Chapter 50 Aria #2
“I understand.” Aria chews her lip as she fumbles for the right words to say next.
She wants to ask what he’s referring to when he says “mess anything up.” Does he mean the actual relationship between them—what they agreed to keep a friendship?
Or was he talking about their fake friendship partnership deal? “Do you—”
“Griffin, hey, sorry to interrupt.” A dazzling young woman with dark brown hair and olive skin grazes his upper arm with her freshly polished nails. “It’s time to start the presentation. We don’t want to miss out on anyone if they’re making it a quick stop.”
Griffin glances over apologetically. “Sorry, Aria, can we catch up later on? I meant it when I said it was great to see you.”
The assistant gasps. “Aria Wilder? Griffin, you’re holding out on us! I’m a mega fan!” She squeaks in a manner that makes her endearing.
Aria smiles. “I see an invite from my Griffin, and I do my very best to make it.”
The assistant begins to physically ferry Griffin away but calls over her shoulder, “You don’t have to tell me twice! I foresee many a Griffin Hayes Foundation event on your calendar.”
They disappear into the crowd, then up a set of stairs to the roped-off second level that acts as a balcony. Up there a microphone is set up, and the assistant stops Griffin before he takes it, probably coaching him on his talking points.
A small fire flickers in the very depth of Aria’s belly.
She’s tried to talk to Griffin multiple times at this point, to tell him how she feels, and every time his injury or, now, his foundation work gets in the way.
Since when was she a person who lets life get in the way?
Since when was she willing to take no for an answer?
The assistant calls the crowd to attention, and Aria sees the opportunity.
It’s now or never.
Aria hops onto the low stage at her side, the one vacated by the band and turns on the microphone. A horrendous feedback echoes around the hard surfaces of the concrete and chrome brewery, and like a choreographed dance, hands cover ears, and groans escape the crowd.
Oops.
Aria pulls in a breath, sidestepping the impulse to be deterred, and taps on her mic. When a muffled thud sounds back, she speaks into it.
“Hi, everyone!”
The crowd turns to her, and up on the second level, Griffin and his assistant wear quizzical looks. He runs a hand through his hair.
“Some of you may already know me. My name is Aria Wilder, and I’m a friend and fan of Griffin Hayes. I’m here today to support his brand-new foundation that we’re all so excited about. In addition to writing a check before I leave today, I came with a new song.”
Excited murmurs slink around the clusters of guests, the offensive microphone feedback forgotten.
“I performed this song for the first time recently here at the music festival in Roxbury Park, and a few videos made it to the internet. Something I know a little about.”
The crowd laughs.
“I haven’t spoken publicly about this song yet because it’s the most personal thing I have ever written.
It might not be that surprising to hear, but growing up inside the music business means that for a long time, other people are deciding your career—the persona you go onstage with, the type of music you make, even the clothes you wear.
For a long time I have been wanting to try something new with my music, but only once I got to know Griffin Hayes did I finally gain the courage to do so. ”
The crowd is quiet, and Aria looks up to the second level where Griffin leans over the railing.
“This song is for you, Griffin Hayes.”
By the grace of God, an acoustic guitar has been left behind by one of the band members on break, so she won’t have to sing a cappella. Aria takes the guitar, then dives right into the song.
“Until you came along,
I was living in slow motion.
Playing pop star like they wanted,
For them and their devotion.
But in the dark of night,
I tossed and turned, all wrong.
It started to make sense,
Only as you came along.
In trying to be perfect,
All I did was make me small.
You told me, more than once,
Go ahead and give your all.
Things started to go right,
Me letting go and staying true.
But then you left me in the dark,
And now I know something new.
It wasn’t just the music,
Not the hope you sparked in me.
It was everything about you,
I’m like a lock, and you the key.
You’re a flame lit inside me,
And I ask you please come home.
Everything is brighter by your side,
Together, not alone.
I don’t care about the music,
Or about the final score.
All I know is that without you,
I will always be wanting more.”
Once the crowd finishes their cheers, more than one member pulling an endeared hand to a chest or dabbing at the corner of an eye, Aria speaks into the mic.
“And now that I’ve as good as confessed the depths of my adoration for Griffin Hayes, I’d like to welcome him to the floor to tell us about The Griffin Hayes Foundation for Youth Sports.
And don’t forget—don’t leave without making a donation. ”
Aria’s heart hammers in her chest, and she feels so exposed she might as well be nude. Nevertheless, she watches as Griffin takes the microphone up on the second level. Even from this distance, she detects a pinkness in his cheeks.
He stumbles over his opening words, then resets. “What can I say? I’m a little stunned—in the best sort of way—from that Aria Wilder original, so bear with me if I miss something.”
Griffin is adorable as he explains the impetus for his foundation, his injury and personal journey—one that’s still underway—and eventually finds his footing as he talks about his vision for what the organization will bring to youth athletes across the country.
Bailey snakes through the crowd to Aria’s side, and as Griffin is wrapping up his final comments, she whispers in Aria’s ear, “There’s no way he’s not in love with you, sis. It’s obvious in the look on his face.”
Aria reaches out and squeezes her hand.
She certainly hopes that’s true, but for now she’s forced to wait to hear it straight from him.