the hell out of her face and give her a chance to catch her breath.”
I open my mouth to tell Max it’s okay, but Graham stands up and gets in his face. He’s about the same height as Max, but the similarities stop there. He weighs as much as one of Max’s legs. I sit up, debating if I should get in between them. Max regards him with humor in his eyes and crosses his arms.
“Dude? Who are you? If you’re expecting money for helping…” He pauses and pulls out his wallet. “Here, this should be enough. Thanks. You can go now.” He shoves a twenty-dollar bill in Max’s hand, whips around and kneels beside me. I pull my lips in to hide my chuckle that he just tried to pay off a millionaire. “Sky, we need to have you examined by a doctor.”
I glance up at Max and his intense stare makes me fidget. Folding my hands in between my legs, I glance away. Graham sighs and turns, casting his eyes up to Max. “Why are you still here?”
Max doesn’t take his gaze off me. “Why does he keep calling you Sky?”
Because I didn’t want to be Sydney. It was exhausting being the person who lost everything. Being someone else was a way to start over. Graham knows my real name, but he’s under contract never to use it again. When he convinced me the sky was the limit with my singing career, Sky was born.
“It’s just a name.” I keep my eyes down, messing with the edge of my shorts.
“I’m guessing you two know each other?” Graham says, pushing off the couch to stand. I nod. He lets out a long sigh. “I’ll see if I can find Jude.”
“I’m sorry, G.”
“Don’t be. You were already at the end of your set. Everyone stumbles. You just get back up and move on.” He leans down, kisses me on the forehead and leaves the room.
The first couple months of living with Graham, I would wake to a sticky note on my bathroom mirror with a motivational saying on it. He’s never asked questions nor expected anything from me. Unlike the man staring at me, sucking the air out of the room.
“Can you just go back and tell her I’m okay?”
