Page 40 of Tracing Holland

Jesse laughs.“Is that where you’re at?”

I smirk.“I wish.”

His smile fades as he stares off into the distance.“It’s not what I thought.All of this,” he muses, waving his hand in front of him.“I mean, it’s like this dream you have forever.And then, bam, it happens, but it doesn’t even seem like it’s happening.You just keep living the moment, surviving it.It’s just another day, like yesterday.I thought there’d be magic or something when it happened.Makes you wonder if it’s even real, you know?That sounds stupid.”

“No.It’s not stupid.I know exactly what you mean.”I follow his distant stare as I consider my response.“Look, you have to just stop and take a breath,” I continue, surprising myself with my sage tone.He looks over at me, and I can see the respect in his gaze.I meet it, a sudden protectiveness washing over me.“You have to force yourself to stop each day and look around.Give yourself a chance to enjoy the reality of the moment because there are no real endings, no bookmarks for your life to guide you.It just keeps going until it’s over, and it’s up to you to pick a point in time to stop and consider where you are.”

I pause and point at his tour bus.“See that right there?That’s all you.You made it, Jess.You made it.So stop for a second and enjoy your dream.Think about what you’d be doing if you weren’t here and be grateful you are.”

He snickers.“I’d be in prison probably.”

I grin and shrug.“Me too.But that’s what I’m saying.You’re not.You’re here.In a few hours you’re going to be paid some serious money to do something you’d do for nothing.Forget the rest of this crap.The music is what matters.Forget the Label, the schedule, the press, the criticism, the reviews.They will devour you alive if you let them.You have to stop the avalanche each day and focus on the one truth that matters: you have the opportunity to spend your life doing what you love.The rest is only important to the extent that it allows you to continue doing that.”

He doesn’t respond right away, but I can see him considering my words.No one is more surprised than I am by my speech, and I had no idea how much I’d learned, how much I’d grown over the last few years until it came pouring out.

“I know you’re right.I do, it’s just so hard to have your heart shoved back at you and hear it sucks.That someone hates something you love.It’s like people don’t think you’re real.You’re just some idea or something, and they take pleasure in shredding you just because they can.The worst part is, you can’t even fight back and defend yourself!”

I sigh.Yeah.If anyone can understand that…

“The more people love you, the more others will hate you.The higher they perceive your pedestal, the more pleasure they take in knocking you down.You’ve exposed yourself, Jesse, made yourself vulnerable.Whether you thought about what you were doing or not, it doesn’t matter.It’s too late.By deciding to pursue your dream, you’ve opened yourself up to the good and the bad.And you’re right.You’re no longer Jesse Everett, the kid from Philly.You’re now a shiny object without feelings, a punching bag for hate and other people’s biases and issues.

“But, Jesse, it’ll break you if you let it.I’m telling you, from personal experience, you cannot take your worth from what others think, good or bad, because they’re not judgingyou, they’re displaying themselves, their prejudices, their fears and hopes.All you’ve done is trigger a reaction in them, and sometimes it’s beautiful, and sometimes it backfires, but that doesn’t make it a statement about who you are.Criticism isn’t about the person who created the art, just about how your art fits into someone else’s world.”

He closes his eyes, and I smile to myself.I’m not sure if any of this is getting through, but I sense it is.Jesse always seemed like a smart kid, a tough kid from the little I know about him, and I’m betting we have a lot more in common than we even realize at this point.He’s got a story, like so many of us, and he’s clearly a warrior.A damn talented one from what I’ve seen.

“Can I hear what you’ve got?”I ask after a long silence.It’s hilarious the way he tries to cover his shock as he glances over at me again.

“Really?”

I laugh.“Yeah, of course.Grab your guitar.Let’s see what we can do.”

“Oh my…seriously?You’re serious.”

I roll my eyes.“You want to do this or not?”

I’m onstage messingwith one of my amps when I sense someone’s attention.I glance up and immediately stiffen at Holland’s crooked grin.

“Hey, stranger.Did Gary quit on you or something?Do I need to lend you my guy this time?”

I return her smile with a shy one of my own.“Nah, I’m just fooling around.I wanted to try something for a song I’m working on.”

“Oh, so intriguing!Do tell.Is it about a perplexing, super hot rocker who sucks you in with glimpses of vulnerability then acts like a total asshole?”

I stare at her in shock, then grin when she does.I laugh and look away, praying I’m not blushing as I focus back on my amp.And she’s not even done with me.

“Ok, so, I wasn’t sure how this works.Are we not supposed to talk at all now?Do we have to do the awkward silence thing the rest of the tour or what?”She lowers herself to the drum riser a few feet away.“I’m not used to blatant rejection, so I’m not exactly sure what happens next.”

I return her grin again, I can’t help it, and I’m terrified I actually am blushing now.“Um…I’m not used to acting like an ass to people I care about, so I don’t know either.”

“Ok, really?Really… ‘Cause there was definitely a stunning display of asshole expertise there.”

I laugh again and shake my head, trying to focus, but know there’s no chance of that with Holland Drake in my line of sight.

“Well, it is a learned art-form, I’m not gonna lie.I’d teach you, but I doubt you could pull it off.”

It’s her turn to snicker, and we connect with a quick glance before both looking away.I don’t know if this is awkward, but it’s not hostile, and that’s more than I ever could have hoped for after the way I acted.

“I heard you the other night.On your balcony,” she continues.

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