48. Evelyn
48
Evelyn
“ Y ou’re sure about this?” Garrett asks.
“It’s a little too late to change my mind,” I say as I glance to my left.
The high school’s band concludes its rendition of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” and applause erupts from in front of the gazebo. The festival is contained within the limits of the town square. Shops have adopted more formal displays compared to what they had set up at the practice event over a week ago. Hand-painted menus and tablecloths in reds and pinks have been added. Closer to the gazebo are activities that can be accessed using tickets, including my abandoned face painting post.
“I think you have a good ten seconds,” Garrett notes over the clamor.
“And if I say yes, are you going to run onto that stage and stop Pat?” I challenge.
“If that’s what you want,” he says, then pulls me to him. His hand lands splayed on my lower back before he continues in a husky tone. “I will calmly walk on to the stage and tell her you’ve changed your mind.”
“See, this is why I keep you around.” I press against him and pull his face to mine in a kiss.
When I let go, I find him smiling down at me. “I’ll add conflict management next to novelty shirts on the list of things that turn you on.”
Pat walks to the front as students start to pack up their instruments, music stands and chairs. “Thank you to Mr. Cohen and the students of Hartsfall High School for their performance.” Pat continues on providing a brief history of the town and the festival.
“I’m still disappointed you aren’t wearing the infamous wig.” I reach up and brush a strand of his hair.
“If I get to perform next to you, I want to do it as I am with no synthetic hair.”
“A shame. A damn shame that you are depriving me of my deepest desires.”
Microphone feedback cuts through the moment as Pat continues, “Our live entertainment will continue with a special performance. For the last twenty years, Alina Nicolescu has graced us with her voice, and we want to thank her for it. In a last-minute program change we have asked another musical talent to step in. Please welcome Garrett Larson and, for the first time ever, Lyla West.”
A breath catches in my throat. It’s happening—it’s really happening. It hits me far harder than it did when I called Vincent yesterday to move forward with the Reverb contracts and propose this reveal. He had less than twenty-four hours to get the go ahead from Reverb and set up all the necessary PR measures. There’s no more planning. No more running.
I’m Lyla West, and it’s time the world found out.
Whispers rise from the crowd with a frenzied energy, but the hushed words are impossible to pick out.
“Okay, let's go.” I wipe my sweaty palms against my jeans and take a step forward.
Before I get any further, Garrett reaches out and spins me back to him. “One more thing.”
His hands land on my hips and I instinctively wrap my arms around his neck. The kiss is quick, but it still manages to settle some of the nerves caught in my gut.
This wasn’t the easy answer. If I wanted to, I could draw my anonymity out for a few more months until the album was officially released and Reverb could strategically use the reveal as a publicity stunt to boost sales overnight. I don’t want to wait.
I want it all out in the open before I can shy away from one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. After tonight, Garrett and I will go back to Nashville together to visit my parents and go through the explanations in person. I considered telling them before the performance, but I don’t want them to talk me out of this.
The first thing I notice when I step on the stage is a sign being held up by three friendly faces. “Lyla West’s biggest fans.” Avery, Oliver, and Quinn are all beaming, which causes my heart to melt. Scanning the crowd, I spot more people I know and love.
They’re here. My composure waivers as my knees go weak.
I turn away from the microphone to where Garrett is settling his cello between his thighs. “How is my family here?” I whisper.
There they are, mixed into the gathering crowd. Mom, Dad, Drew, and his girlfriend, Lacey. Pride shines from their expressions and the last of the knots in my stomach loosen.
“You only get to do this once. You deserve to have everyone you love cheering for you.”
“How?” I ask in awe of the man I love.
This man who helped me gently find the courage to be on this stage. But that wasn’t enough. He knew how important it was and made sure I could share it with the people I care about most in the world. There are a thousand ways to say I love you, and he’s teaching me a new one every day.
He presses a kiss to my cheek. “I told them it would be important to you and that’s all they needed to hear. You’re a very easy person to show up for.”
The back of my nose prickles with the threat of tears. I take a deep breath and readjust my feet to ground myself. There will be time to get choked up later. Right now, I’m going to give back to a town that I have completely fallen for.
I give Garrett a nod and he lowers his bow to play the first strains of “Funny Valentine.” The energy around us swells in anticipation and when I join in I know I’m exactly where I need to be.
Once the song is over the cheers wash over us. The crowd is at full attention, cameras flashing to capture every second.
“We love you, Lyla!”
“I can’t believe you’re here!”
“It’s really her. Oh my God. It’s really her!”
It’s a wave that crashes into me, and I can’t contain the impossibly wide smile that stretches across my mouth. This is what I’ve been choosing to go without, feeling connected to so many people with something simultaneously so grand and simple as a song. I’m a part of this.
