4. Chapter One
Chapter One
Lila
Has Lila Wilde Fallen Off?
By Perez Adder
After her last album’s release, critics and fans are wondering what happened to the woman we once loved. In the last few years, her music has become increasingly shallow. Of course, her fans are unlikely to care as her music still charts with every release.
But for the rest of us not in her cult, we wonder if she’s lost her writing talent entirely. When will we hear her more profound songs again? Is she doomed to be a basic pop-song factory forever?
Fans are awaiting her next album, which is expected to be as shallow as this one. I’ll have more news as it develops.
4,658 comments
Babytali: Leave her alone. Her music is so catchy!
ATwistedTheory: No, this article has a point. She’s all dance moves and pop now. She used to release stuff talking about fear of fame, feeling alone, and being left behind. Where are those songs?
Bambi: Not everyone wants to be fucking sad all the time . . .
IsaIsa: All of this arguing is missing one thing. Does SHE look happy with her music? I mean, she does all the interviews and stuff, but when was the last time she actually looked proud of what she was singing? Even in concerts, her eyes look dead.
Babytali: You don’t know her so stfu
I finished the final song to the sounds of thunderous applause. It was eleven at night and I was on my second encore. I should have stopped, but the cheering fans kept begging for more and I’d always had one extra song for them.
Blaze was in the crowd and people’s phones went from me to him, filming his overzealous reactions to my ending.
“Please give it up for my wonderful band,” I called into the microphone, “who’s played amazingly for you all night. And for my backup dancers too!”
This would be where I would give a shout-out to Blaze in the audience. It had been a tradition since my first concert when I’d been so overwhelmed with nerves that he had to be in the front row, cheering me on.
I could feel the crowd waiting for me to mention him, as if they were collectively holding their breaths.
But I couldn’t. The image of his lips on another woman’s a few weeks before flashed in my mind. When it happened, we’d been on a break from shows, though I’d still been practicing with my team. This was the first time we were back, and I was expected to perform as usual.
“Thank you all!” I said instead. “Have a great night!”
I exited the stage without another look at him.
My scalp was itchy from wearing the wig for so long. I was ready to get out of this bright minidress. I wanted my fake eyelashes off, but I couldn’t do that until I was completely alone.
I took an unsteady breath. I could still hear the audience cheering. The band played the closing notes as the door to my dressing room opened.
“Are you kidding me?” a voice asked. “Way to add fuel to the fire, Lila.”
Blaze had come after me.
I’d barely talked to him since I found out. We both knew the final shows of the tour would be hard now that I’d seen him with someone else. So far, none of the fans were aware that anything was wrong, but I expected speculation after this.
“Post the photos of us from spring, then,” I said. “It’ll distract from the rumors.”
“We can’t break up,” he replied. “You know that you have to get over this, right? There are engagement rumors that we have to fulfill. The fans expect it.”
I knew. I knew better than anyone else, but I had nothing else to say to him.
“The silent treatment? Really? You better have this together when we go to the next show tomorrow night.”
I still didn’t answer.
“You’re always so immature. I need to find Mia. She’ll talk some sense into you.”
When he finally walked away, I could breathe again. I needed him to stay gone so I could figure out what the hell I wanted to do.
But Mia was coming and she’d reiterate everything Blaze had just unnecessarily reminded me of.
The fans would be disappointed. He would be disappointed. Rick would be disappointed if he were alive. And considering Mia was his daughter, she knew what he’d feel.
It was all too much. My throat was closing up and my chest ached. After shows, I was always a little jumpy, but the reminder that I was about to get lectured made it all worse.
I didn’t do this. I didn’t disappoint people.
But I couldn’t thank him when his betrayal was so fresh.
Mia walked into the dressing room, hand on her hip, blue eyes narrowed in my direction. She’d always looked sharp, especially with her severe dark brown bob—even when I’d originally met her at sixteen. But now, her pointy edges hurt . “Really?”
“I couldn’t.”
“You have to. You said yourself that you didn’t want rumors.”
