Becky Wicks - Before He Was A Secret (Starstruck #3)

by Becky Wicks

‘Stephanie…’ I hear David start behind me, but he trails off. Conor stands to my side, nodding encouragingly. I love you, my mind says again as I thank the Lord that he’s here and in my life. I know I have to do this. This and this alone is what has haunted me since I was sixteen years old. Goosebumps spring up on my arms. I can feel my father sitting with me on the stool. I can almost hear him whispering as I press the keys yet again and as I start to play I hear Sandi take a deep breath behind me. They’re here, I can feel it; my mother and my father. I don’t know how I know, I just know. They’re here because we’re about to lose our house.

  My phone rings. I ignore it, blinking the tears back from my eyes. I’m playing fully now. I start to sing and Conor joins in, putting his hands on my shoulders. We sing Unprepared in harmony and Sandi walks up to us, wiping her cheeks on the sleeve of her shirt and Cory picks up another harmony, grinning at my side. I hear Conor’s phone ring. He stops, pulls it out of his pocket and I nod that he should answer it as Cory takes the seat beside me, joins in where Conor left off. He always could do that. When we finally finish I turn around to see Conor standing in the doorway with the hugest grin on his face. Cory and David are hugging me, telling me how proud they are of me, but all I can focus on is Conor.

  Butterflies start flapping in my stomach. I can read him like a book. ‘What…’

  ‘She sold it,’ he says, walking towards me as my hand flies up over my mouth. ‘That was Mel. She sold it to HotFlush. Noah Lockton and Courtney Lenten want to cut Stars. But they don’t just want it for the album, they want it as a single.’

  ‘Oh my God!’ I jump up, throw my arms around him and he spins me on the spot. ‘Seriously!?’

  ‘She’s working out all the paperwork now,’ he says into my hair, squeezing me tight. ‘But Mel said now that HotFlush are involved the other labels are calling for our stuff. She wants to meet tomorrow…’

  ‘This is crazy,’ I breathe, swiping at my cheeks. Just five seconds ago we were losing the house and now… now I might just be able to save it.

  ‘What just happened?’ Cory asks and I realize they’re all looking at us in bemusement.

  ‘We got a cut – a song we wrote together,’ I explain as Conor puts me down.

  Cory’s blue eyes are saucers. ‘But… for Noah Lockton? Are you kidding me?’

  I move to Sandi. She still can’t speak. She looks like she’s in shock as I hug her. ‘This is insane, Noah Lockton! Holy shit,’ David cries out behind me. ‘Wait till I tell Emmy, she’s obsessed with him...’

  ‘Don't say anything yet, to anyone. How often do Noah’s songs get to number one?’ I ask, turning back to Conor. Every inch of me is shaking as the sheer magnitude of what we’ve just achieved sinks in. But anything could break this spell at any moment. What if it’s still not enough? He walks to me.

  ‘Every time,’ he says as his hands find my waist. ‘Everywhere, Stephanie. And they’re recording ASAP, Mel says. It could be on the radio in six weeks. We could get our royalties in time to help you, if you could talk to the bank…’

  ‘I’ll talk to the bank,’ I say as David whoops again. I mouth something else that doesn’t quite come out. I can’t even process my thoughts properly. I can’t even say anything else as I throw my arms around Conor and squeal, jumping up and down. Instantly I feel my parents again, almost like they’re in the room with Sandi and my brothers, cheering and clapping. I can visualize my father walking over and throwing his big arms around me; Conor too.

  ‘They did this,’ Conor whispers suddenly. I freeze.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t you see?’ he says, pulling away, scanning my eyes. ‘Your parents. Didn’t I tell you they’d be looking down and smiling when you played that piano?’

  I shake my head and laugh, then kiss him. Once again he’s said exactly what I was thinking and feeling. Cory and David are bashing into their phones madly. Sandi is still looking at us, probably wondering who the hell Noah Lockton is. ‘This wouldn’t be happening without you,’ I say, putting my hands either side of his face.

  ‘Without us,’ he says, almost in disbelief.

  The words are on the tip of my tongue. I love you.

  ‘I love you, Jackson,’ he says into my ear, pulling me against him again, making my heart flip. How does he do this?

