Page 39 of Composed
I tug off my headphones, throw them onto the dresser, and kick the balled-up sheet music away. There was a time I couldn’t sit still due to the unwritten composition running a loop in my mind. Now, I can’t sit still because of the silence.
Maybe it was naïve of me to believe I could just pick right back up where I left off.
I spot my phone buried beneath the paper littering my floor and snatch it up.
Thumb swiping over the screen, I pull in a slow breath, trying to ease the tension in my body as I find Cole’s number.
He answers on the first ring, his voice gruff and croaky. “Rixie?”
My stomach flutters.
“Hey,” I say. “Sorry for calling late.”
He clears his throat, and I can only imagine him rubbing sleepy eyes. “Late? It’s four a.m. Pretty sure we’re encroaching on early at this point.”
“No, it’s—” My eyes widen as I spy the time on the corner of the screen. “Fuck. I didn’t realise the time. Last I checked it was before midnight.” I scrub a hand down my face. “I’m sorry. I’ll call you back later.”
“No!” He croaks. “Don’t go.”
I pause, my thumb hovering on the red button. Indecision curls inside me, but I hear his slow exhale and I know I won’t press it down.
“I’m up now,” he says. I hear what sounds like bed sheets rustling. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“What’s up?”
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Dangerous pastime, indeed.” He chuckles, and my body hums at the lazy sound. “Care to elaborate?”
I chew my lip. “What’s the last song you wrote?”
“Not what I was expecting. Any particular reason you want to know?”
“Just wondering,” I say.
Time seems to slow as I hear his breaths caressing the speaker through the silence. I wonder if I’ve asked the wrong question. Music is so personal to artists. Getting a peek into somebody’s creative mindset is akin to peeling their skin back and staring deep into their soul.
But then, he sighs. “Properly?”
I hum an affirmative.
“Heart Torn,” he says.
My world shatters. “But that’s…”
“The last song we started together,” he says, his voice quiet,resigned.
“That makes no sense.” I shake my head.
Heart Tornwasn’t just our song. It was our ending.
What started as a tale of heartbreak became the reality of it. It was supposed to be just another song, but it turned into a ghost I’ve never been able to let go of.
“You’ve released three albums since then, ones I had no hand in.”
A dry laugh crackles through the speaker. “Yeah. After the success of the first two albums, the label wanted to capitalise on that fact and brought in some industry bigwig to write with us. Didn’t trust our vision without you, I guess.” He sighs, the sound hitting me like a sucker punch straight to my stomach. “I added some bits to the music, but absolutely none of those songs are really mine, you know?”
