Page 5 of This Side of Beautiful

Despite an affluent upbringing in Brooklyn Heights, at sixteen, already a high school graduate, I’d been on my own struggling to make small change from playing my guitar on the streets of New York City and YouTube showcase videos. Until Cedrick Thomas, a pianist, only a year older than I was, messaged me. The rest, as they say, is history.

Cedrick and the rest of the band, Brian, Santiago, and Charles, had been inside the gala for probably an hour. I would eventually show my face, supporting my chosen family, Hollow Bones. I hated those parties. All parties, to be frank. Being social took far more energy than my brain had the capacity for. I never felt more alone or overwhelmed than in a crowd. The need to escape kept me from ever attending a sporting event or a concert in a stadium. Hats and my guitar were to me like Linus’s blanket was to him. When I couldn’t carry my guitar on my back, I didn’t know how to fit my square piece in the circle of normalcy.

Cedrick understood me, and as we’d carefully curated the rest of the band, musical genius by musical genius, he’d made sure they understood and accepted my eccentricities as well.

I tilted back my straw pork pie hat, my version of a cowboy hat, in honor of my first time performing at the rodeo and to fit the theme of tonight’s Black Heritage Gala of Glitz and Hats.

I’d only passed through Houston for a gig or two and didn’t know much about this city beyond oil fields, NASA, and Beyoncé. We’d been asked to perform two nights of the twenty-one-day-long event, and the band had decided to lease a home in the suburbs of Sugarland for a few days before to have the freedom to rehearse and practice for the show and our upcoming album. Our second album had vexed us creatively and artistically after our debut release three years ago broke records and amassed numerous awards, including two Grammys. More money and more fame followed. Yet we still glided underneath the radar as an unrecognizable band until we were together on stage.

Cedrick believed we were stunted out of fear of the sophomore jinx. I begged to differ. We were at a fork in the road and had to become a commercially successful or artistically grounded band. Unfortunately, rarely did the two meet, but when they did, those records were timeless. ThinkThe Miseducation of Lauryn Hill,Offthe Wall, or The Beatles’ last album,Abbey Road.

Winning awards hadn’t shifted the needle of my dreams as it had for Cedrick and the rest of the fellas. I’d never cared about fame or fortune. I didn’t require much. A place to lay my head and food to sustain my energy. I didn’t believe I’d ever marry or have a family, so more would be unnecessary. I couldn’t imagine a woman putting up with my simplicity when I had the money for complicated. Or be patient with my habits and my need to control my immediate environment. Or my obsession with any and everything music. Besides, women were still strangely foreign creatures to me. Their hypocrisies and beauty confounded me, especially my Juilliard-trained mother, Annalise, whose love for music and image kept her tethered to my equally brilliant yet deeply flawed father, Brandon Barrett Hayes.

My cell buzzed. I slid it out of the pocket of my dark slacks.

Dude, where areyou? Everyone’s asking about you. No one cares aboutHollow Bones without Landon Hayes.

I shook my head. Cedrick still believed gaslighting me worked. I replied,

Give me afew. Catching a vibe.

Of what? You’re standing outsidethe convention center in Houston.

The beauty of being a proud, card-carrying member of the introvert club was my ability to observe the world around me unobtrusively. Despite my height, my quiet presence allowed me to fade into the background like I had the power of invisibility. Cedrick would never notice the small, vibrant, green-lawned park across from the convention center, partially blocked by public buses and the luxury cars of celebrities like myself parked in the VIP section. He wouldn’t notice the faint sounds of the trumpet played by a street musician for his keep or for potential fame. The teenagers stretched out on blankets on the cool March evening. Some parents were on their cells while their children enjoyed playing after a day at school, or maybe it was already spring break here. Or the people strolling down the busy sidewalk heading to dinner at any of the surrounding chain and original restaurants, or maybe going back to their hotel. Some were gawking at the spectacle of gorgeous Black people in dressy Western attire, ranging from denim dresses and suits to more formal dresses and tuxes. All were rocking cowboy hats as they entered the convention center.

My cell rang.

“I’m coming,” I answered, and hung up in the same second.

I looked both ways to cross the street and noticed the woman had gone inside.

When the cool, manufactured air hit me and the sounds of loud music and noisy chatter assailed my ears, the gnawing started, and I faltered.Become invisible andmove through the crowds until you get to your tablenear the front.

I inhaled. My lungs expanded, and I slowly blew the air out like I held a sax to my lips. I moved through the entrance, intent on keeping the approaching anxiousness at bay. Until someone ran into me.

I grabbed her hands out of reflex and stared at the maroon-haired woman I’d only watched a few minutes ago. The axis shifted when her fearful eyes met mine.

“Janae?”

Recognition flickered in her widened eyes and then became questioning. She didn’t remember me, though we’d worked together a handful of times before she dropped off the face of the Earth. She’d just signed a contract to do ten shows with Hollow Bones after much negotiation with Del, the manager we now shared. Cedrick and I didn’t want the drama of a diva on our brief tour, only conceding after reviewing her near-incomparable talent during past performances. We didn’t want the fiery mess that usually trailed behind MILA. Del had promised us she was a changed woman now, and only wanted to be known as Janae Warner.

As I stared down into her pixie-like face, it was clear I had left no impression on her. In contrast, my thoughts had been unwittingly consumed by her natural musicality and undeniable mocha beauty since she’d been reintroduced into my life.

“Yes.” Her forehead puckered as she searched my face. “Excuse me, I didn’t mean to bump into you. Good to see you again.”

Wow.She didn’t remember me at all. Disappointment replaced my initial concern for her wellbeing. Janae’s hands were trembling, cold, and clammy. I’d thought she might have been anxious or scared. Now, I wondered if something else had caused her to bolt.

“Hollow Bones,” I reminded her, and when she still seemed unsure of who I was, I tersely added, “You know, the band backing you and Cash Black tomorrow night. The band that’s touring with you for ten more shows after tomorrow night. That Hollow Bones.”

“I wondered if you were here.” She nodded with a smile that brightened her face. The dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks became apparent. “Where are you sitting?”

“Near the front.” I was purposely vague as I dropped her hands. “We worked together on more than one occasion, remember?”

“Yep… we did.” Her eyes darted from my face to her surroundings before she touched her hat and tilted her head. “Of course I remember you.”

This woman is so full of shit.I folded my arms and raised a brow, daring her to know the answer. “What’s my name?”

She giggled self-consciously while she toyed with my shirt. “I know who you are. It’s just that I’ve greeted and met so many people tonight. The names are jumbled in my head.”

---