I pressed my lips together.
“Just get in the car. We’re leaving.”
“Shouldn’t we meet with fans?”
“I canceled that. The last thing we need is for you to make this worse. Come on.”
I followed her to the armored car, feeling like a petulant child. Not meeting the fans was the harshest punishment she could dole out. The people who supported me were my everything.
Still, I couldn’t wait to get back to my hotel for the night where I could be blissfully alone. Only then could I get out of my Lila costume and be myself for a bit.
The Nashville lights hurt my eyes, and I counted the seconds until we got to the airport.
I’d only been here on tour and I didn’t know where I was, but the buildings grew taller, the roads more congested. This didn’t match the way we’d come in.
“Why are we going downtown?”
“Have you ever heard of exposure therapy?”
I frowned, but then I saw what she was talking about: Blaze, surrounded by cameras.
“No,” I protested.
“Yes. You’re going to go on a romantic walk with him down Broadway. Now.”
“I can’t.”
“We all make sacrifices for this. You’re the couple. Now, go and be a couple.”
She pushed me out of the car and I had a moment before the cameras knew I was there. I was still in my tour outfit, and after singing for hours, I hadn’t had any water.
Mia was probably right. I needed to do this. I needed to get over this thing with Blaze. People wanted us together. Our love songs were what sold albums.
But my feet didn’t want to walk toward him. I didn’t want to do a pap walk. I wanted to be alone and to get out of this damn wig.
So, instead of doing my job, I ran.
I ducked into an alley, hand going to my hairline. It was glued on, as always, before the show. Ripping it off would hurt, but I could get it off and leave it somewhere. Usually, I’d never take this kind of risk, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Then I heard something in the dark of the alley. I yelped, turning around with my hands raised in some version of self-defense.
But I dropped them when I saw the man before me.
Long, dark blond hair piled on his head in a bun that put any of mine to shame. His brows were darker than his hair and matched the short, well-trimmed beard framing the lower half of his face. He was kept, yet unkempt. He screamed mess but in an organized way.
And his eyes were widened in my direction. “You’re—”
“Please don’t say my name,” I said breathlessly. “There are reporters just around the block.”
“I’m well aware.”
I opened my mouth, but I could hear the cameras coming. In the background, I heard Mia calling my name. She was angry, and it made me want to hide even more.
“Can I come in?” I asked.
“Do you even know where you are?”
“N-no, but I’d rather be inside and away from that .” I pointed in the direction of the commotion. This man could have been a serial killer for all I knew, but in that moment, it was better than being seen with Blaze.
He stared at me like I was a fool, and to be fair, I was. But he pressed his palm on the door behind him and opened it wide.
I didn’t waste any time darting inside. Once the door was closed, I realized I was alone in a dark room with a stranger.
I should have been afraid, but I wasn’t.
The lights flipped on, and I took in my new surroundings. I saw an old tile floor and stainless-steel appliances.
“I hope you don’t make a habit of asking men you don’t know if you can come into random buildings,” my savior said.
“I don’t. You must be the exception.”
His eyes met mine, and I could have sworn he was seeing through my soul.
“Make sure I’m the only one.”
“Why?”
“Because I know I’d never do a thing to hurt you,” his voice was low. “I can’t say the same for others.”
My heart kicked into gear, but for an entirely different reason.
My eyes trailed over his features once more. He was the kind of man who I could write songs about.
A man who’s indescribable, yet I wanted to try.
The lyric popped into my head, which had been abnormally silent for the last few weeks, except for the angry, hurt words pouring out of me. This was the longest I’d gone without writing anything good .
“I can’t thank you enough,” I said, voice wavering. “I could, um, pay you for your time?”
“I don’t care about money.”
“You have to want something.” People always did, and I always found a way to give it to them.
“I want to know why you were panicking in an alleyway and running from a slew of paparazzi.”
Ah. Well, that was a bit more complicated.
“Would you believe me if I said I was just tired?”
“Probably, since you just had a concert, but you usually do fan meetings.”
