Our lyrics played in my head over and over again as I tried to calm my nerves and get into the zone.
“Three minutes!” a stagehand yelled as an assistant buckled my high-heels into place.
I kept my eyes closed, trying to separate myself from the mayhem around me.
“Two minutes!”
The crew led me to the side-stage where a sound assistant was standing with my guitar in hand.
“Everything is plugged in. Don’t trip on the cord as you walk out there,” he instructed while another person simultaneously fitted the sound monitor into my ear.
Deep breaths were my saving grace.
“30 seconds!”
I inhaled deeply and glanced across the stage. Jason’s sharp features were visible just behind the curtain. As soon as the lights dimmed and the curtain fell we’d walk out and take our places. His eyes locked with mine and he nodded once, giving me a piece of confidence that I dearly needed.
“Showtime,” the stagehand yelled, gently nudging me up the stage stairs.
…
My heels hit the stage and I walked to my mark, the light gray “x” sitting in the very center of the dark wood floor. My hands shook and I tried to will my breathing to settle. Once we met in the middle of the stage, I glanced up at Jason. He looked so sure of himself, confident enough for the both of us.
“Breathe, Princess,” he whispered as he reached for my hand, gripping it tightly and offering me a piece of reassurance just as the heavy curtain started to lift and the house lights dimmed.
I knew Cammie was sitting out in the audience watching me. I knew millions of people were tuning in for our performance, anxious to see our first duet. My breaths were quick and uneven, my heart was racing, my stomach was knotted in a tight ball, but my hands— they knew what to do.
The moment I settled my guitar into place and my fingers fell over the chords, everything became clear and simple.
Five…
Four…
Three…
Two…
I strummed the opening chords as Jason tapped his foot to the beat. The duet began with a short solo, the crowd focused on my fingers as they danced across the fretboard. Then Jason gripped the microphone with both hands, closed his eyes, and sang the first lines, stealing the attention, and the hearts, of everyone watching.
Something about you caught me by surprise
Though I always knew you’d be my demise
I didn’t want you to love me
Didn’t want you thinking of me
So I kept my distance
Tried to ignore your existence
I was blinded by my pride
With you, the Jekyll to my Hyde
But that’s where you found me
Baby, that’s where you unwound me
I joined him for the chorus, our voices blending together. Jason’s voice was deeper than mine, but he had notes of a natural tenor. His range was a little less expansive, but it was obvious why our label had wanted us to collaborate. It took hardly any effort on our part to combine our pitches into a perfect harmony.
Loving you would be as easy as taking a breath
But to look at you, that’s a dance with death
I’d risk it all,
For you I would
You’d make me fall,
And fall I would
Loving you would be as easy as taking a breath
But to be by you, that’s a dance with death
I turned to Jason as I sang the next lyrics. Our eyes locked as I poured passion into the words. The audience was there, but they weren’t the ones I was singing to anymore.
I thought once was enough
You turned to me and called my bluff,
Maybe I should have walked away
but I couldn’t resist, I needed replay after replay
Loving you would be as easy as taking a breath
But to give you up, that’s a dance with death
We were over from the start
I never said I’d give my heart
So now it’s time for this to end
After all, a friend is just a friend
Loving you would be as easy as taking a breath
But to give you up, that’s a dance with death
So now it’s time for this to end
After all, a friend is just a friend
Chapter Thirty-One
The music faded out as the crowd began to cheer. Claps and whistles rang out across the stadium and I pulled the monitor out of my ear so that I could hear them all. I knew they’d cut to a commercial break because that’s how we’d rehearsed it, so I relaxed and took my first relieved breath of the day.
We’d done it.
We’d sung our duet, and sadly, I knew I’d never be able to sing alone again, not knowing how much better it could be with Jason by my side.
I turned to look at him, to share a glance that only we could understand, but when I did, I saw that he was still holding his guitar, with his monitor in place and his pick between his fingers.
I hadn’t noticed him continuing to strum his guitar at first. It was impossible to hear over the noise of the stadium, but then the calls and the whistles died down. The crowd realized, just as I did, that Jason’s song wasn’t over.