Light Dream

by Adalind White

  Christine looked beautiful, but her empty stare warned him she was sad. Or maybe Diane's joy was too much of a contrast. His daughter cannoned into his arms and he caught her in a bear hug.

  "I missed you so much, kid," he said.

  She held on to him as tight as her arms could manage. She pressed her face hard into his shoulders muffling her voice. "Missed you, daddy."

  When he looked up, he saw Christine's eyes warming up as she watched them.

  "Hi, Andrew. Thank you for picking us up."

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek, squeezing their daughter between them for a moment.

  "Welcome back," he said.

  Her shoulders drooped a fraction and a grimace twisted her ruby lips. He hadn't meant to hurt her with those words. He wondered if she regretted their divorce. If she missed him at all. He missed her companionship. Her advice. Her dry humor. She had been his rock in dark times. He couldn't help feeling that he let her down.

  Diane disentangled herself from him and he picked up their bags. Diane caught him up with the flight on their way to the car.

  They got to his car, and they helped him arrange their suitcases and smaller bags in the trunk.

  "Can you leave me at my mother's place?" Christine said.

  "Of course," he said. "Let me know if you need anything while you're staying."

  The small light in her eyes grew brighter. She nodded. "I like the new look," Christine said, running her fingers through his hair.

  "Someone taught me expensive habits," he said. "I'm a Didier regular now."

  Diane squealed and jumped excitedly. "Really? You liked it?"

  "We have a full spa day there next week," he said.

  "Before the Summer Festival?" Diane asked immediately.

  "Before," he confirmed. "From Viaverde we're going straight to Legoland. You're not too grown-up for Legoland, right?"

  "No one is too grown-up for Legoland," his daughter assured him.

  The hours with Diane passed like they had been mere minutes. If not for his promise to Carter, he would have lost the resolve to stick to her 11pm bedtime.

  At 11.29 he was walking in Carter's mixing room. He was there, scribbling on music sheets. It must have been a generation thing, Andrew thought. They both needed to put the notes and words on paper.

  He started when Carter turned to look at him. His cheekbones were razor sharp and the dark under his eyes was deeper than ever. The public TC persona was all about late night parties and casual sex, but privately, the man had always been health conscious.

  "What's wrong?" Andrew asked immediately.

  He sat down at the mixing table, and Carter handed him a music sheet. "The one who got away". One of the many songs Carter had written about Christine.

  "Well?" he asked.

  "I need you to sing this," Carter said.

  That made no sense. "Why?"

  "Because I can't. The treatment went well, but I couldn't postpone the surgery past Summer Festival. I promised Vy I'd sing this with her in Viaverde."

  "You lost me."

  Carter took in a deep breath. Even that seemed to cause him pain.

  "I've been preparing Vy to take over for me. With the Waves. Just in case the operation ruins my voice. I've been sending her on her own, to get more experience, and I told her that the Summer Festival is an experiment. But I wanted to sing this one with her."

  "Are you trying to say that you want me to sing your song, about my wife, with your band and your protégé?"

  "Yes," Carter said. "I know it's short notice and I know you hate my guts, but I'm not asking this for me."

  A muscle twitched in his jaw. "You're asking for the good of rock music," he said sarcastically.

  Carter nodded. "For its future."

  "My daughter is in town," he said. "I planned things to do every day she's here. I can't come to your studio and rehearse this."

  Carter twirled an USB in his skeletal fingers. "Better this way," he said. "I haven't told her. She's so… full of energy and optimism. I made her work so hard for this, and she never complained. She argues with me, but she never backs down from work. Sometimes I wonder if you wouldn't have been better for her."

  Carter pushed the USB across the length of the mixing table until it touched Andrew's fingers.

  "These are all the recordings of our practices. With and without my voice. Please." His voice trailed off for a while as if he was gathering his strength. "We're booked the day before Wanderlust. Come to Viaverde a day early and be backstage after our set starts."