  ‘I love you too, so much, you have no clue,’ I hurry back at him, out loud. He picks me up again and spins me round till I’m laughing and my hair is flying and I’m thinking that from the edge of the black sometimes can come the brightest light that maybe, just maybe, was always written in the stars.

  16.

  Conor

  One month later…

  Travis descends on Stephanie as soon as she puts her guitar down and follows me off the stage, but so do about three other people. I’m getting used to it now. I get equal attention from the girls who flock to the Bluebird to see us in bigger numbers every week since word got out about Stephanie and I writing the song that’s set to launch Noah Lockton’s new album and U.S tour in two week’s time.

  Stars has just started to get airplay – they took longer recording it than planned but everyone in Nashville knows when a singer/songwriter gets a cut like that, and since HotFlush also bought Unprepared we’re expecting big royalties, which is good because we have to pay back the advance they gave us before we get anything else.

  ‘You guys get better with every show,’ Mel says, handing me a Bud as I step down. My eyes follow Stephanie as she’s swept through the clusters of candlelit tables by Travis and a group of his groupies all chattering about how awesome she was up there, as usual. His talk of joining forces is getting tired now but he never stops asking. He never talks to me, I’ve noticed. Just Stephanie.

  I put my Fret guitar pick back into my jeans pocket and my fingers brush the half-guitar attached to my key chain. Stephanie gave it to me before we left her place in Homewood, after we christened her bedroom; at her own request I have to add. She said no boy or man had ever been into her bedroom, let alone made love to her in it and my chest and something else swelled hard at the though of being the first. I wasn’t going to take the pendant - it belonged to her father after all - but she insisted and I could hardly say no. She says the two halves and how they fit together are a symbol for how everything else came together that day... as well as how we did that night on her childhood bed.

  I grin, still thinking of her skin against mine, how we had to whisper, how my hand pressed over her mouth as she shook and trembled underneath me and I told her how much I love her. It just keeps getting better. I do love her. More than I ever thought it possible to love anyone. I’m completely myself with Stephanie.

  ‘So, you still have no intention of singing outside of Nashville?’ Mel says, breaking into my thoughts as I swig on my Corona.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, most people round here would kill to have done what you guys have done, but do you really not want to sing your own songs out there, like Noah Lockton?’ She raises perfectly waxed eyebrows. ‘The world’s always looking for a hot new duo, you know. Jackson and Judge could still be it.’

  ‘I’m happy to let Lockton have the songs,’ I tell her. ‘As long as he keeps on paying me. I don’t need the rest of it.’

  Mel laughs. ‘The rest of it?’

  ‘The running away from paparazzi, being misrepresented… I’ve had enough problems fighting to be myself as it is…’ I pause, clear my throat. Mel doesn’t exactly know about Hearts and its hold on me, or how my father, who she so admires, has cut me off from the family business as well as the family, just for standing up for the right to my own life and happiness.

  She nods in contemplation, twisting her birdcage necklace between two fingers. I don’t miss how her eyes wander to Stephanie. Something in her look makes me feel uncomfortable. It’s the same look Noah’s manager gave her that time; like Stephanie is some kind of prized animal they’re waiting to take to a market.

  ‘So, have
you met Courtney Lentini yet?’ a guy in tan cowboy boots and a plaid shirt asks me, coming up and clinking his bottle to mine. Mel wanders to her table and I study him. He’s new in town, I can tell. He’s trying too hard with his Nashville outfit. Why do people assume everyone still dresses like a cowboy around here? Sometimes I swear the cowboys don’t even want to dress like cowboys anymore – they just feel like they have to.

  ‘Not yet,’ I say, keeping one eye on Stephanie. Travis is ushering her towards Mel. He probably wants an intro to the people - some of them well-dressed woman - at her table, relentless as he is. But right after I hold a hand up to E-beth, who’s just walked through the door, my eyes fall on someone else.

  The tall, thin woman in the cream cardigan and pale blue knee-length skirt is standing at the back near the bar. Her jacket is draped over one arm and her purse is clutched against her. Her eyes are flitting nervously around the room before they land on me and hold my gaze. Mom.

