The Scientist

Chapter 35

I leaned my head against the window of the airplane watching as thousands of shimmering lights came into view. There it was… New York City.

It had been almost a year since I’d seen her last. The concrete giants that shaped the city’s skyline looked pencil-thin beneath me. The sun had set, but the city that never sleeps had light blazing from every vantage point, illuminating the night sky, beckoning me home.

I couldn’t believe I was back. The emotions stirring inside me felt both hollow and deep. Memories flooded my mind as the roaring sound of the plane landing on the runway of JFK filled the cabin. The first time I’d ever flown had been with my dad, and it was just a quick flight to the Jersey Shore for summer vacation. Nothing like the cross-country journey I’d just taken from San Francisco to get here.

As I walked the city’s streets, I pulled my coat tighter around my body, the wind whipping across my face. It was drizzling and about thirty degrees out. Welcome to New York!

I finally made it back to my old neighborhood in Greenwich Village, and the soundscape that had been a constant in my life for so long surrounded me once again—bustling crowds, the continual murmur of traffic, the hum of distant sirens, all blending together to sing New York’s distinctive melody. I realized how much I’d missed it.

I took the elevator up to my old apartment before setting my things down and knocking on the door. I’d been subleasing the apartment to Garrett’s sister, Sophie, and she said I could stay with her for the duration of my time here.

I tried knocking again, but no answer. After waiting a few minutes longer, I tried calling Sophie, but it went straight to voicemail. I didn’t want to barge in, but I also didn’t want to wait out here forever. I fished the keys out from my purse before letting myself in.

“Soph?” I called out. “It’s me.” Still no answer. I heard a rustling sound coming from the bedroom, so I went to investigate.

“Sophie?” I said, pushing the door open slowly and nearly jumping out of my skin when I spotted a man hunched over next to my bed.

I let out a horrified scream, startling the man as he cried out in response.

“Shit, Hadley!” I heard Garrett shout. “You scared me half to death! What are you doing here?”

“Me?!” I said, clutching my chest, waiting for my heart to slow. “What are you doing here?”

He stood up, resting his hands on his hips as if trying to catch his breath.

“Sophie called me freaking out,” he explained. “Said she saw a mouse run under the bed and was refusing to go back inside the apartment until it had been apprehended, so I came over to help.”

I let out a long breath. On the upside, at least it wasn’t a bird.

“I’m surprised she didn’t set the house on fire,” I said, remembering the time she nearly fainted during rehearsals when a lizard had crawled onstage.

“Don’t worry. I’m taking the matches with me just in case,” he said, and I smirked.

“So did you catch it?” I asked.

“Not yet. I was putting a few traps out when you came in,” he answered. “Sorry I scared you. Sophie didn’t tell me you were coming.”

I wasn’t surprised. It was a sore subject, and we usually avoided talking about her brother anytime we spoke.

“Yeah, I’m just here for the weekend. Logan’s been hounding me to work on a new album with him,” I said, and he nodded.

My mom had finished her cancer treatments close to a month ago and was doing better than ever. It seemed like every week she was getting closer to looking like her old self again. She’d put a little bit of weight back on, and I was happy to see the color returning to her face. I finally felt comfortable enough to leave her for longer than a day, so with Logan’s relentless harassment, I took the opportunity to get away and get my mind off… things.

“Well, I’ll get out of your hair,” he said. “If you hear a snapping sound from under your bed, it means the criminal’s been detained.”

I made a face. “Welcome home,” I said sarcastically.

He chuckled before grabbing his coat and heading toward the door.

“I’ll text Sophie to let her know the traps have been set for the intruder if she wants to come back,” I told him.

“She probably won’t come within a mile of this place with Chuck E. Cheese still on the loose.”

I laughed. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I agreed. “Thanks for the pest control services.”

He gave me a warm smile. “It was good to see you again.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Just as he reached the door, he turned to me and said, “Did you mean what you said before?”

I looked at him, confused. “What did I say?”

“Before I left California… You said we could try being friends again once you got back.”

I was apprehensive about where he was going with this. “I’m not back. I’m just here for the weekend.”

He gave me a half-grin. “Could we try to be friends for the weekend then?”

I studied him for a moment, wondering if this was a terrible idea. “What did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking we could go grab dinner at O’Hara’s,” he suggested. “Just as friends of course,” he added quickly.

