Page 91 of Shattered Melodies

Jimmy’s expression softened. “Nobody’s saying you have to release an album tomorrow. But maybe think about it? This could be the start of something new, Liam. A way to process everything you’ve been through and create something beautiful out of it.”

As I mulled over his words, I realized he might have a point. The song had come from a place of raw honesty, a place I hadn’t allowed myself to visit in years. Maybe it was time to stop running from my past and start using it to fuel my future.

“I’ll think about it,” I said finally, surprised to find I actually meant it.

“As much as I hate to interrupt the creative process, we should probably head to the diner. I’m starving.”

I nodded, realizing I was pretty hungry myself. “Alright, let’s go.”

The drive to The Grove was short and familiar, the streets of Oakwood passing by in a blur of memories and nostalgia. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu as we pulled into the parking lot, the neon sign flickering in the twilight like a beacon.

As we walked inside, the smell of burgers and fries and apple pie washed over me like a warm hug. It was comforting, a reminder of simpler times and easier days.

Sarah was behind the counter, her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail and her face breaking into a huge grin as she saw me. “Liam! It’s so good to see you!”

I smiled back, genuinely happy to see her. “Hey, Sarah. It’s been too long.”

She came around the counter and pulled me into a hug. As she stepped back, she gestured to Jimmy. “And who’s this?”

“This is my best friend, Jimmy. He’s visiting from New York. Jimmy, this is Sarah. We went to high school together.”

Sarah shook Jimmy’s hand, her smile warm and welcoming. “It’s great to meet you, Jimmy. Any friend of Liam’s is a friend of mine.”

She led us to a corner booth, the same one that Caleb and I used to claim as our own back in high school. The thought made my heart clench, a bittersweet ache that I couldn’t quite shake.

As we slid into the booth, Sarah handed us menus. “I’ll give you guys a few minutes to decide. Holler if you need anything!” She shot me a meaningful look. “And Liam, don’t be a stranger, okay? You need to stop by more often.”

I nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. “I will, Sarah. Promise.”

As she walked away, Jimmy leaned forward, curious. “So, what’s the story there?”

I shrugged, picking up a menu and studying it like it held the secrets of the universe. “Not much to tell, really. We were in a band together back in high school. Me, Sarah, Caleb, and Mark. We used to play gigs all over town, dreaming of making it big someday.”

Jimmy’s eyes widened, his face breaking into a huge grin. “No shit? Liam Denison, high school rock star. I never would have guessed.”

I chuckled, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up my neck. “Yeah, well. We weren’t exactly headlining a massive concert or anything. But we had fun, and we made some great memories.”

Sarah came back with our drinks, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Some great memories, huh? Like the time Mark accidentally set his drum kit on fire during the homecoming dance?”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Oh god, I forgot about that. The sprinklers went off and everything, it was a total disaster.”

Jimmy laughed, taking a sip of his Coke. “Man, I would have paid good money to see that. You guys must have been quite the wild bunch.”

I shrugged, feeling a pang of nostalgia. “We had our moments. But mostly, we were just a bunch of kids who loved music and loved hanging out together. It was a simpler time, you know?”

Sarah nodded, her expression turning wistful. “It really was. Sometimes I miss those days, miss the way everything felt so big and important and full of possibility.”

I knew exactly what she meant. There was a magic to those years, a sense of endless potential and boundless dreams. Before life had a chance to beat us down, before reality set in and the world got so much more complicated.

Our food arrived, and conversation turned to lighter topics. Jimmy regaled Sarah with stories of our adventures in the city, the crazy gigs and wild parties and all-night writing sessions fueled by coffee and adrenaline.

But even as we laughed and joked and reminisced, I could sense an undercurrent of tension in Jimmy’s voice. A hint of worry, of concern that he was trying hard to hide.

“I just hope no vultures followed me here,” he said at one point, his eyes darting around the diner like he was expecting paparazzi to burst through the doors at any moment. “The last thing you need is the press hounding you while you’re trying to lay low and recharge.”

I sighed, feeling a twinge of guilt. I knew my sudden disappearance from the public eye had caused a stir, had set tongues wagging and rumors flying.

“It’ll be fine, Jimmy,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “Oakwood Grove is a small town, and people here know how to mind their own business. Besides, I’m not planning on making any public appearances or anything. I just want to focus on my music, on getting my head straight.”

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