Playing Autumn (Breathe Rockstar Romance Book 1) (23 page)

“And done that, sure.” Oliver looked him over again and noticed something else. The kid had done some reflecting of his own, for sure. They all did. If these students were his past, then someone like Oliver was his future.

Might have scared him like shit.

“Let’s hang out when this is over,” Oliver said. “I’ll tell you anything you need to know. But you might want to have your security tell the girls outside to go back home. It can’t be safe out there.”

“They don’t really sleep out there,” Trey said. “They’re on couches and sleeping bags at fellow Treynatic houses in the area, in shifts. But yeah, they shouldn’t be out there. I let my people decide what to do when it gets like this.”

Treynatic.
The guy said it without context, as if Oliver would know what that meant. But Oliver did understand, and he knew that what Trey was trying to say, but couldn’t, was that he didn’t know where the line actually was. He was on top of the world, but also a puppet, and the puppet wasn’t sure if it was his place to stand out there on the street and tell people to go seek safe shelter.

“Not your fault.” Oliver offered a hand to the kid. “Let’s shake on it. And kill it onstage later.”

“Deal,” Trey said, leaning into the handshake and turning it into a hug.

Oliver did not expect that. “Hey, you said it was your mom’s birthday, right? Know where one can get flowers around here?”

***

When Oliver was finally called to set up, he found that the hotel's parking lot had been cleared to extend the concert area. Over a hundred Trey Girls were already huddled as close as they could to a velvet rope that kept them away from the stage that had been set up in the garden.

Victoria came up to him and showed him the set list. “We're bumping up Trey to first, even before the students perform, in case that makes the girls leave right away.”

He noticed that Haley was playing right before him. “Have you seen your friend today?”

Victoria pointed backstage. “She just got in. She was practicing somewhere offsite.”

This being a “small” concert, there was no green room, trailer, or bus with his choice of movies and candy bars. Oliver worked with the crew to set up what he needed for his song and had no other place to hang out but with the rest of the crowd. Some concession stands had set up, serving iced tea and fancy water, and Oliver found it best to stay at a comfortable point equidistant from those, the stage, and the growing mob of Trey Girls.

He only felt the need to move away from that spot when he spotted Arnie Bolton in the crowd.

“Mr. Bolton,” he said, catching up to the man.

“Oliver,” he replied. “You all set up?”

“Your people called my manager,” Oliver said. “I just found out.”

“He seems nice. Sounds like he’s from here too.”

“Yeah, he is. I said yes, as you probably know. Why didn’t you mention it to me yourself?”

“Sometimes when you’re my age, you don’t want to put people on the spot and say yes to your face to be polite,” Mr. Bolton said. “My shows aren’t as big as the stadiums you’ve been to, I’m sure.”

That used to be the bottom line, even for him. Don’t get eliminated. Don’t screw up your part. Sell out this stadium. Stay at the top of the charts. There was a time when he could do all of that without even thinking about it, but as it started to slip away, well, maybe it was his fault.

Maybe if he had better social skills. Knew how to deal with suits. Or smile and weasel a collaboration out of a pop star without having anyone resort to physical assault. But he worked in other ways.

He could accept that his life was going to change.

Unless he made changes of his own.

“That doesn’t matter to me anymore,” Oliver said. “My priorities are different now.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Thank you,” Oliver said. He was glad he was able to say it before someone else had grabbed Mr. Bolton’s attention on a more urgent matter. He made his way back to his spot again and saw Victoria taking the stage.

“So this weekend was something else, wasn’t it?” Victoria said, entirely comfortable on the stage. “We’d like to thank all of you here, students and mentors, the music lovers from Houston and apparently beyond. See you next year. First up, we have the man of the hour—Trey Lewis!”

scream scream screech squeal oh my Goooood

Oliver heard nothing else.

Trey worked that stage better than Oliver ever did, by the way. It was no doubt less flashy than Trey's usual show, but he knew what his audience wanted, and he winked, swung his hips, and pointed at random ladies for good effect. Oliver said a silent prayer of thanks that he had been spared from this when he was younger, but then he remembered that he was probably going to be asked to do this to remain relevant as an older guy. And then the prayer became one for strength.

The festival’s featured students followed, one song each, after Trey. The crowd thinned considerably because Trey consented to a meet-and-greet, and Victoria gamely set one up for him at the other end of the parking lot. Only the friends and families of the students and mentors remained, probably half of what had been three hundred strong, but Oliver didn't mind. He was going to have to get used to this.

Some guys pushed the piano to the center of the stage, and Oliver realized that Haley was about to perform.

“Good evening, everyone,” she said, adjusting the microphone to her height as she sat on a stool that didn't match the piano. “I haven't played this song in a long time, but I thought it would be appropriate to do it this year.”

She got healthy applause from the audience. A familiar face to them, and a crowd favorite. She cleared her throat. “I'm here every year, but this time I really did feel like I went through the workshop experience too. Getting to decide, with everyone else here, what kind of music moves me, and why I love it.”

Her slender fingers, fingers he had come to enjoy watching, placed themselves on the keys. And started to play.

His throat almost closed up.
No, she isn't—

She found him and their eyes locked for a moment. Then her lips moved.