Nope, nuh-uh, definitely not. “Okay,” I heard myself say. Internal facepalm. Damn my pathological people-pleasing ways.

Minutes later, I found myself walking side by side with my ex-boyfriend, heading around the corner to the restaurant bar that had once been a favorite of ours. They had these coconut shrimp I still sometimes dreamt about. A strong feeling of déjà vu came over me as we sat at the same high-top table near the window that had once been “our” spot.

After we removed our jackets and got settled, all that was left to do was stare at one another awkwardly. Garrett gave me a tight smile that I returned.

“We’re going to need drinks, aren’t we?” he asked.

“Yup,” I agreed quickly.

He grinned before going over to the bar and ordering for us. He hadn’t asked, but clearly, he remembered my drink order as he walked back with a Manhattan in hand. I didn’t know how to feel about it.

The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on me—the fact that I was back in New York having a casual dinner with the man I might have still been in a relationship with had I never left.

“So, how’s your mom?” Garrett asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“She’s doing great actually.” It felt so good to say that. I knew in my bones that if I’d never met Lex, my mom and I would be planning our return home to NYC now that she was on the mend… But maybe that wasn’t true at all. The harrowing thought crossed my mind that I’d probably be returning home alone had I never met him.

I took a large swallow of my drink.

“And um… how’s the scientist?” he asked.

Pain gnawed at the open wound I still carried at the mention of Lex.

“He’s fine,” I said quickly, hoping to move on.

It had been nearly three months since Lex left for Sweden.

I don't know what I expected. He made it clear he didn't want to try and continue a relationship with me, but I still never could have imagined it would play out the way that it did. For the first month, we talked almost every single day, and a glimmer of hope took root inside me—that maybe he'd changed his mind, maybe he did want to try after all. But it wasn’t long before our conversations began to grow less frequent, and each day that passed without a message felt heavier, until the hope I'd clung to eventually began to fade.

Our conversations now were few and far between, and they were mostly centered around checking in on my mom. He started blaming it on the time difference as to why he was never available to speak, and after so many unreturned calls, I eventually gave up trying… And it seemed he did as well.

“So, what is it then?” Garrett asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You look so different from the last time I saw you.”

I smiled. “Not this again.”

He chuckled lightly. “No, I just mean that the last time we saw each other you seemed so happy. It stung that I wasn’t the one making you look that way, but it actually helped me move on knowing that at least you were happy. But now…”

“Now what?”

“Now you just look miserable,” he said plainly. “Is it me? We don’t have to do this.”

Misery was my constant companion these days, though I tried to hide it. I didn’t want my mom to have to worry about me on top of everything she had going on, but if Garrett picked up on it within ten minutes of us being together, then I knew there was no way my mom hadn’t noticed.

I was practically living with her at this point. I would go to work, bring her to her appointments, we’d have dinner together, and I’d fall asleep on her couch. Rinse and Repeat. I couldn’t stomach being at my house. It felt like torture to be in the same bed Lex had slept in with me night after night, his scent still lingering on the sheets. The only outlier to my routine was when I’d meet up with Sarah, and we’d commiserate over how much we hated Sweden. Jace, as it turns out, was much more of a willing participant in trying to make long distance work. Sarah said he’d call every single night, which meant he was getting up early every morning just so they could talk. The time difference didn’t seem to matter so much to them.

“No.” I shook my head. “No, it’s not you.”

“Then…”

I sighed. “I’m still trying to figure things out with…” I couldn’t even say his name without feeling my chest tighten.

“Are you guys not together anymore?”

Tears filled my eyes, but I fought them back down. I wasn’t going to cry about this in front of Garrett.

“No,” I admitted in a small voice. “He took a job in Sweden and... things just didn't work out.”

I waited for Garrett to gloat or make mention of the fact that this was yet another relationship I’d failed because of distance. But he didn’t. He was looking at me with concern in his eyes.

“Listen, I’ve been wanting to apologize for the way I acted when I came to California,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done it. I knew things were over, but I didn’t want to accept it.”

I nodded and muttered, “Thanks.”

He looked at me pointedly and said, “Letting someone you love go isn’t as easy as everyone makes it seem.”

I don’t know why that struck me so hard. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. Were Garrett and I two sides of the same coin? Was I refusing to see the signs that things were over between Lex and I?

