Page 17 of The Night the Stars Went Dark

“But why? Music was what made you, you. You used to have this fire when you played. How can you give that up?” He leaned forward.

“It was a stupid dream, and it’s over. That’s not me anymore.” I pressed my lips together.

Bryson

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. This is a girl who at one point would rather play the piano than do anything else. I used to have to trick her to get her out of the studio. What happened the last five years? I’m sitting here staring at her. Her body language is telling me to stop pushing, but I know her. I know she couldn’t just walk away. I know that her dad wouldn’t have wanted this.

“He’d want you to play, you know that right?” My voice was low and quiet. I was pushing her, and I knew that she was ready to bolt. “He wouldn’t want this life for you. He had dreams of you playing at Carnegie.”

“What do you know about my dreams, huh?” She scowled. “Why aren’t you playing in New York? Were you not good enough?”

“I walked away from it.” I tipped my head to the side. “I got the opportunity to play with a couple of local bands as a fill-in and decided that’s where I wanted to be. I’m looking for something full time.” I lifted my chin.

“Whatever,” she grumbled. She lifted her tea and tipped her head back, finishing it.

“Did I do something to upset you? I thought we both lost touch. We both stopped calling. I mean… is there something I said or did that made you this mad?” I was confused. We used to be best friends, and then when her dad passed, it was as if she cut anything and everything tied to him out of her life.

“You make me remember—” she murmured “—and I can’t. It hurts too much.”

“Penny.” I reached across the table to touch her hand and she pulled it back away from me. I frowned at her movement.

“Please don’t.” Her bottom lip quivered, and a lone tear slipped free, making its way down her cheek. She wiped it away and looked over at the street. Her head shook as she pressed her lips together, shaking away whatever thought had filled her head.

“I have to.” I stood and came around to where she was sitting. I pulled the chair over before reaching out and wrapping her in my arms. She resisted at first, but I held her, and she broke down and gave in. Sobs shook her body and the tears flowed freely. “Let it out,” I soothed. “You can’t keep all this bottled up.”

“It’s just too hard. I miss him so much. Some days I feel like I can’t breathe. I wake up and tell myself that today will be better, but then I hear a melody or see something that reminds me of him. I’ll see a stranger and think it is him. The grief just swallows me up.” She sobbed before pulling back to look at me. Her tear-stained red eyes blinked a few times. “I’m sorry I was such a bitch. It’s just… you make me remember my life when he was in it, and it just hurts.”

“Have you talked to anyone about this?” I murmured.

“No.” She sniffed. “It won’t change anything. He’s still dead, and I’m alone.”

“You’re not alone. I’m here.” I smiled.

“You don’t live here, Bryson.” She rolled her eyes as she pulled farther away from me.

“I’m here for the week. Maybe we can hang out more.” I smiled wider.

“Maybe.” She sighed.

I watched as she wiped away the tears and locked the emotions away. It was like watching a wall being erected. Her face went blank as she lifted her chin, and then stood. “I need to get home. I’ll see you around.” She started to step away, but I grabbed her hand to stop her.

“Wait. How am I supposed to reach you?” I stood and a sense of panic set in.

“My number hasn’t changed.” She lifted one shoulder as if it wasn’t a big thing.

My stomach knotted, and my heart sped up. This girl, she didn’t know it, but seeing her tonight gave me purpose. She was always pretty when we were younger, but I never really tried to make us more. I was ok with just being friends. She was dedicated to playing, and claimed she didn’t have time for anything else, but tonight was different. She was different and so was I. She seemed so broken, and I was up for the challenge of being the glue that put her back together; I needed her to play. I needed her to remember her purpose. If I could do that, I’d get the old Penny back. She needed this as much as I did, and I was going to make her see that if I had to find her every day. “I’ll call you tomorrow!” I blurted out at her back.

“Yeah.” She waved as she briskly walked down the street from the direction we’d come. I watched her until she turned the corner, and then I stood to follow. I kept my distance so I wouldn’t scare her, but I needed to know she made it home safe, at least that’s what I was telling myself as I made a mental note of where she was living.

When she slipped inside the building, I breathed a sigh of relief and then rushed to my car. I needed to come up with a plan, a plan to give her her light back, a plan that would ignite the spark that used to be so bright inside her. She’d see, she’d see that music was who she was and I’d be just the one to show her.

Chapter 11

Bryson

It took me hours to fall asleep last night. I spent most of it staring at the ceiling. When that didn’t work, I went for a walk. I finally gave up around five and got ready for the day. There was no gig tonight, so hopefully I could get some rest later.

I drove from my hotel to Cool Beans to grab coffee and pastries for Penny and me, and then headed toward her apartment. I had no idea if she was home or even awake, but I knew I needed to see her. I parked a few blocks away on the street. As I walked toward her building, there were neighbors out collecting their morning papers, waving good morning, and watering plants om their balconies and front stoops. It was like a scene right out of a movie. One gentleman was even wearing a smoking jacket.

---