Just how much did he know about me? He didn’t look like my typical sort of fan.
“Those were canceled for . . .?” I looked outside, thinking of the chaos Mia had called to photograph Blaze and me in the street. “Don’t worry about it. It’s really not that interesting of a story.”
The corner of his lip quirked up. “Try me.”
It had been a while since someone cared about me . My career was about others. At first, it was pleasing the fans by revealing the depths of my soul. But then Mia had taken over Rick’s place and she’d told me they didn’t want to hear me whine about my life. They wanted dance hits.
In my midnight social media doomscrolling, I saw some weren’t happy. They missed my old stuff.
But then Mia showed me the records I was breaking, which shut me up.
However, the doubt always continued. No matter what I did, someone was always disappointed in me.
The man standing before me was different than the company I’d kept over the last few years. He’d turned down the money and asked me a question. This was a clean slate, someone I didn’t know yet, and it was exciting.
That must have been why I answered.
“I was supposed to be seen with Blaze and I couldn’t do it.”
“Blaze, huh? What did he do to you this time?”
“How do you know he did anything to me before?”
“You try to be subtle in your dissatisfaction with him, but it’s a little like a sledgehammer to those who listen enough.”
“So you’ve heard my songs?” I asked, heart skipping a beat again.
“Every word.” His voice was soft. “So, tell me, what did he do?”
“He lost focus,” I said, eyes closing as I remembered that waitress. “I don’t know if I can talk about it.”
Not without a nondisclosure agreement at least, and I didn’t know how to bring that up to a man I didn’t know. Usually, Mia handled that.
Through the door, I heard people searching for me, calling my name. Blaze had joined in, his voice the loudest. They must have been in the alley.
I closed my eyes. I could see the pictures of him valiantly searching for me. It was as vivid as his lips on another woman’s.
“You’re safe here. They don’t know where you are.”
The words soothed me more than I could let on. “S-so, where am I? What’s this safe place called?”
“A bar. It’s called Movers and Shakers.”
“One of those legendary country bars I hear Nashville has?”
He chuckled. “Not exactly.”
“What else is there here?”
“Nashville’s a city of music. All kinds of music. I showcase it all. Plus the occasional dance night.”
“You dance?”
“Not really,” he said.
I could picture him twirling a woman around a dance floor—one who’d managed to snag his attention.
“What about with the right person?”
“Are you offering?” he asked slowly.
“Oh, no. I’m exhausted from my show. I mean someone who’s not . . . me.”
“Maybe.”
“Then I hope you meet her soon.”
His eyes were on mine, and I could have sworn he saw right through me, down to the person I hid. “Anything is possible.”
Stormy eyes that matched my soul.
Shit. I would have a whole song before the night was over.
The sounds of the reporters faded. I could have snuck out after they were gone, but I didn’t want to.
“What does the front of this place look like?”
“Do you want to see it?”
“Yes.”
“And you have time?”
“Why are you worried about my schedule?”
“You’re one of the biggest musicians in the world. I assume you’re busy.”
Musicians. Not just a pop star.
God, I missed that distinction.
“Not really,” I admitted. “But I’ll steal it.”
Robbing myself for borrowed moments with you.
I’d need to get to my notebook the moment I left.
“You don’t have to be polite, you know. I’d happily let you go if you have somewhere to be.”
Show me more.
I shook my head. “No need to let me go. I want to see the front of the bar.”
“Follow me, then.”
He walked me into another room. One with vaulted ceilings and a stage. “I bet this place is pretty cool when it’s lit up.”
Then the lights turned on and I saw pink and teal neon everywhere.
“You get the full service,” he said. “Even if we’re closed for the night. And don’t worry. All the windows are blacked out.”
As lights danced above me, my mind memorized everything because I knew I’d return to it in my dreams.
“I didn’t know Nashville had a place like this.”
“There are interesting things everywhere if you look hard enough.”
“That’s my problem,” I said. “Touring doesn’t allow for much tourism.”
“I imagine not.” He walked behind the bar, grabbing a glass. “What are you having?”
