Before we know it, we’re saying our goodbyes before we head out to the car. Riley, Piper, and Luna all exchange numbers. It seems they’ve really bonded over their time together. It makes me happy that we’re fitting into a nice friend group I hope will last a lifetime, but on the inside, I’m a little jealous that we’ll never get what they already have. I push those thoughts away as I climb behind the wheel.
“Ready for a good night’s sleep before your crazy week starts?” I ask as I steer through the darkness.
She shrugs. “I guess. I’m a little nervous about the song release. What if people don’t like it and everything gets canceled?”
I pick up her hand and hold it in mine. “People are going to love the song. And you. There’s no doubt about that.”
She offers up a smile. “I am excited about it though. I can’t wait to be on that platform with millions of people in front of me—watching me and being there for me and my music. Going to different countries and places I’ve never seen before. It all seems so big—a lot bigger than I am.”
I pull into the hotel parking lot and shift into park. “This is big. It’s crazy to think that the little girl who was working in a music shop in order to buy her first guitar is about to go on tour, and that millions of people will be listening to a song you wrote! They’ll be singing along with it all because of you.”
The rest of the night is spent making love, talking, giggling, kissing, touching, and repeating the sequence all over again. I know when she leaves in a few short weeks that this is going to be the time I look back on. This is going to be the time when I’ll wish I could’ve stopped the clock and stayed locked inside forever.
It’s hard being in love with a person who’s meant for bigger things than you. If that’s even what I am. Am I in love with Luna? I’ve never been in love before, but if I had to guess, I’d say that that’s exactly what I’m feeling. This doesn’t feel like the other relationships I’ve been in. This feel different, bigger, better. Everything feels fresh and new and out of control. I’d say that’s exactly what love must be. It’s just a shame she’s already slipping out of my grasp.
We make it back to the city and go our separate ways. She has some catching up to do with the band and I need to swing by the office to check my messages. As I’m driving to the gym, I turn on the radio. I have a feeling I’ll be doing this a lot in the weeks to come—listening for any sign of her. Instead of playing music on my phone while I work out, I listen to the rock station the gym plays. I listen for any sign of her song, but I’m left feeling let down. I drive back home, shower, then make something for dinner with the radio on. Still nothing. Then finally, as I’m drifting in and out of sleep on the couch, I hear the DJ say, “Guys, this one is brand-new from a band right here in Chicago called The Wonder Kings. Take a listen.” The song starts up. Excitement fills my body like this is my song—like I’m the one who’s about to get famous. I grab my phone and call her immediately.
“Are you listening to it?” she asks the moment she answers the phone.
“I am. It sounds amazing,” I say, feeling sadness taking over me. This is the moment I’ve been dreading all these weeks.
She squeals. “It sounds so good. Better than it did in the studio!”
“I knew it would. I just wanted to let you know I heard it and that I’m so proud of you. Congratulations! Now you can get back to celebrating with the band.”
“Okay, thanks again. Bye!”
The phone disconnects and suddenly, the loneliness I’ve been putting off for weeks hits me like a freight train. This is finally the start of it all. The start to her fame. The start of us falling apart. The start of my loneliness.
The next few days for her are jam-packed with radio meet-and-greets, shows, and filming their first music video. We meet up when we can, but it’s getting harder and harder with everyone demanding her time. I hang around in the back at her shows, but usually end up having to leave without her because her manager or label is always wanting them for something. A few nights, she surprises me by showing up out of the blue, and when that happens, it’s like nothing has changed.
The music video drops a week after the single, and I pull up YouTube to watch it as I eat my pizza for dinner. The video is cool—switching back and forth from color to black and white. It’s loud and fast-paced and I’ve never seen Luna look more beautiful. Her hair is wild and her eyes are dark against her olive skin. She’s wearing a ripped-up shirt that shows her hard stomach, and it makes my body tighten as I watch her dance and move around on the screen.
I make sure I like the video and subscribe to the band’s page before closing my laptop and grabbing my phone. I send her a text.
Saw the video. You looked sexy as fuck. Coming by tonight?
Just got to my place. Going to take a shower. Come here?
I finish up my pizza and push myself off the couch to get dressed. Thirty minutes later, I’m knocking on her door. She pulls it open wearing nothing but a pair of black panties and a cropped white T-shirt. Her hair is wet and hanging around her, the ends starting to soak her shirt. She offers up a smirk and I step inside.
“What’d you think of the video?”
I slip out of my jacket and toss it down on the table. “I thought you were beautiful,” I say, walking closer. She knows what’s coming and she looks up at me with a smile.
“You didn’t get bored watching it?”
I shake my head once. “I could never get bored watching you.” I take another step and my hands finally find her body, pulling her against my chest where our lips meet.
She’s completely naked and lying in my arms in her dark bedroom when she says, “Hypothetical question: Would you ever consider giving up your life here to come on tour with me . . . like if we decided to stay together?”
I’m not sure how to answer. It’s not something I’ve seriously considered. “I know that I would never let you give up your hopes and dreams to stay here with me, but as far as coming on tour with you . . . I don’t know. I don’t know if I have it in me to just travel constantly with no real destination in mind. Why do you ask?”
I feel her shoulder shrug against me. “I was just thinking . . . well, trying to think of any way this could work between us. I can’t stay. We know that for sure. But I didn’t know if you’d want to go or if you’d want to stay here. But another part of me doesn’t want you living that way—always waiting for me. I want you to be able to live your life to the fullest. If you’re here waiting for me, then that’s all your romantic life would be—waiting—and you deserve more than that.”
I take a deep breath and squeeze her a little tighter. “I think our first choice is the one we should stick with for now. You need to experience what this new life is like before deciding to lug me around with you. I want you to get on that bus happy about not knowing where life will take us. I want you to embrace it—every part of it. I want you living the rock-star lifestyle and seeing what it has to offer. Then, when we end up together in the end, you won’t have any regrets about not doing everything you could have.”