  I walk through the crowd towards her and she steps away from the bar, putting a hand to my arm as I reach her. My guts mangle as I study her drawn face and put my beer down behind her. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘You’re incredible up there. Both of you,’ she says. Her familiar brown eyes are brimming with tears, her cheeks look hollow. ‘I’m so proud of you,’ she adds as I clock a big brown zip-up bag at her feet.

  ‘Mom…’

  ‘I left your father.’

  ‘What?’ I feel like I’ve been punched.

  ‘He told me I couldn’t tell you about… he told me not to tell you and I couldn’t lie anymore…’

  ‘Mom, what?’

  ‘Micah.’

  My eyes almost pop out of my sockets but all I can do as she breaks down in front of me is pull her against me. I hold her as she sobs and the world falls totally out of alignment. ‘Mom talk to me.’ My legs feel like jello.

  ‘I had to do it Conor, I’m scared…’

  ‘It’s OK,’ I say into the top of her head. Holy shit. I pick up the bag quickly and lead her gently out of the bar to the lot, trying not to meet anyone’s eyes as I go. E-beth’s watching me and so are a bunch of other people now. I know mom got a cab here; she would have waited till my father had turned in for the night and snuck out quietly. I can’t believe this is happening. ‘Mom, what about Micah?’ I say, hearing my voice break. ‘Is he alive? Tell me.’

  ‘Conor?’ Stephanie’s stepping outside now, past the security guy, hurrying towards me. Her eyes narrow when she sees us. ‘What’s going on? E-beth said…’

  ‘I have to take mom back to my place.’ I cross with her quickly over the street, to the parking garage. Stephanie follows.

  ‘Your mom?’ She stops in her tracks. Her blue patterned dress swirls in the breeze with her hair. My mom swipes at her face and smiles a watery smile in her direction. I realize this is the first time they’ve laid eyes on each other.

  ‘You have a beautiful voice,’ mom manages before breaking down again.

  ‘We’re leaving,’ I say, wrapping an arm back around her and leading her to my car. I unlock the door and throw the bag in the back as Stephanie hurries with us.

  ‘Tell Mel I had to go,’ I say to her. ‘I’ll explain later.’

  ‘Sure, sure, of course, but… we’re halfway through the set…’

  ‘I have to go,’ I say, ‘you can do it on your own, baby. You have your own songs.’

  Just as I say it I see a blacked out estate pulling up over the street and a familiar figure climbing out with a phone to his ear. Stephanie sees me looking and spins round. ‘Is that Denzel? From HotFlush?’ she says.

  We both watch him wave at the security guy and head inside the Bluebird. Shit. ‘I think it is. Did he come to see us? Did he bring anyone else?’

  ‘He’s on his own. It’s OK,’ Stephanie says, putting a hand to my back as I help my mom into the car. She’s clutching her jacket to her, staring unseeingly ahead of her, not even putting her seatbelt on. I shut the door. My heart is thudding for so many reasons.

  ‘God, Conor, what happened?’ Stephanie whispers.

  ‘I’m about to go find out, I’ll call you later,’ I tell her, kissing her cheek and hurrying over to the driver’s side. ‘Tell Denzel I’m sorry.’

  ‘I love you,’ she says, hugging her arms around herself as I screech out of the parking garage.

  17.

  Stephanie

  ‘Where did lover-boy go?’ Travis asks me as soon as I step back inside. He hands me a Jack and Coke and I refuse it. He’s always trying to give me liquor at these gigs and I hate performing drunk. He gives it to E-beth instead.

  ‘Family emergency,’ I tell them both quickly, before turning away and heading for Mel’s table. Denzel is with her now, along with several other people I was introduced to briefly before the first half of our set. I can’t remember any of their names. ‘Conor had to go,’ I tell Mel, sliding into the seat beside her. Denzel leans over the table to greet me with a kiss to my cheek.

  ‘Nice to see you darlin’,’ he says in his cockney British twang. He sniffs. ‘Ooh, you smell like vanilla. Bloody good job on Stars by the way. Excited for the album release?’

  ‘Definitely,’ I say, blinded momentarily by his almost neon blue shirt, covered in yellow birds. ‘I didn’t know you were in town.’

