Page 114 of To Bring You Back
GV:I wish there were more I could tell you.
TMR:Okay, fair enough. The album offers a lot more than love songs. “One Man Left Behind” deals with grief, anger, and guilt after losing someone to suicide. The ultimate decision to move forward with life seems to be a reluctant one.
GV:When you lose someone like that, the tragedy changes you. To anyone fighting for their lives against depression, don’t try to fight alone. There’s no shame in needing help. No one can win a war alone.
TMR:And that’s why Awestruck is donating some of the proceeds from the tour to suicide prevention efforts.
GV:Yes, we want to help. There is hope. There’s a lot to live for. Jesus loves you and put you on this earth for a purpose. I’m not saying faith results in automatic healing. Mental illness is real, and its consequences can be devastating. If you’re struggling, reach out.
TMR:That’s an important cause and just one song on an album that’s marked with growth both musically and lyrically for Awestruck. It’s hard to imagine topping this, but you alluded to being excited about what’s in store. What can you tell us about your plans after the tour winds down?
GV:A lot of the growth is directly related to the time I spent away last summer, where the only professional commitment I had was the band. I don’t mean to be ungrateful to my fans or to the opportunities available to me—I’ve got something special, and I’m grateful for that every day. But for me to continue without losing my bearings and my music, I need to be careful not to let the job take over too much.
TMR:Is there something specific you plan to cut back on?
GV:I don’t know yet, but regular time away will be part of my future. That’ll mean hard decisions about commitments aside from Awestruck, but our fans will appreciate that focus when the next album drops. And that’s important to us. The fans make this possible. For them, we need to keep evolving and growing. This is the beginning of a new phase for us, and I’m excited about what’s on the horizon, personally and professionally.
The din of fans flooding the building hums through the walls, signaling an end to the interview and proving that Vaughn’s fans are as excited as he is about what’s on the horizon.
Adeline scanned back up to the part where the interviewer had tried to get him to comment on their relationship. The way Gannon had said “Absolutely” before sidestepping was as close as he’d come to publicly admitting the song was about her.
I do still have feelings for the woman I wrote those for. She knows who she is.
After reading it again, she stood, paced her cubicle, then plopped back into her seat.
He’d also said he wished he had more he could say about their relationship. She rubbed her hand over the tattoo. Tegan was right. She needed to tell him about it.
And about her feelings.
His comments on taking more time away had to mean he planned to spend more time in Lakeshore, didn’t it? The tour, which had started last month, went all the way through December and into next January, but maybe he could steal a week or two over summer again.
Maybe, but did she really have to wait that long?
32
Two Months Later
Gannon pulled up the collar of his jacket and tweaked his baseball cap as he stepped over the cords taped to the floor of the elementary school gymnasium. Twenty or thirty rows of metal chairs bustled with movement and conversation between him and the stage. He advanced up the outside aisle. A glance revealed no one he knew in a row about halfway up, so he slid into a seat and watched his program, hoping that by being still, he’d draw less attention.
The discord of the musicians tuning tempted him to lift his head toward the makeshift orchestra pit, but he couldn’t risk it. Any moment now, the house lights should go down, and he’d be free to look.
Young, overly loud laughter sounded from the center aisle.
Olivia had chopped and dyed her hair, and she wore dark eyeliner. Despite the edginess, her oversized flannel looked like it’d been chosen for comfort. He didn’t recognize the others with her, a group of girls about her own age, maybe friends from college. Based on what Adeline had said, Olivia was within a month or two of finishing her freshman year.
The girls stepped into the row ahead of him, pointing to seats where they’d be a couple of chairs from him. Olivia’s line of sight fell on him. She froze and blinked.
So much for keeping a low profile. He cringed, but instead of pointing and screaming the way she would’ve last summer, her head swiveled away.
“I don’t like this spot. How about up there?” She lifted her arm and pointed to seats about as far from him as they could get. “It’s so much closer. I want to see. And hear. Remember last year when the speakers went out?”
She waited at the end of the row until all her friends exited. When they were on their way to the seats she’d pointed out, she winked and hurried after them.
Gannon chuckled and fixed his attention back on the program until the lights went out.
Standing in front of the velvet curtain in the pool of a spotlight, the director talked about the musical and the cast. In the orchestra pit, musicians switched on the lights mounted to their music stands, the glow glinting against their white shirts and the metal of woodwinds and brass.
And there stood Adeline.
