Page 107 of Not Another Love Song

She pressed her lips together and thought of how Nathan took credit for Mabel’s work. Maybe she should play that violin solo and tell the world who wrote it. A petty voice in her loved that.

But it wasn’t her story to tell. Or her composition. She thought of the accompaniment to Alex’s love song. The melody she’d played in his studio while they stared at each other, in the moments before he said he loved her.

“I don’t…I don’t think there is anything.” She looked down. “I could play a solo, but not an original composition, no.”

“All right,” Nathan said with a bright grin. “Think about it and let me know. Original compositions will always please the audience, though.”

He squeezed her shoulder and went to talk with the stage manager. The numbness that had been taking over for weeks suddenly melted. She stared at Nathan as he worked with the orchestra for the rest of the day. If original compositions always please the audience, then why was Mabel and Ava’s composition “not a good fit” for the Pops all those years ago?

Gwen felt a fire brewing in her stomach. She looked around at the orchestra—at Henry, who didn’t joke with her anymore, at Diane, who tried to give her notes at the end of every rehearsal, at the brass section that no longer invited her to drinks. Was this her family? Was this worth losing Alex over?

The conversation with Mei rang in her ears as they played through “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” and an absolutely insane idea flared to life in her mind.

She needed to see Alex.

She needed to take it all back. No, she couldn’t leave the Pops for a rock group she wasn’t even part of. That was still unchanged in her mind. But she didn’t need to have one or the other.

At the last fifteen-minute break, Gwen placed her violin in one of the lockers and took only her tote bag and coat. Mei saw her as she came out of the bathroom.

“Where you going, girl?”

Gwen turned to her, breathless. “I’m going to LA. I’m going to see Alex.”

“YES! GWEN, THIS IS SOME GOURMET LOVE STORY SHIT! YES—”

Clapping a hand over Mei’s flapping lips, she shushed her. “Don’t! Can you please just tell Nathan that I got sick and I had to go home? I just need to go. I’ll be back for tomorrow’s rehearsal, I promise.”

“Get your man, Gwen Jackson!” Mei jumped up and down as Gwen raced out of Carnegie Hall.

She hopped on an E train, and in forty-five minutes she was getting off at JFK. She went to the desk and took the next departing flight to LAX for two thousand dollars, all of the money she’d saved so far as first chair.

Once Gwen was settled into the middle seat in the back of the plane, she took a moment to really think about what she was doing. This flight would land at six-thirty. It would take an hour to get to the concert venue, which left her half an hour before Thorne and Roses took the stage. If she didn’t make it in the half hour, she could wait for him after.

The sudden realization that she was flying across the country to see Alex swept through her veins and dropped into her chest. She would get to hold him and breathe him in. She would get to smile at him and watch him smile at her in return.

The adrenaline of the past ninety minutes drained away from her, and she realized she had no plan. She couldn’t just walk through the backstage door at a U2 concert. She needed to let him know in advance.

The flight attendant over the speaker was already instructing passengers to put devices in airplane mode. Gwen quickly opened Instagram and messaged Dom.

Hey, I’m coming to the show tonight to see Alex. Can I get on a list? I’ ll be there at 7:30.

She waited for the bubble with the three dots until the flight attendant finally scolded her, and she turned off her phone. She relaxed back into the seat and watched a movie with penguins.

What did she want to say to Alex tonight? Take me back?— that wasn’t really it. She wanted to tell him he was right. She didn’t expect to join them onstage tonight, but she might tell him that she should have said yes and traveled the world with him.

She had Pops rehearsal tomorrow morning at ten a.m., but she couldn’t think of that now. All she could hear in her ears was the crowd of the Boston concert. All she could feel were the stage lights. She felt like she could finally breathe again, like she hadn’t had air since Nathan asked her to play a solo and pretend it wasn’t supposed to be Alex’s solo. Since before that.

The plane landed ten minutes early, and without a bag to pick up, Gwen walked straight to the taxis. She checked her Instagram messages and found a friendly thumbs-up from Dom about four hours ago along with a series of Cool! Is it a surprise? Should I tell him?

The taxi pulled up to the venue in record time, and the driver actually knew where the performers’ entrance was, regaling her with stories of which celebrities he had driven here before. They passed the electronic sign boasting U2’s promotional shots, and then it flashed to Thorne and Roses with a beautiful shot of Alex in black and the rest of them in red, all holding their instruments. Near the service entrance there were metal barricades up, keeping back the twenty or so people camping out with U2 signs, ready to miss the concert for the opportunity to see Bono at the stage door.

She paid the driver and stepped out onto the loading dock. There was a security guard at the front of the barricades, looking surly. When she reached him after the long walk down the drive, she said, “Hi, I’m hoping I’m on the list?”

“I’m sure you are,” he said sardonically.

She grimaced. “Uh, Gwen Jackson? Here for Thorne and Roses?”

He looked her over and said, “I don’t have you on the list.” He didn’t even consult a list.

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