CHAPTER 2
MATT
An hour later, my eyes trailed over the sign on the side of the road that said, Welcome to Iona.
A small town in Upstate New York that I’d been visiting for the past couple of months.
Knowing the route, I drove past the run-down streets that housed a diner, a town hall, and a cinema before I cut through to the edge of town, and a familiar building came into sight.
St. Mary’s Home and School for Children.
My car slowed as the vast lawn riddled with pink, purple, and blue flowers came into view. I parked my car at the usual spot and strolled to the side entrance that led straight to the hostel block.
The sound of the door swinging open made Lucia look up from her tiny desk in the small reception area.
“Mr. Evans,” Lucia greeted me with a kind smile that made the lines in her eyes crease.
“Afternoon, Lucia.”
“Right on time. They’ve been excited since morning.”
“Don’t I know it?”
“You know where to go.” She tilted her chin as her smile widened. “They’re all waiting for you.”
“Thanks.” I nodded.
The clatter and the murmurs grew louder as I approached the end of the long hallway to the double doors.
As soon as I opened the doors, a rush of rowdy brats crowded me all in an array of excitement.
A rare smile lifted my lips as I lowered myself to personally greet them. It took me about twenty minutes to say hello to every one of them, but I didn’t give a fuck about my time.
I couldn’t say no to the stories that those little ones told me. The gleam in their eyes and the smile on their lips was worth every bit of my time.
“Mr. Matt, we missed you. Are you going to watch a movie with us today?” Mitchell asked, the little one’s eyes filled with hope as she bit her lips.
“Of course I am, but first I need to see if you’ve been practicing, missy, and then movie, okay?”
“Okay,” she mumbled, giving me a toothy grin. “I’ve been practicing all week, Mr. Matt.”
“Good girl,” I whispered before I hollered to the rest of them, “Now, all of you take your places, and we’ll start in a few.”
Everyone screamed in excitement as they all scattered around the room to their designated places.
My eyes landed on the one boy who was huddled in the far corner. I smiled as I walked up to him and crouched down.
“Hey, little fella.”
“Hi,” he mumbled, pink spotting his cheeks.
“Are you not joining us?”
He shook his head, his eyes locking on me. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I’ll only be a distraction.”
“Did someone say that?”
“No,” he muttered, casting his eyes downward. “No one says it out loud, but I know.”
“Hey.” I squeezed his shoulder, bringing his gaze back to me. “If no one says it, then they probably don’t think it. Don’t listen to the voice in your head, kid. Look, they’re all waiting for you.”
He blinked, his long eyelashes curving over his bright brown eyes as he slid his hesitant gaze toward the rest. They were all looking at him with excitement twinkling in their eyes.
Mitchell stepped forward, eyeing us. “Aren’t you coming, Luka?”
“See, they want you,” I said in a low tone. “What do you say?”
“Yes, Matty,” he whispered, flashing a sweet smile that softened my heart.
I didn’t love easily, but that boy had a special place in my heart.
Probably because he reminded me of the boy I once was.
The boy who needed saving.
The boy who felt this world was doomed.
The boy who was lost.
I didn’t like to keep favorites where I volunteered, but Luka wormed his way into my heart from the moment I met him.
Anger thundered through my veins, and my heart ached with pain when I heard his story. Barely six and his life was a nightmare before it even started.
For the first five years of his life, Luka had more broken bones than the average adult. All because of the system’s failure. Since birth, Luka was bounced between several foster homes and his last one nearly starved him to death before the CPS found him.
But thankfully, he ended up here.
Unlike the places I used to volunteer back in LA, which were flashy and used my fame for their photo op, St. Mary’s was different. They truly cared about their children and, at first, were even hesitant when I requested to volunteer because they worried my popularity could disrupt the children’s lives.
But I assured them that no harm would come from me, and the press would never get a word of it.
Although they were skeptical, Lucia and Peter, the couple who ran this place, soon warmed up to me after seeing I was genuinely interested in making an effort for the kids rather than for the press.