“Soda water and cranberry juice.”
“Not a drinker?”
“I’d reveal too much,” I said, shaking my head.
“The last thing we’d want is for you to do that.” Maybe I’d been imagining it, but it sounded like me revealing too much was exactly what he wanted me to do.
And if things were different, I would be happy to tell him everything.
It was a terrifying thought.
Barry
I’d been relieved when we decided to close the bar early tonight. Finally, after a long day of work, no one was around and I could finally think straight.
That was when I saw Lila Wilde in my alleyway.
For a second, I thought I’d been dreaming. What were the odds that the woman I spent most of my lonely hours with was in the alleyway of my bar? But then I saw her face full of fear, and I knew that even in my dreams, I never wanted to see that again.
That annoying little voice in my head, one I usually tried to ignore, had whispered, Save her.
And I listened.
Now I was staring at the woman whose words I’d listened to a hundred times, borderline flirting with her.
Keep it cool, Barry. Don’t fucking blow this.
I’d bought every album since I found her. Whenever I was in a bad mood, I listened to her words to remind me of something better. I’d taught myself the guitar strings instead of doing my homework.
In the strangest way, I felt like I knew her. Or at least, she knew me. Her voice, even when not singing, was the only one I’d allowed in over these years.
And now she was here , and I had no idea how to exist with her in my orbit. It was temporary, I knew that. But I could only hope I made it good enough for her to remember me.
“I wish I could be here when it’s open,” Lila said.
“Can’t you?”
She shook her head. “The minute people find out I’m here, you’ll be swarmed.”
“I could handle it.”
She gave me a wistful smile as if she knew I definitely could not. “That might be harder than you think.”
“I’m always up for a challenge.”
Anything challenging would be worth having her next to me longer.
“It’s okay. I’m not going to subject you to it.” She took another sip. “So, what do you do for fun, mystery man?”
“My name is Barry.”
“Barry? Is that short for anything?”
“Nope. My parents named me after some suit-and-tie businessman.”
“I can’t see you in a suit and tie.”
“I happen to agree.”
I didn’t usually tell people about my family. My employees didn’t even know about the people who raised me, but Lila broke through my walls without even trying. And I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.
She didn’t know who I was, yet I knew every word she’d sung and put out in the world. I knew her life and I wanted her to know about mine.
It would push her away. No one wanted to hear my sob story, but with the way she was talking, this was my only chance with her.
I wouldn’t waste it.
“And what about fun?” she asked. “You never answered that.”
“I tend to the bar. I make sure everyone’s happy. And . . . I play guitar.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“I do. Sometimes I take the stage if an artist cancels.”
“Wow,” she said. “I bet everyone loves that.”
They did, but not because of me. I sang her songs and no one could deny her talent. Especially when I sang the ones no one knew. “Not as much as they love you, I’m sure. You’ll be releasing a new album soon, right? You do it every few years.”
Her eyes fell to her drink. “I should be. We have another tour set up, but I might not meet my deadlines. I haven’t written anything my agent’s liked in ages.”
“I have a hard time believing that.”
“Everyone wants love songs from me, but I don’t have any left. All I have are not what fans would like.”
“Can you show me?”
My heart pounded in my chest. I hadn’t been able to attend her concerts in the years since I opened the bar.
“I don’t have a whole song written.” Her eyes lifted to mine. “But I do have some ideas. If you wouldn’t mind sharing your guitar, I can show you those.”
My heart raced as I nodded. I had one in the back that I’d played tonight.
Once she had it in her hands, she walked on the stage, sitting on the one stool I’d left. The lights seemed to dim despite me not touching them, focusing only on her.
“This is what I have.”
She played a chord, which was lower than most of her songs.
And she let out lyrics I’d never heard from her before. They were angry and spiteful.
And it could only be about one man.
The song stopped abruptly, her face twisting in frustration. “That’s all there is. I didn’t finish it because my agent didn’t like it.”
“Your agent is an idiot,” I said, and she slowly lifted her head.
“You liked it?”