It’s immeasurably better than seeing people dance to my music. Here, we’re sharing this moment, one that I might be able to repeat, yet it can never be truly replicated. Love blooms from between my ribs. This is what I’ve been missing out on. These people. This feeling of being swept up in a collective experience that’s only possible because of them. I’m already addicted to the high, and I won’t be coming down any time soon.
“Hello, everyone, thank you for coming to Hartsfall’s 52nd Love Letter Festival.” My first few words come out as shaky as I feel. Singing old favorites is one thing, but what is coming next feels like handing over my heart. It’s scary, but it’s supposed to be, because I care. “I’ve been so lucky to spend my time here writing and becoming inspired. You never stop falling in Hartsfall. We have a few more surprises for you tonight. I have an album in the works, and it would be a shame to not share one of my favorite songs. So here is ‘Stop Falling’. I hope you enjoy it.”
There’s a swell of commotion, cheers and whistles cut through the air. Behind me Garrett moves from his cello to take over at the piano.
Darling, hold my hand on the knife’s edge.
Dance with me until we fall.
Spin me around again.
I won’t break apart. I won’t feel the fear,
As long as I’m the one you hold dear
Come with me over the edge.
Invite the rush of the wind and hope it never ends
Because I never want to stop falling, falling with you.
At the end of the performance my friends and family are waiting at the edge of the gazebo to be the first to talk to me. Avery’s security personnel, a burly man and a stocky woman both wearing casual clothing but are identifiable from their wide stances, are likely the reason there’s a good distance between us and the rest of the crowd.
My eyes sting and I stop holding onto the tears, good tears from my emotions overflowing and needing to find a way to leak out. Everyone waits their turn for hugs.
“Are you mad?” I whisper into my brother’s ear as he wraps his arms around me.
“Only that you have more Grammys than I do.”
“I’m just getting started,” I promise.
“Good.”
“If you’re ever ready, I want to write a song with you.” I brace myself as the words fall from my lips.
“The moment I am you’ll be my first call,” he agrees, and I’m hit with that same aching relief. We’ll get there, back to the place where we can talk through the songs we share. It might not be soon, but eventually is all I need.
I step away and look at Avery. I can tell she’s doing her best to not to say “ I told you so ,” but it’s right there in the curve of her smirk. If she did say it, she’d be right. The hug she gives me is absolutely bone crunching and an “oof” escapes my lips before I return the hug.
“I wouldn’t have any of this without you, you know?”
“I do, but you wouldn’t have any of this without you either. I just struck the match. You took it and lit the fuse,” she says.
“I’m ready to set the world on fire,” I promise, and she squeezes me tighter.
“You know this means you could open for us on tour at a show or two.”
“I would like that,” I say. I know it will take more than a simple yes to make it work. After today there will be a lot to juggle, but I’ll make the effort for her. Without her generous shove toward my passions five years ago I wouldn’t be here. I glance over to Garrett. This is the life that brought me into his orbit.
The air goes stiff as I turn to my parents. The last time we talked it wasn’t great. I said what I needed to but there’s so much more we need to discuss.
“Later,” Mom says, as if reading my mind. “Tonight is for celebrating. Tomorrow is for fixing things.”
“Thank you.” Tonight is the start of so many things and the end of others. My relationship with my parents has been frozen in time, locking me in their minds as sixteen for fourteen years. Time is finally starting back up and we’ll need to decide what that looks like together.
I shake my head as I turn to the final pair.
“I thought you both were desperate to get out of here. I ask you to stay and you say no. Garrett asks, and you come right back? Should I be worried I’m getting replaced?” I muse.
“Funny thing happened. We got off the plane, got this text explaining things and we had no choice but to come right back. Your friend only ever has one performance where she outs her real identity to the world,” Oliver explains.
“That and the blueberry wine,” Quinn adds wryly, holding up a plastic cup. “I came back for the blueberry wine.”
“How many flights have you taken for me at this point?”
Quinn makes a show of counting on her fingers. “By the time we go back it will be four.”
“Don’t worry, when you start touring you can just get us the most expensive tickets for free,” Oliver says, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“They’re yours. Your sisters are welcome too, Ollie, just say the word,” I promise.
Every show. Every moment. Every triumph and pitfall. If they want to be there, I will invite them in.
I have wasted so much time dwelling on the worst-case scenarios in the back of my mind that I never let myself consider how good it would be if it all worked out. And it feels like this.
It feels like knowing this is just the beginning of so many moments that will string together for us to look back on and find them shining like Christmas lights.
The moment breaks as a crowd starts to form, I hear both my name and cheers calling for Lyla growing louder. I turn to find Fletcher and Pat attempting to hold the people at bay as they attempt to shove forward.
I reach out and take Garretts’s hand then say, “Don’t let go,” before I take off running. He runs with me for a few feet before tugging me to a halt and lifting me in his arms. Then he carries me away from the crowd and all the rest of the way to the rental house.