  "You want me to sing this song without ever practicing it with the Waves or with her?" he asked.

  Carter bowed his head. His eyes sparkled when he looked up. "Andrew, please do this."

  He clenched his jaw and looked into the dark glass that separated the control room from the recording booth. The place where Vy sang for Tim.

  "It should be the last song of her set," Tim said. "She starts singing alone on the stage, and I join her halfway. I know you hate drama, but this will be her coronation. The new Sing season starts the week after the Festival, and I want her to shine brighter than IBC's advertising machine by then."

  IBC's old system had messed up his generation. The new IBC had screwed Vy over on Sing and on Celebrity Jungle.

  "If you're not there after she goes on stage," Carter said. "I'll tell her at the interval that the duet is off. I'll tell her about the surgery. She will never know about this conversation."

  "I'll try. I don't know when I can rehearse this in ten days, but I'll try."

  He would have to go into his small music room at home every night after Diane went to bed and study the aptly named "The one who got away". The irony of singing about his ex-wives grey eyes and thinking about Vy's green eyes was not lost on him.

  Chapter 4

  Vy

  VY WALKED BAREFOOT ON THE SAND. Viaverde was famous for its bohemian atmosphere and crowded beaches, but it looked like she had discovered one that wasn't overrun with people. She needed to relax and run through that evening's performance in her head.

  She was going to sing with the Waves.

  She nudged a shell with her toe thinking for the millionth time that she had no idea what she felt for Tim Carter. It had started as a mixture of worship and revulsion, but with time she got so used to him that she managed to see through his abrasive manner and his crude comments.

  Carter saw so much poetry in the world he would be incapacitated if he let it control him. That didn't make him any less of a jerk, but it made the endless rehearsals and iterative recording sessions more bearable.

  Her belief in Carter the Rock God would have been complete if she didn't have the example of another god who handled this problem quite differently. As much as she tried not to hear, her friends kept gushing over their benevolent god.

  The god who must not be named was not welcome in her pre-performance walkthrough. She was humming the first song they were going to play that evening, when she heard running footsteps behind her.

  A teenage girl with long dark hair skidded to a halt a few steps in front of her.

  "You're Vy Cesara, aren't you?"

  Vy smiled and nodded. A fan. She was used to compliments on her singing, but she mostly got recognized in clubs. And more often than she wished, the compliments were from men who hit on her. She loved it most of all when children came to her. She never hesitated to sign autographs on paper napkins, notebooks, t-shirts or arms and she didn't mind when they wanted selfies with her.

  "I'm Diane. I absolutely love you! I voted for you every round. You should have totally won Sing!"

  "Thank you! I thought so, too!"

  Diane giggled.

  "And you're funny! I love your album. I listened to it a million times."

  "What's your favorite song?"

  The girl shook her head. "Can't say. I listen to it from one end to the other every time."

  Carter would be pleased to know that. He'd crafted her albu
m like an intricate masterpiece, each song leading into the next, telling an overarching story.

  "Which one do you find yourself humming?"

  "Roadtrip."

  She was delighted. That was the most hummable, the song that was the most like the Waves on their sunny days.

  "That might be your favorite."

  "Cool!" Diane said. "So... are you going to sing at the Summer Festival?"

  "That's what I'm here for."

  The girl cocked her head and looked at her with an intensity that was ever so vaguely familiar. "I didn't see your name anywhere. And I looked."

  Vy pressed her index finger to her lips. "Shhh, it's a secret."

  "Oh, wow, why is it a secret? What are you going to sing? Do you have a new album?"

  "How would it still be a secret if I told you?"

  The girl's face fell a little.

  "Let's do this," Vy said. "You can come backstage tonight, and you can tell me what you thought after the set. If you're allowed to be up so late."

  "Oh, that shouldn't be a problem. We're here for the Festival, so we're up until the end of the show every night."

  "Sure. But do me a favor, bring you mom or dad, too. I don't think we're covered for underage kids running around."

  "Oh, do I have to? I promise I won't run around."