I don’t know how long I was caught up in my own reverie, but the sound of Garrett’s thumbs drumming on the table as he clutched his beer brought me back to reality. It was always his tell when he was anxious.

“Sorry,” I said, eyeing his hands. “I didn’t mean to space out.”

“No worries,” he said but his thumbs continued tapping on the table.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No, why?”

“Because it sounds like you’re trying to recreate the drum solo toIn the Air Tonighton our table.”

His fingers immediately froze before his mouth curled into a grin.“I didn’t realize I was doing that.”

“It’s your nervous tick,” I reminded him.

He smiled. “Remember when we saw Phil Collins in the elevator at the Skylark?”

“How could I forget?” I said, grinning. “You broke out into a cold sweat and ended up challenging him to a thumb war.”

“It was all I could think to say!”

I laughed. “You couldn’t come up with anything better than trying to declare a thumb war?”

“He had abnormally small thumbs. It was a no-brainer,” he stated. “I think he was about to accept the challenge if his security wouldn’t have body-checked me into the wall.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” I said, chuckling. “But I appreciate your commitment to your own idea of reality.”

He burst into laughter, and I couldn’t help but join in. A frenzy of emotions came rushing back to me at the sound of our combined laughter. I remembered how easy this was… how much he made me laugh… how good he was to me. I took another large sip of my Manhattan, the sweetness of the bourbon lingering on my tongue.

After that icebreaker, both the conversation and drinks flowed easily for the rest of the evening. The more we reminisced, the more I lost count of the number of drinks I’d had. We ended up at a karaoke bar in Midtown, where I surprised myself by jumping on stage to sing a medley of Britney hits as the crowd cheered and sang along. I handed the mic back to the MC once my time was up, and Garrett helped me down from the stage.

“Next up we have Garrett Lawson coming to the stage,” the MC announced, and I looked over at Garrett wide-eyed. We both knew he couldn’t carry a tune. He winked at me before he ran onto the stage.

“Looks like he’ll be singingIn the Air Tonightby Phil Collins,” the MC said. “A classic!”

I started choking with laughter as Garrett took the mic and began his off-key performance. The drinks had made him a little too confident as each “Oh Lord” began s ounding more like shrieking than singing. Booing started up from the crowd, and I motioned for him that it was time to wrap it up, but he continued on. The MC came up and tried to wrestle the microphone away from him, but he held it up out of his reach.

“Has anyone else ever noticed Phil Collins’ thumbs?” Garrett said, still holding the mic out of reach. “Anyone?”

That’s when I noticed security coming.

“Let’s go!” I called out to Garrett between fits of laughter. He downed the rest of his drink before tossing the mic over, and we ran out of the club.

“That was awful,” I told him as we stumbled onto the subway, drawing annoyed looks from everyone around us as we continued giggling like idiots.

“What do you mean?” he asked, leaning against the handrail. “The crowd was going wild!”

“I think they were looking for one of those long hooks to pull you off stage.”

“I beg your biggest pardon.” He put his hand on his chest. “The MC told me I was really going places.”

“I think he meant jail for holding his mic hostage,” I said, making Garrett throw his head back in laughter.

I leaned my head against the handrail, looking over at him. His bright blue eyes were shining with amusement as we gazed at one another. I couldn’t tell if what I was feeling was true happiness. I could barely remember what that felt like these days, but it seemed close.

After he insisted on walking me the rest of the way home—if you could call it walking, since it more closely resembled stumbling—I stood outside my doorway, suddenly overcome with exhaustion.

“Thanks for tonight, Garrett,” I said to him. “I’m glad we did this.”

And I meant it. Maybe we could pull off being friends after all. It was the most fun I’d had since…

He leaned against my doorway and nodded.

I began to sway as the jetlag and alcohol really started catching up to me, and I knew it was time to call it a night.

“Well, goodnight,” I said as I made my way inside.

Before I could shut the door, I heard Garrett say, “I lied to you, Hadley.”

I turned to look at him. “About?”

“I said I moved on,” he said with a serious look on his face. “But I haven’t. I still love you just as much as I did before you left… Maybe more.”

I looked into his pale blue eyes and saw nothing but adoration shining through them. My heart throbbed painfully at how much I missed that look, even if the color was all wrong.

