Page 51 of Wild Stars

I learned early on in my career that a voice carries.So, I worked very hard to make mine the kind of voice people would listen to.

But as I sit here, strumming away on Dare’s guitar, a part of me recognizes that I am not the same person anymore.

I lost my voice, or perhaps, I left it in the valley with Edward and my broken heart.

And I’ve been struggling to find it ever since.

Dare leans forward, bracing his tattooed arms on his knees.The couch creaks as I continue to play.

“YourControlalbum got me through some rough days, you know.It’s actually what made me want to pursue music more.”

I stop at his words, turning to look at him.

He glances at me, and I am stunned.

“You’re kidding.No one likes that album.The record execshatedit.”

Dare shakes his head.“That’s cause it’s fucking fire.Yeah, it’s different from your other stuff, sure.But musicians are meant to explore sound, right?We’re supposed to evolve?”

I swallow his compliment along with the sweet, innocent look in his gaze.

“You...know my music?”I don’t know why I am so stunned, but something about Dare’s admission makes me feel naked and vulnerable.Like with one blow, I could crumble to pieces.

“I mean, yeah.Mage Of Mercywas my favorite band in high school.”His cheeks flush once more.“You’re...kinda the reason I wanted to make music.You and Hailee...you never sounded like anyone else.You were always evolving, changing.Trying new things.”

“Yeah.Evolution is inevitable.We grow, and our music grows with us.”

I finish off the last notes ofControl, and nod to Dare.My heart thuds so loudly in my chest, I think he can probably hear it.

“Your turn,” I say calmly.

Dare lets out a sigh as he gets up, heading for his guitar once more.

* * *

When it’s nearingone am, we both decide to call it a night.

The hours flew by like sands in an hourglass.Slowly, but then all at once, poof.It was over.

We both stand in the foyer as I twirl my keys in my hand.

I look at Dare, yawning as he taps away on his phone.

I know I’m walking a tightrope with my own sanity, but damn it.

The need tocare, togive,is so damn strong for this man who rips me apart and exposes me.

“I can give you a ride home,” I offer firmly.It isn’t a demand, or a command.Even though it should be.

No, instead, it is asuggestion.

Dare twists his lips as he looks up from his phone.

“Oh, it’s all good.I called an Uber.”

Panic floods me, along with anxiety, and Dare must sense it because his expression softens as he reaches out, running his fingers along my forearmsoothingly.

“I can assure you, Matty, I have survived plenty of Ubers in LA before you came along,” he says with a smirk.

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