  "What's wrong?" she asked looking at Diane with amused suspicion. "You're not a runaway, are you?"

  Vy burst out laughing at the eyeroll she got from the girl. So that was how parents felt when she asked their "stupid" questions.

  "What's the problem?" Vy asked. "Your parents hate my music that much?"

  "No, it's not that. It's just... my dad... He doesn't usually go backstage when he's not working. And his set isn't until tomorrow night."

  "Who's your dad?"

  Diane's face scrunched and she looked behind Vy muttering something.

  Vy followed her gaze and she turned around curious.

  "Hello, Vy. And in case you don't speak teenage mutter language, I'm a dumbass."

  Andrew King held out his hand as if he was introducing himself. He let it back by his side when she made no move to shake it.

  Andrew

  He had practiced "The one who got away" every night since talking to Carter, but up to that moment, he hadn't made up his mind. It was just like his daughter to track down Vy in the middle of the crowd.

  They had arrived in Viaverde three hours earlier, and they were resting after the two hours a forty-five minutes walk at a café on the beach when Diane jumped to her feet.

  "Vy!" she exclaimed and grabbed his hand.

  "What?"

  "I saw Vy," she said, pointing out somewhere toward the hundreds of people milling about on the beach. "Come on! I'm not missing out."

  He barely had the time to take some money out of his wallet and leave them on the table when Diane was already outside the café.

  "Didn't you want to see the warm-up acts?" he said when he caught up with her.

  "Yeah, sure the warm…" Her voice trailed off and she stood on her tiptoes sticking her neck up as far as she could. "She went that way, like a moment ago. Do you think she went to the Coral beach?"

  He shrugged. He hadn't had time to wander about in the resort for at least ten years. Diane probably new Viaverde better than him.

  "Oooh," she exclaimed. "Is that her?"

  He followed her finger, and caught sight of Vy. He'd know that mass of unruly blond waves anywhere. He took Diane's hand and moved purposefully after her.

  They tried running, but they kept bumping into people. They ended up zig zagging between tourists until they were on a less crowded beach. Diane let go of his hand and ran after Vy.

  He watched them talk from a few feet away, trying to compose himself. They hadn't met face to face since they got off the plane. He'd seen her every other week when she sang at Dusk, each time promising himself it would be the last time.

  He heard Vy invite Diane backstage. Up until that moment, his mind had told him to not go through with Carter's request. He had to step in when he saw Diane look his way, embarrassed.

  "I'm a dumbass."

  It wasn't just Diane's assessment. He'd been a dumbass around Vy.

  "We'll come backstage tonight," he said.

  "I'll be on stage at ten," Vy said, the quiver in her voice making him feel like a hypocrite.

  He knew. He knew more than she was aware. He realized she would be blindsided, but for once, he had to trust that Carter knew what he was doing.

  "We'll be there a quarter to ten," he said.

  The bright smile on Diane's face helped lighten up his heart. The three of them walked back toward the main street at a sedate pace. Vy, the talker, seemed lost for words.

  "Why did you choose TC?" Diane asked. "Before the show, Dean asked you who you wanted as Captain, and you said my dad. How could you choose TC?"

  He had often wondered himself. Why had Vy chosen TC that time? Had she sensed the danger he represented for her?

  "Because he fought harder to get me on his team," she said.

  It wasn't true, and yet it was. He had watched all the episodes several times. Her audition in particular. Her angelic face mirrored the obvious conflict in her soul. The regret in her eyes when she left with Carter burned through him. He remembered the relief mingled with pain and resignation when she had made her choice.

  "I told you!" Diane said turning accusingly to him. "You lost her."

  Vy wasn't even looking at him.

  "At least Carter doesn't hide what he is."

  She had thrown the words in his face. Now they both knew what kind of man he was. Carter was a jerk, but he hadn't played with her heart.

  He wanted to run his fingers through her cascade of dark blond curls that fell almost to her waist. He'd been craving to do that every time he saw her on stage. Now she was so close.