The drinks clouded my mind as I started to wonder if I’d made a mistake writing Garrett off so quickly. I knew I’d never feel the same fierce, all-consuming type of love I’d had with Lex, but I deserved to at least try to find happiness, didn’t I? Hearing Garrett say he loved me felt like a lifeline was being thrown to me as I was drowning in grief.

I couldn’t make sense of what I was feeling. The rational part of my brain was fighting against the sad, messy part of my heart that just wanted to feel loved again. That part was telling me that maybe we hadn’t had enough time before… maybe if I just gave this another chance…

He took a step closer to me, and I froze. His hand reached out to cup my neck, and I watched in slow motion as his lips came closer to finally press against mine.

I knew at once that I’d made a huge mistake. I pulled back instantly, feeling my shoulders beginning to shake.Guilt started to rise up within me until I became sick with it. It felt like I’d been doused in cold water, and I sobered up quickly as the realization of what I’d done came crashing over me.

He stared at me for a long while. I couldn’t seem to find the words to say as my thoughts were spinning out of control.

Garrett finally broke the silence. “You’re not ready to let him go.”

I shook my head as the tears I’d been holding back slowly slid down the sides of my face.I was kicking myself for sinking so low. Garrett didn’t deserve this.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m such a piece of shit.” Never in my life had I felt so small.

“No, you’re not,” Garrett said softly. “I wish that you were… It would make it a hell of a lot easier to hate you.”

“I’d deserve it.”

Garrett exhaled a long breath through his nose.“Take care of yourself, Hadley,” he said before walking out of the door and out of my life.

◆◆◆

I headed straight to the studio in the West Village the next morning to meet with Logan. With the alcohol out of my system and sound judgement fully restored, I decided the rest of this trip would be all business. I buried what happened last night deep inside, not ready to perform the autopsy on what I let happen just yet.

“Glad you could finally make it,” Logan said as I walked through the door of Sonic Music Studio. He was sitting at the soundboard and continued adjusting the aux knobs before he finally looked my way.

“Hey, Ship,” I said.

He eyed me from head to toe. “You look tanner.”

“Thanks?”

“It wasn’t a compliment,” he replied. “You look like California threw up on you.”

I smiled. “It’s good to see you too, Ship.”

“Spare me the pleasantries, Olivier,” he said, and I laughed.

“With this kind of warm reception, it’s crazy I didn’t rush out here sooner,” I told him.

His face reluctantly broke out into a smile. “Fine. Have it your way.” He leaned back in his chair. “Tell me all about life out in Kaleifornia. Are you able to make Pilates classes in between sampling different avocado toasts and pursuing the perfect Instagram sunset? Let’s really get into it.”

I shook my head, smiling. “I’d rather not.”

“Great, me either.” He turned back to the soundboard.He made a few more adjustments before he pushed his chair back and said, “Come on, I want you to meet somebody.”

I followed him over to the sound booth, where I spotted a petite blonde girl taking off her headphones as we approached.

“Hadley, I’d like you to meet Fiona Lockwood.”

She came out of the booth beaming. She couldn’t have been older than eighteen, but she was dressed and made up to look about twenty-five. I was willing to bet my life that Fiona Lockwood wasn’t even her real name.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” she said nervously. “I’m such a huge fan. I can’t believe you’re working on this project with us.”

She seemed sweet, innocent even. I knew the industry would beat that out of her in no time.

I smiled back at her. “Ship told me a lot of great things about you. He said you’re destined to be one of the biggest stars there is. I couldn’t pass up an opportunity like that.”

He gave me a disparaging look, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. I guess that was a bit of an exaggeration. What he actually said was that he thought she really had something. But for Logan, that was basically saying she was a superstar in the making.

Her cheeks turned bright red as she looked over at Logan, smiling shyly. I was grateful the record company had paired her with him. He could be tough to work with, but he was one of the few producers in the city who wasn’t an absolute creep.

“What kind of song are you looking to compose?” I asked her.

“Well, I’ve released a few singles that had some moderate success on the charts. But the label is asking for something a bit edgier, something more dramatic, and Logan said you were the best.”

“He’s right,” I told her before I glanced over at him. “For once.”

He rolled his eyes. “Alright, enough chit-chat. Time is money.”