  ‘Meetings. It’s all about the meetings with you lot,’ he says, waving his BlackBerry. By you lot I take it he means Americans. ‘I also wanted to invite you and Conor personally to the launch party.’ He lifts himself half off his seat, pulls out two envelopes from his impossibly tight pants pocket and slaps them down on the table in front of me. ‘I’m sure you’ll get a kick out of the guest list.’

  I open the one with my name on. Inside a glittery card with Noah and Courtney’s faces on the front are return plane tickets to New York and a boutique hotel reservation on the lower east side. My eyes bug out. ‘Seriously?’ I say, looking up and thinking of the coffee table book my mom always had at home – the one Sandi keeps there, in its place. ‘I’ve never been to New York City.’

  ‘Ah, well we can’t have that, now can we?,’ Denzel says, flashing me a grin over the top of his beer bottle. ‘The hotel’s a block from the party but you can stay a few days, look around. People there want to meet you.’

  ‘Is everything OK, hun?’ Mel asks now, putting a hand to my arm. I stare at her gigantic ruby red ring in the shape of a heart and scrunch up my face. The look on Conor’s face outside tugs at my heart again and makes me feel nauseous. Something really bad must have happened.

  ‘He didn’t say. He had his mom with him,’ I tell her.

  Mel sucks in a breath as Denzel looks at me quizzically. ‘I can finish the set on my own,’ I add, pulling myself together. I know I have enough material to pull it off. We’ve been working non-stop on new stuff for Mel to send out, trying to get another cut while everyone’s hot for our music. It must all seem so glamorous to those looking on, but if I’m honest the thrill wore off pretty quick. Unless I can pay off my share of the advance and start earning real royalties, the house in Homewood still isn’t safe.

  ‘I just can’t finish with Stars,’ I explain. ‘It wouldn’t be the duet we sold to Noah Lockton if it was just me.’

  ‘Whatever you want to do,’ Mel says, patting my arm and Denzel nods as the M.C takes his spot under the twinkling lights and welcomes us back on for the second half. I stand up, walk back onto the stage, trying my hardest to ignore the pounding in my chest. Everyone’s clapping and whistling as I slide my guitar strap over my shoulders and face the crowd. I’ve never performed alone for so many people before. I’ve always had my brothers with me on stage, or Conor. Without Conor right now I feel so exposed. But I have to do this. I’m in Nashville, at the freakin’ Bluebird.

  I stand straighter, tweak my guitar strings. ‘I’m so sorry ya’ll but Conor had to go,’ I say, forcing a smile to my face and extra cheer into my voice. ‘I hope little ol’ me singing on my own
won’t put you off!’

  ‘We love you, baby!’ Travis yells out, and a bunch of people by the bar laugh and whistle even louder. I catch the grin on Denzel’s face, the way he and Mel are both looking at me intently now, sipping their drinks. A bolt of adrenaline flares through me as I start to play, spurring me on. ‘This one’s called Comfortable Company…’

  As I sing and play I start to forget the crowd. I concentrate fully on my voice, feeling the words flowing into me and out of me and I realize after a while that no one is talking, no one is checking their phone. Everyone’s just listening and watching. I picture Conor and I the other day, sitting in my living room during one of our ‘house concerts’, bouncing the lyrics off each other, surrounded by coffee cups as Tal played along on her violin and Pete added yet another harmony.

  He pours her a glass of red

  Sits on the arm of her chair

  As he changes the channels he absently plays with her hair

  Same old story

  But still she gets butterflies

  Stolen secrets

  Talking through another night

  And hoping the sun stays asleep this time

  He says,

  When your feet are still stuck on the ground

  Is your mind always trying to fly

  And she smiles ‘cause she knows where it is that he goes

  When he closes those beautiful eyes

  And they both see

  How love is everything

  And nothing like they thought it would be

  It’s a comfortable company love likes to keep

  When you dream all night

  And you don’t even sleep

  ‘Way to go, Stephanie Jackson!’ Travis enthuses, making his way forward as I wrap up the song and the crowd applauds. I’m surprised when he steps onto the stage beside me and picks up Conor’s acoustic from its stand. I throw him a questioning look but he shrugs his broad shoulders, as if to say he doesn’t know what he’s doing either, but he walks to Conor’s mic, adjusts it slightly. Denzel leans forward on his elbows, shoots Mel an amused look.