  They parted ways when they got to the street. He glanced back in time to catch Vy's eye before she snapped her had away.

  He needed to sing with her.

  That would be the ultimate test. If he could do it, if he could sing with her on stage, he would know if it was enough to love her voice, to appreciate her as an artist.

  Next to him Diane was bouncing up and down with excitement. He had taken his her backstage when she was a toddler, but his daughter acted like it was the first time.

  "Come on! Let's look for her."

  She started walking down the corridor, her head spinning left and right like a weathervane looking for Vy.

  "Andrew," Carter said, getting out of a dressing room. "You're here."

  "As a chaperon," he said shaking Carter's hand.

  Carter looked from him to Diane. "Do you want a tour?"

  "Actually, we're here to see Vy," Diane said with as much haughtiness as he had ever heard from her.

  Her huffiness lost some of the sting because she was too out of breath from running.

  "Then allow me escort you to her room."

  Carter offered Diane his arm, and she was too shocked to refuse.

  Carter knocked at a door that simply said Changing room. When Vy opened the door, she was still pulling down a t-shirt. A simple white t-shirt. He caught a glimpse of her tanned midriff before she pulled it all the way down.

  She frowned at Carter, but her face lit up when she saw Diane.

  "I got it from here. Thanks," she told Carter.

  "Don't be late."

  She looked shocked after Carter as he walked away.

  "I don't know where that came from," Vy said. "I've been late exactly zero times at any gig, rehearsal or recording session. So, you're here for the grand tour?"

  "Yeah, sure," Diane said, "but now can you tell me why is it a secret you're here?"

  Vy smiled broadly. She probably didn't think she would ever meet someone as direct as herself.

  "It really is a secret. At least for another couple of hours."

  She cleared up a couple of chairs. Andrew sat d
own, looking at her as little as possible. It was so stupid of him to hope that he was over her.

  The white t-shirt contrasted beautifully with her tanned skin. She must have been in Viaverde for a while if she managed to get such a deep tan. He pushed away images of Vy mostly naked on the rough sand.

  "I'm going to sing with the Waves tonight instead of Carter."

  "Wow, that's massive," Diane said. "How come?"

  "It's an experiment," Vy said.

  "I kind of hoped you were going to sing Dark Dream tonight," Diane said.

  "Thanks. Me and my band were heavily into Wanderlust and Waves."

  "Your own songs are good, too," Andrew said.

  She seemed embarrassed.

  "Thanks..." Her voice trailed off. "I'm glad you gave them a chance."

  "They're good," he said. "As Diane says, Vanilla Velvet is not the same without you. They're different, but good."

  Chapter 5

  Vy

  AFTER ALL THE PRACTICE SHE GOT singing with them for the past couple of months, she was relatively calm about the technical part. The guys were fine with her and they had been very supportive about the experiment, but the duet was nerve wracking. Out of the million times they had rehearsed it, Carter had been mildly satisfied with how it sounded exactly twice.

  Why did he have to be so insane all the time? She couldn't resent him. He had broken her down and rebuilt her over the past year. She was a stronger person and a better singer thanks to him.

  As if she wasn't going crazy with nerves because she was going to sing as the Waves lead singer, even if it was for one night, HE had showed up. She desperately tried to get a handle on her emotions.

  Carter was on stage, starting to speak as the cheers died down.

  "Tonight, you will witness a ground-breaking stage in the Waves evolution. For the first time in fifteen years, the Waves has a new lead singer. Folks, hold on to your glasses, bottles and joints because tonight your world will be rocked by the Waves and Vy Cesara."

  The Viaverde audience worshiped Carter, as a god and as one of their own. Maybe they were disappointed not to hear him, but they trusted him. They roared, clapped and stomped their feet. If there was an audience ready to embrace the new, it was on the bohemian Southern Coast of Illyria.

  At first, the reaction was a reflection of their love for Carter and his songs, but with each song, she could feel how she won them over.