“Well, come on then,” I said, holding out my hand. “Let’s go.”
“Okay,” he said with a cheery grin.
And soon, my strict explanation of how to play the drums dissolved into thin air as they all started smashing it to their own content, giggling. Rather than be an asshole about it like I usually was when it came to respecting the instrument, I let them be because nothing compared to the joy in their tiny faces.
All these children came from different walks of life, some abandoned and some traumatized, and if I could at least bring an ounce of happiness into their lives, it made my day.
I watched as the little minions ran around, stealing other drumsticks and smacking each other’s kits even though they all had their own.
I brought them all their own kits and spoiled them even though Peter and Lucia didn’t want to encourage my kindness. They worried the kids might get used to it, but I wanted them to get used to it because I wasn’t going anywhere.
I donated a monumental sum of money to make sure all their needs were met.
I promised myself that when I started making the kind of money that some people could only dream of, I would only keep what I needed while I donated the rest.
Some needed it a lot more than me.
Everyone was having the time of their lives except for one.
Luka sat by his kit in the corner, his face pinched in an adorable frown as he tried hard to nail a four-by-four backbeat. He was sad that he couldn’t learn a basic beat and keep up with his classmates, and my heart squeezed that he was trying hard.
I slowly sidestepped the chaos and made my way to Luka.
“Hey, looks like you’ve been working hard. Why don’t you go have fun with the others?”
“No.” He shook his head, a determined look on his face. “I want to practice more. I want to be perfect.”
Something about the way he said it tugged my heart, so for the next thirty minutes, I sat by his side and went over the beat over and over again till he finally got it right.
And when he did, he jumped into my arms, grinning.
I clutched him tight to me. “You were perfect.”
“You think so?” he asked, wide-eyed. A piece of this thick chestnut hair fell over his precious brown eyes.
“I know so.”
He grinned wider, and my breath hitched.
Fuck, this kid’s got me in a chokehold, and I’ve only known him for months.
I ordered everyone pizza that night, and just like Mitchell requested, we settled into huge bean bags laid across the floor to watch The Princess and the Frog despite the protests from the boys. The only compromise that made them calmer was when I suggested we watch the Pirates of the Caribbean next week.
Luka stayed by my side, his head on my shoulder as we watched the movie while Mitchell sat on his other side, explaining every single aspect of the movie to him, which he quietly listened to. She was the only friend he tolerated for some reason, well, her and I. He still wasn’t used to the normal world, and humans haven’t been the kindest to him, so it would take some time for him to have faith in humanity again.
“Are you going to come back, Matty?” Luka asked me later that evening when I hugged him goodbye.
“Of course, I am. You’re not going to lose me anytime soon.”
“Okay.” He nodded, waving as he returned to the building.
Lucia and Quill, one of the other staff, ushered them all inside. They all spent the last hour playing, and now it was time to study.
I waited till they were all back inside before I left, and instead of heading straight to my car, I decided to walk around for a while.
The sun was still peeking through, the rays of orange bleeding with blue and the whites of the clouds. The temperature dropped to a calming chill, and I wouldn’t get an opportunity to walk like this in the city, so I took it.
Iona was a pretty small town with barely any population. It reminded me of Bellevue, the town I grew up in, a place that would always be my home, no matter the glitzy and glamorous cities I lived in.
I hoped someday I could go back to Bellevue and settle my roots there.
But that day wasn’t anytime soon because I still had a lot to do.
A lot to accomplish.
No one batted an eye as I walked farther, as the lush trees that lined the road danced with the wind. And before I knew it, I reached the town square, which was buzzing with activity for the upcoming weekend.
A faint sound of music filtered through the air as I neared a small crowd gathered in the corner. The music became louder, and my curious feet dragged me right toward it.
As soon as the sound became clear, I froze.
