CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Cassie
One week later
I run backstage and, the second I’m away from the crowd, I burst into tears. I’ve just performed my whole set at Red Rock—opening for Grayson Booth, a really popular country star—and I made it through!
I followed all the steps I’ve learned to cope with my anxiety around being onstage.
I pictured the storm and walking through it.
I pictured the other side of that storm—as I sang into my mic in the centre of the stage—and I fucking made it.
I let myself picture Haden’s face as I performed and it settled me to my core. Especially when I sang his song.
I take a breath before pulling my phone out and selecting my chat with Haden. But I stop as I stare at the screen and a pang of need stabs through me. He’s not mine. I have to let him go.
“Amazing show,” Cherry says, breaking me out of my trance. She scoops me up into a hug. “Boss bitch is back.”
I return her hug, breathless. “I hope so.”
She smiles wide at me. “We missed the hell out of you. How are you feeling?”
I nod. “I’m okay.” I only thought of that poor woman seven times in the short set.
“Excellent job, Cassie. Told you that you were ready.” I hear Dax’s voice before I see him. He scoops me into a hug when he reaches me. It’s both unfeeling and cold.
“Thanks, it wasn’t easy but I feel like I’m getting—”
“Dylan!” Dax calls out to another artist as he crosses the backstage area. “Hell of a show tonight …”.
I sigh as I turn to head back to my dressing room.
“So, what are we drinking?” Cherry says as she follows. “We’re definitely celebrating.”
“Oh … I’m exhausted,” I tell her. “Tonight really took it out of me. I think I’m just gonna go back to the hotel and take a bath.”
Cherry rubs my shoulder. “I get that.”
“Where we going tonight, gang?” Darren, my drummer, calls as he heads toward us carrying a Corona.
“Boss lady is heading back, but I’m game,” Cherry replies.
Darren grins as he wraps his arms around me. “You did great, Cass. It’s so good to have you back.”
“Thanks,” I tell him with a genuine smile.
I take some time to look around me as they head out for the night.
It’s so busy and loud backstage and, as I look down at my phone, I feel the want for Haden crawl over my skin.
I wish I could text him. I miss him so much I don’t know if I can bear it.
And that’s when it hits me: despite the hundreds of people around me backstage—and the thousands out there who were watching me perform onstage—I’ve truly never ever felt more alone.
Another week passes by in a blur. My producer wasn’t happy with one of the songs I recorded so he made a special time slot for me to come back in and re-record before he travels to Utah for a week and I head back out onto the road.
I’m waiting for him to finish a call when my own phone buzzes.
The moment I see a text from Haden, my heart skips a beat.
Then sinks like a rock to the pit of my stomach.
COWBOY
She misses you.
A photo follows which takes my breath away. It’s Haden and Marlow. Haden’s face is more scruff-covered, his mustache a little fuller, and he looks tired. But he’s still so gorgeous it almost physically hurts.
She’s looking good.
COWBOY
She actually acknowledged two of the other horses today in the paddock.
She still hadn’t gone near any of the other horses by the time I left the ranch.
She’s trusting a little more then.
COWBOY
Just took her some time.
Kinda like people.
COWBOY
Kinda
How are you holding up? Are you eating out there? Getting your fair share of caramel corn and ice cream?
My stomach growls. I realize I haven’t eaten anything much today.
No. Back on the road diet. The one where caramel corn and ice cream are scarce and I forget to eat half the time. Plus, there are no cowboys here to lure me to their cabins with my favorite treats.
COWBOY
Can’t say I’m sad about that.
But Cass, if someone doesn’t get you some ice cream, I might riot.
I laugh and imagine a bag of that popcorn covering him in his bed. My chest tightens.
“Cassie.” Ned, my producer, pokes his head around the corner. “Can we chat?”
I stand and head into his office. “Sure.”
He gestures for me to sit across from him.
“You have one song on this album, the last one we recorded … it’s just not working for me with what you have so far.
I’ve been talking to Dax about it but he’s adamant he wants the whole album ready for radio play and streaming.
That’s not where the growth happens and I’ve told him this.
I just want you to know how I feel and gauge where you’re at. ”
I dip my head as he talks; it’s always hard to hear something you’ve written isn’t what someone else had hoped for. My focus has been creating songs I thought were good for airtime and will be used by social media because, let’s face it, that’s how any song gets famous these days.
“I want something that is going to rip people’s hearts out and put them back together again. You don’t happen to have any masterpieces like that lying around, do you?”
I look down at my hands then back up to him. “Well, actually, I wrote quite a bit while I was away. Dax wasn’t sure these new songs would be well received, though. They’re a lot more rustic than what I usually perform. I could sing one or two for you?”
Ned smiles. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you. Please.”
I stand and duck out to grab my guitar and laptop before bringing them back into the studio and pulling the lyrics up.
I pop my capo on my guitar and close my eyes.
I picture Haden’s face as we rode most mornings, and how he looked when he was buried deep inside me.
I remember the way we moved together, perfectly in sync, and how he looked when he was talking about Penny Lane or anything he really cared about.
And then I think about the way it felt to walk out of his cabin door two weeks ago, and start to play one of the songs I wrote for him: “Baby Be Mine.” The words, the feeling, come straight from the heart.
By the time I’m done, I have tears streaming down my face and a new song for my album.
It feels just as natural as it did when I first started singing with my sister when I was young.