“That looks like a guitar,” he says as he helps us pull the cart onto the elevator.
“It is. Along with a midi controller and some other production equipment.”
His eyes go wide as he scans the items, then looks to me. “Are you and Luke and those other guys gonna record something here?”
“Nothere,but we’re going to write and rehearse.”
“Wow,” he says under his breath, but I sense it’s not the thought of rockstars in his hotel that’s got his attention. He’d be used to weird shit like that.
“Yeah, should be fun,” I say, subtly probing.
His gaze shoots to mine before landing on the porter beside us. The other man does a good job pretending not to be listening to our conversation.
We reach the fourth floor, and Aiden helps the porter get the cart over the hump. As I hand the younger man a bill, he hesitates and glances at the porter again.
I check the guy’s name tag and offer a sincere smile. “Thanks, Peter. I’ll meet you at the suite in a second.”
The man glances between Aiden and me before nodding. “Of course, sir. Take your time.”
Once the cart is squeaking down the hall, I turn back to Aiden, who has the elevator on hold.
“What’s up?” I ask the teenager. His typically sunny smile has sagged into a worried frown.
“I probably shouldn’t say this, Mr. Barrett, but… I’m glad you’re here. You and Callie both. I was worried about Luke. Right before you showed up, he completely stopped leaving the room. After a few days of that, I knocked on his door to check on him. He was in a bad state and said some really scary stuff. I didn’t want to tell my supervisor because I’m not supposed to approach the guests, but I was worried about him. People shouldn’t be alone like that for so long. They get in their heads and start thinking things that aren’t real. I’ve seen it before. I was afraid that was happening to Luke.”
Aiden flinches when the elevator buzzes from being open too long.
Knowing he’s on borrowed work time, he takes the bill and shoves it in his pocket. “Anyway, thanks. Luke seems like a good guy. I don’t believe all the stuff people say about him. Or at least, I don’t believe that stuff is true anymore.”
Stunned, I return a tight smile. “Thanks for saying that. I’m glad we’re here too.”
He nods, and I clear the elevator so he can leave.
As the doors close, he waves with a smile, but I can’t move. My thoughts are taking off in all directions again. Nothing he said about Luke’s state surprises me. It’s the fact that a teenage elevator attendant picked up on it and cared enough to look out for him that’s left me stunned. While Luke hid in his room, lying to himself about how much everyone hated him, a virtual stranger was willing to put her life on hold to help him, while another was willing to risk his job.
I stare at the door of 403 in the distance, now blocked by a luggage cart and impatient porter. Even when Luke sought complete isolation, there were people in his orbit who saw him. Aiden, Callie… He never would have noticed from the prison of his head, but there are always people willing to help if we can reach just a fraction of a hand above the surface for them to grasp.
Just because you don’t see someone, doesn’t mean they don’t see you.
By the time I join the porter, I’ve bottled the angst and packed it safely away.
After tipping the man (very) well, Luke unpacks the crate while I handle my guitar. Man, I missed this thing.
I pull it out and strap it on like a favorite hoodie. The familiar smell of the wood and feel of the curve against me takes me back to so many vivid moments over the years.
Writing with Luke in the basement, on the bus, backstage…
Hours of shoving my pain, grief, and frustrations at the strings until they transformed it into something else…
I do a quick tune, grab a pick from the case, and launch into the progressions I’d only heard on Luke’s beater until now.
My excitement is already exploding into joy at how that small change is turning this song into something special. Once I get some real production going, it will be epic.
“So do we get to hear this new masterpiece or what?” Eli asks.
I flinch at the interruption.
Right. Forgot about them.