Prologue
Julian
The soft thud of my backpack seemed to echo in the empty music room and I let out a long, deep sigh as I ran a hand through my curls, sinking on the ground as I stared at the letter in my hands. When I was in high school and heard about Leo dropping out of college, I was shocked beyond belief. I immediately called him, the older brother that I looked up to the most and he told me something that stayed with me forever. He said that college wasn’t meant for people like us, that the passion that burned in our veins weren’t meant to be kept in hallowed halls that would only lead us into an office job. When you figured out that there was something in the world that you loved doing most, be fearless in the pursuit of your dreams.
If it was up to me, I wouldn’t even have enrolled in college. Just like Leo, I had a passion for something and that something was my music. There was nothing in the world that set my soul on fire than the sound of music filling my ears. But Milo had convinced me to enrol and get a degree because unlike Leo, I didn’t catch my lucky break. At least, not yet.
I’d been persistent with my efforts but in the end, the letter in my hand was simply another rejection. They didn’t like the demo that we sent. It was still a no-go with Finch Records and I wasn’t sure how I was meant to even bear the news to my bandmates. I didn’t get it. We were so sure. I was so sure. The instrumental was amazing and I made sure that we sent the song that I wrote about Mom and Dad, the one that always sent girls in a frenzy when they heard it.
But it was still a no.
Maybe it would always be a no.
God, maybe it was time to give up.
My phone vibrated in my pocket and as I pulled it out, squinting at the harsh brightness of the screen until I could brighten it down to see who was calling me. Amber Shaw. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Amber. She was amazing and wild in bed but she was a groupie and as much as I liked screwing around with girls who appreciated my music, it wasn’t as if I liked the idea of dating a fan.
Hell, I didn’t even like the idea of dating at all. Besides, Amber and I had ended months ago. I couldn’t even remember when I stopped seeing her but it had been so long and although she would still frequently call, I just really wished that she would get the message.
I set the phone on the hardwood floor and let the vibrations echo all over the room, closing my eyes and letting my mind wander to words that would hopefully form phrases and phrases that would evidently lead me to a song.
And that was when I heard it.
At first it seemed like a soft melody, melancholic notes coming from the guitar that must’ve been kept on the other side of the wall, where most of the instruments were. I stayed still and strained my ear to listen to the soft music coming from the other side, allowing the notes to calm down my frenzied mind and letting it tame my wild heart.
I heard her voice and it was as if someone had suddenly pressed paused and the world was on standstill. I’d heard so many voices in my life before that gave me goose bumps but there was something different about her voice. Something that seemed to tug at my heartstrings, making my entire soul vibrate with each note that she sang of an unfamiliar song to accompany the music she created with the guitar.
Tell me, brave heart
Can you chase after the wind,
Even when sunlight burns your skin?
Do you have the courage,
To pursue even if it breaks your heart
Continuously,
Over and over and over again?
I stood there, rooted in my spot as I listened to her voice croon the lyrics that seemed to stab right through my heart. I wasn’t sure if I could even take another step and go in the other room to see who was singing even though I badly wanted to see her, to see who the voice that seemed to have put my entire world on standstill belonged to.
Just when I found the courage to do so, my phone vibrated in my hand again and the sudden vibration took me by surprise, making me drop it on the ground and cuss. “Fucking hell.”
And just like that too, the music stopped, the singing stopped and it took me a moment to register the silence that suddenly seemed to swallow me whole. Ignoring my phone, I rushed to the other side. “Wait!”
But she wasn’t there anymore and I stood in the empty dimly lit room, as if no one had occupied it moments before. I ran a hand through my curls and let out a long sigh and the guitar caught my attention. It was put back crookedly in its spot. I moved closer to it, pressing a hand on the neck and then gently plucking the strings, remembering the first time that I’d ever touched a guitar in my whole life.
Leo’s passion for photography was ignited by Dad, when he first found a camera stashed in the attic. Mine was triggered by my grandfather. Being the youngest in our family, they used to leave me to Nana and Pop’s care. Pop’s used to have an old guitar that he had often used to pursue Nana back in the days but after they got married and life had taken its toll on them, he had stashed it in the garage and forgot about its existence.
Until, I found it and developed my love for it. Pop’s relieved his glory days by teaching me.
Music was what Pops left me with when he left the world and it was something that had always and only been mine to treasure and I’d made a promise to his grave that I would make it big in this world bringing my music for everyone to hear. But it seemed like the world didn’t want to listen because all I’d been getting were rejections after rejections.
“Jules? Julian?! Are you here?” José’s voice seemed to echo all over the room and it snapped me out of the trance that the voice had put me in.
“I’m here!” I called out, moving out of the room and then glancing back for a moment, at the backdoor that was right there, wondering if I chased out the girl that had been singing, would I still find her?
José came in the room, brown eyes looking frantic as he approached me, my phone in his hand. “We’ve been trying to call you for the past ten minutes! It’s about Amber!”
At the mention of Amber, I cringed. My friends were aware of how I treated every girl as a hook-up and then bid them farewell when I get tired. I got tired of Amber. My friends knew that. José knew that but here he was now, out of breath and looking at me with wide, frantic eyes. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and then head casually to the drums that were in the corner, picking up the sticks and then tapping it lightly on the surface of the drums.
“How many times have I told you guys in the past months that I’m done with Amber? It’s been three months. If she’s been pestering you, just block her on your phone.” Maybe I should’ve taken that advice for myself because she had been calling me incessantly but then again, I liked having the idea of a booty-call.
José glared at me with death stare, which took me by surprise. None of my friends really minded how I treated girls but the intensity of José’s glare was enough to make me think otherwise. “She tried to kill herself, Julian.”
She tried to kill herself, Julian.
I blinked, dropping the drumsticks. “What did you just say?”
Amber always seemed so happy and vibrant which was why I had been drawn to her in the first place. She always seemed to be the life of every party and it was one of the many reasons that I liked bringing her as a date to parties, even when I had no intention in taking those dates a step further. If the step further meant heading to bed and fucking, then that was my kind of game and Amber didn’t seem to mind. She stuck along with me and to be honest, it felt as if she had been waiting for me to change my mind, that maybe she could change my heart.