“I did.”
“But I don’t think my fans would. They want love songs. And I’m . . . not in love. So they’re hard to write.”
I sucked in a surprised breath. She wasn’t in love with Blaze? She caught my slip and her hazel eyes trained on me. I carefully placed my calm exterior back on my face. “They would get used to it.”
“Then you haven’t seen all the fan edits.” She handed me the guitar. “He cheated on me, you know. That’s when I wrote that.”
I jerked back. He cheated on her ? How did a man have someone like Lila fucking Wilde and then blow it by cheating? And how did she not murder him when she found out?
I’d do it for her if she asked, and the conviction I felt was almost terrifying.
Lila let out a long sigh, looking at her feet. “I’m so angry, Barry.”
“You should be.”
“But I still have a job to do. So, we’re pretending everything is fine.”
“Nothing is fine. He cheated on you and you’re allowed to be angry about it. You’re a human, Lila.”
She looked out the blackened windows, where people searched for her. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be.”
“You’re always supposed to be human. That’s the best part about any of us. That’s what’s good about your music.”
Her eyes met mine again, one corner of her mouth lifting. “My old music, you mean.”
“Your new stuff isn’t all that bad. You still write it.”
“And apparently, it breaks records and puts me in the number one spot.”
“No. Don’t worry about that kind of stuff. It gets you nowhere.”
She blinked at the harsh tone that escaped me. I regretted letting it slip, but the talk about breaking records reminded me a little too much of my parents.
And they’d always be a sore spot for me.
“You sound like you speak from experience.”
“A little. My parents are the kind of people who only care about accomplishments. I got out of there quickly.”
Her eyes trailed around the bar. “You’re doing well for yourself.”
Please. Tell me that again.
I’d mastered never needing anyone to compliment me.
Except for her.
“I think I am too. Who needs parental approval when you’ve built a successful business out of nothing? Besides, I’ve always given them a hard time.”
“How so?”
“My dad wanted me to work at his company. In some suit and tie. It was never for me. But they both never hesitate to let me know that I’m messing things up.”
“But look at this place.”
“They don’t see it that way. But I showed them. If you go look out there”—I pointed to the front window—“you’ll see a tall building with the name Murray and Sons on it. I put up my sign right in sight of his office so every time he works late, he can see exactly how much I am nothing like him.”
“His logo looks . . .?”
“Like a dick? Yeah, there’s a whole Reddit account dedicated to it. I may or may not have started it.”
She laughed. “That’s a level of petty I aspire to be.” Her eyes went distant for a moment. Then she turned to me. “Do you have a pen and a napkin?”
I nodded and brought them to her. She scribbled down something, dark hair obscuring her face.
“What do you think of this?”
A man designed to live in his father’s shadow, all he had were expectations.
So he built a castle in the dark corners, erasing all that preparation.
“Is that . . . about me?”
“Yeah.” A small smile crossed her face. “You’re inspiring.”
“It’s . . .?” Amazing. Cherished. Something to literally pass out over. “Brilliant.”
“Really? I could write more.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Something about your hair or your eyes.”
“My hair and eyes are usually a point of contention.”
“Why?”
“I don’t look like my dad. And to a self-serving narcissist like him, he took it as an insult.”
“You look exactly how you should,” she said, her eyes trailing over my features.
Having my idol look at me like that turned my insides to mush. I’d met many women, yet none of them had ever made me feel like this.
Her phone beeped and her eyes moved from mine. She frowned as she read the screen.
“Please tell me it’s not your boyfriend.”
“No, my security guard. She’s here to get me.”
“How did she know where you were?”
“She has my location in case I ever get lost.”
“Do you have to go?”
“Yes. I should probably stop hiding.” She handed me my guitar. “Sorry I couldn’t stay longer.”
“I’m glad I had you even for a few moments.”
“I still feel like I owe you something for hiding me.”
“There is one thing.”
An eyebrow raised.
“Don’t forget me, even when you meet more interesting people.”
Her lips turned upward. “I can promise you that I won’t.”