A boy, no older than sixteen, sported a smug expression, wearing a worn-down leather jacket while crooning into the microphone. But that wasn’t what caught my attention. It was the way his fingers glided along his guitar, flowing like the curves of a river, so fluid yet deliberate.
A natural.
His notes clung in the air, wonky toward the edges and jarring at times, but they all intertwined, creating a rhythm that melted into one smooth melody.
A melody that wasn’t just notes blending into one, but a melody that held something else, something more, something heavier.
Emotion—thick yet subtle in the undertones as the tune floated over them like silk—they weren’t just dead notes on an instrument. They had life, almost like they were alive.
It had color, sharpness, and poignance.
Layers and layers of it, creating a masterpiece.
Perfection.
The kind of perfection that I’d only seen a few people achieve in my life.
The kind of perfection I craved in an artist.
An artist I wanted to create perfection with.
I lingered in the crowd till they all faded, and the boy, who introduced himself as Raphael, thanked the crowd with a ridiculously cocky goodbye.
I hovered till no one was left between him and me, then approached him when he crouched to the ground to pack his guitar.
My footsteps filled his field of vision as he lifted his eyes to me. “Can I help…?” Raphael’s eyes widened as his mouth gaped. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?” he muttered in disbelief.
“You’re good,” I said.
He shot up to his feet. “No, wait.” He took a baffled step toward me, waving his hand at my face. “This isn’t real, right?”
“If it’s my presence you question, then yes, this is very real.”
He blinked once.
Then twice.
Before he burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he folded over. “Fuck, man, you almost got me there. This is the best fucking prank ever. I’ll admit my defeat.”
I frowned, watching him laugh like a lunatic. “This isn’t a prank,” I said flatly.
His laughter died as he straightened up and eyed me once again. Silence ensued before he asked, “You’re Matt Evans?”
“Yes.”
“The Matt Evans?”
“I don’t know anyone else by that name, so yes.”
“Like the drummer?”
“Yes.”
“You’re telling me that Matt Evans, the most popular rock star in the world, is speaking to me in the middle of nowhere, Iona?”
I sighed. “We can go about this a hundred different ways, but it won’t change the fact that I am Matt Evans.”
He arched a brow, taken aback. “What are you doing here?”
“I know someone here.” I gave him a vague response, just in case he turned out to be one of the crazy fans. I’ve had a fair share of them through the years, and they weren’t really my favorite. “Like I said, you’re good.”
He smirked. “I know.”
“You can be better. I want to sign you.”
“Okay.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “This is definitely now a prank.”
“Look, kid.” I pinned him with a stare. “I don’t have time to waste. I think you have incredible talent, a kind I haven’t seen in a while. I can see your potential. It’s not news yet, but I’m starting my own label. I want you to be my debut artist.”
He scoffed. “Okay, next, are you telling me you have a pony show and need me as a rider?”
“No. I said what I said. I don’t joke,” I replied, staring at him blankly.
He crossed his arms, rolling his eyes as he regarded me, but I didn’t say a word.
“Wait.” Raphael choked. “You’re actually serious?”
“Yes,” I firmed.
“You mean sign me like an artist? Meaning I get to be a famous singer, play shows, and make albums? That only happens in the fucking movies for people like me.”
“I was you once.” A slight breeze rustled over us. “Yet here I am. And you can be too. Opportunities like this don’t come often, and when they come, you take them.” I reached for my wallet and pulled out my card. “Here, I’ll be here the same time next week. Hope you make a decision by then. I won’t wait around forever.”
He stood there, gawking as I handed him my card.
I gave him a curt nod and spun around.
“You better not be fooling me.” I heard him call out from somewhere in the distance, but I didn’t bother correcting him.
The decision was left to him.
I wasn’t the one to make a reckless move like this.
I usually was tactful, meticulous, and strategic.
I followed my head rather than my heart.
But this time, something told me I was right.
Something told me this was going to lead me to something else.
I don’t know what, but it sparked an unusual fire in my heart.