After that, we got right down to business. We worked all through the night and into the next morning, coming up with different mixes and samples of a really melancholy song about a couple who drifted apart, and the singer was left wondering if any of it was real. I wouldn’t look too deep into where that inspiration came from.

Fiona was an incredible singer and had a great ear for rhyme schemes. She came up with many of the lines herself, and by the end, I was just as convinced as Logan that she would be a star.

We laid down the track the following evening. Fiona and Logan thought it was perfect, but something was nagging me as I listened to it back. I couldn’t put my finger on why the song seemed so familiar. I kept racking my brain, trying to figure out if I’d heard it before or if I was copying someone else’s composition, which sometimes was easy to do when it came to songwriting, since we all used the same twelve notes and intervals.Logan suggested it might be the pitch she was using, so he made her go back and try it in a different key.

As I watched Fiona in the booth pouring her heart out into the song, it hit me like a ton of bricks as to why it seemed so familiar. I realized I’d inadvertently written the female perspective to“The Scientist.” In Coldplay’s version, we hear him trying to win her back after letting their relationship fall apart because of his work. In this version, we were hearing her side of the story—every heartache, every moment of doubt that they were ever going to make it.

I stand alone in the pouring rain

One last attempt to wash away the pain

Lost in thoughts I can’t explain

Searching for any reason to remain

I stand alone in a crowded room

Echoes of laughter fade into silent gloom

You thought it would be easy, just like our song

I thought it would be easy, now we’re both wrong

Help me rewind the time

Help me get back what’s mine

Help me rewrite our song

Before this feeling’s too far gone

You said you’re sorry, didn’t want the fight

Now every breath just feels too tight

I claw my way back to the start

Do you know how to mend a broken heart

I look down at all the shattered pieces

You pulled it apart, now tell me your thesis

Did you think it through to the end

Or did you believe it would always mend

Help me rewind the time

Help me get back what’s mine

Help me rewrite our song

Before this feeling’s too far gone

Caught in a world where truth often lies

Searching for answers in your whispered sighs

Tell me it’s not too late to try

I never wanted your silent goodbye

Nobody said it would be easy

To mend a heart that’s been torn apart

Nobody said it would be easy

To find a way back to the start

I felt my hands starting to shake. I needed to step away before I went to pieces right there in the control room.

I hurried to excuse myself and ran outside for a breath of fresh air before I fell apart completely. It was a typical New York evening in the dead of winter—bitterly cold, but I welcomed the sharp bite of the freezing air on my skin. Its icy touch helped soothe my frayed nerves.Even when I was trying to escape thinking about Lex, it was no use. Here he was, popping back up in the music I was writing. The floor of my room back home was littered with attempts I’d made at writing in these last few months. I just couldn’t do it. I was completely devoid of the emotions needed to compose music, so I eventually gave up tryin g. And just like us, the songs were all left unfinished.

When I finally regained my composure, I went back inside, and they had finished the song. Logan played it back for me, and I knew in my gut that it was a hit.The song felt like a breakthrough for me, both personally and professionally. I’d broken free from my musical catatonia and managed to create something exceptional. I wanted nothing more than to do it again and again.

“You know, we could make this a permanent gig between the two of us, Olivier,” Logan said to me once we’d wrapped and were heading out for dinner. “The record label is always asking how we can keep you in the studio. They’re really going to flip when they hear this. It’s some of your best work ever. And it only took you two days to write... Unbelievable.”

I scrunched my nose at him. “I’m uncomfortable with you giving me compliments.”

“I have ulterior motives, if that makes you feel better,” he said, smirking. “All jokes aside, they told me to offer you whatever you wanted.”

What I wanted, they couldn’t give me.

“Think about it, Olivier,” he continued. “You could be a full-time composer making millions instead of whatever the hell you’re doing out in Crunchy Valley.”

I chuckled. “Alright Ship, I’ll think about it.”

I was trying to placate him, but the thought crossed my mind that maybe I should actually consider it. This weekend had been amazing. Having the opportunity to be collaborative and make something this special had been incredibly fulfilling. It gave me a rush like I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Despite how the weekend started, being in New York allowed me to feel something other than complete misery for the first time in months, and I didn’t want to let it go. It was like the vibrant chaos of the city was breathing life back into me. It might be time to consider returning to my roots, because even with my mom there, California barely felt like home any longer.

Home was over five-thousand miles away on another continent, blatantly ignoring me.