You said it had to happen/That you had to take it back

Your words, your dreams, your life

It was
his
song, the song from her video, the one he watched over and over and over.

Seeing the live version was even better, because she was
better
for some reason, and just like that night when he first discovered her, he felt that she took this song that no one else noticed and made it mean something.

Half the people in the crowd—the older ones—knew that it was his, and those who knew where he was standing turned to him to see how he was reacting. He probably had his mouth hanging open for half of it, but then he straightened up with a jolt.

He couldn't play
Hollow Couple
after
this
. It was a successful song, sure, but it meant nothing. It was a song he had crapped out in a night, and someone else oversaw its production, and he showed up at the studio and took direction from collaborators who knew how to make a hit. He was proud of it at the time, but it didn't mean anything. Not to Haley.

Where was that kid being mentored by Arnie Bolton? That kid had a violin.

Oliver found him backstage, helping Arnie pack up, and had to offer a cellphone photo in exchange for borrowing it for a few minutes. He made it to the waiting area for performers off stage right as she ended
Your Life
to enthusiastic applause.

Haley saw him there and bowed in his direction. It felt like a challenge.

Shit. This violin felt all wrong. It felt new, and a tad small, and
not his
.

This disorientation was ruining the surprise he had prepared for her, and he barely got to see it happen. As Haley walked down from the stage, John and Kari approached her with the biggest damn bouquet of lilies and roses he had ever seen. It glowed yellow and red even from where he was standing. He and Trey took a short road trip together to buy that, courtesy of Trey’s limo and driver, but he chose the flowers himself.

She looked confused, and then surprised, and then she looked at him again and mouthed a thank you.

None of that was completely sinking in.
Goddamn this, how did that go again?
He knew what he had to play. After all this time, and everything it meant to him? It still wasn’t in his comfort zone. Thinking about it, preparing to play it, still set him on edge.

He walked to the center of the stage as they wheeled off the piano. Someone handed him Cornelia, but he shook his head and waved her off.

“So,” Oliver said, addressing the crowd. “Hi, Houston. It's good to be home.”

That wasn't a ploy, by the way, to get the crowd on his side. He was sincere about that, and maybe they bought it.

He held up the violin by the neck, gently, and willed it to cooperate. “I hope you don't mind if I go for nostalgia tonight. I haven't been back home in years, and I feel the urge right now to prove that I'm the same person I was way back when. Everyone okay with that?”

He looked over at Haley, and she was biting her lower lip. She already knew what he was going to do. Or try to do.

“
L'autunno
,” from Vivaldi's
Le quattro stagioni.
Autumn
, the piece that started his career.

He pulled the violin up and went for it.

His fingers knew this. His head not so much anymore, and he was a quarter of a beat off whenever he tried to think about it, so he stopped thinking. And then he was remembering, practicing at Mama's house, practicing at Madame Francesca's, practicing before that talent show episode that had turned everything around. He recognized his “home stretch” when he reached it, near the middle of the third movement, when his breathing relaxed and he knew that he got this. A few bumps at the beginning, but he got this.

Yeah, this was what he was about. Not sure what that meant for his future, but this was what he had forgotten that he was.

He was still hearing the applause in his ears as he ran down the stage and pulled Haley to the back and kissed her. He could barely feel her body because of the ginormous bouquet, but he made sure he had her mouth, and he wasn’t shy about it. There was squealing again, but of a milder intensity than the Trey Girls, because a section of the audience still saw them even though he thought he had pulled them all the way behind the wall.

“You’re crushing the flowers,” Haley said.

“You’re amazing.” To hell with the flowers. “And not because I wrote that song, but damn. Thank you. I needed that. And independently of that, you’re amazing.”

“At least you didn’t do that other song,” she retorted, eyes bright. “I’m glad you remembered that you still got it.”

“I didn’t.” He was still high, naturally, breathless. “I didn’t know what would happen when I went up there. But thank you.”

He kissed her again, which brought on more background squeals, but by then they no longer cared.

Chapter 30

Monday

When Breathe Music was successful, as it usually was, Mondays were always a bit of a downer. Mentors, students, volunteers, all lingering at various spots in the hotel, catching up, saying goodbye, promising to write or call. Like camp. In Haley and Victoria’s case, they did stay in touch after that first year together. Sometimes it was worth it, finding that one person crazier than you in that huddle. (Victoria obviously thought the same of her.)

Cass, on the other hand…Haley felt she had to say something. So she called, that morning, as she was waiting for the car that would take them to the airport. She gave herself a pep talk beforehand and told herself not to get mad or say anything stupidly hurtful for whatever reason.

“I’m not getting back together with Logan,” she announced to her friend matter-of-factly.

“I know, he told me,” Cass said. “I’m really sorry about how this turned out, Haley.”

“Why do I feel like I let you down?”

“You didn’t.” To her credit, Cass sounded apologetic. “I know I stepped out of line. I really did believe I was helping Logan do something you really wanted. You know I mean well.”

It was better that Cass wasn’t actually in front of her, because the weekend was already too much. Haley didn’t mind hiding behind a phone call for this. “I know you do, Cassie. I wonder if maybe we need to reconnect, you know, since it’s been so long.”