Chapter 30. Haley
Haley
Good morning, Chicago. This is Hidden Tracks on WJPK, coming to you from Havencrest University.
I’m Haley Chapman, and I’m back after a week that turned my life upside down.
Today’s show is about songs that speak to the silence after the storm, when the echoes of what could have been are almost deafening.
We’re exploring music that gives voice to those moments when words fail us and we are struggling under the weight of everything left unsaid.
Whether you’re hurting or you’re healing, you are not alone.
Our playlist is for anyone who’s ever found themselves at a crossroads, afraid to move forward, but unable to go back.
Usually, I like to highlight lesser-known artists, but today we’re kicking off with an artist who truly understands the power of silence.
Stay with us, and remember—even in the darkest moments, music has the power to tell the story of our hearts. Here’s Coldplay with “The Scientist.”
Three notes into the song, I knew I’d made a mistake. The lyrics resonated too deeply with the emotions I’d been trying to hold back. No one could get into my heart like Coldplay.
Breathe. Breathe. You’re fine. Lock it away.
But I wasn’t fine. I hadn’t really been okay since my father died.
I took off my headphones to block out the music and tried to ground myself in the familiarity of the studio—the tile floor, the glass window, the mic and the soundboard.
I glanced at the door, half expecting to see Ace standing outside, but the hallway was empty.
I’d gotten so used to having him around, I had to keep reminding myself that he was gone.
Unlike with Matt and my dad, I couldn’t contain the memories in my mental black box.
Ace was everywhere. In the studio. Sitting at the kitchen table.
Standing at the back of my class. In my bed. And in my heart.
Maybe it was just too soon. Or maybe that black box inside me was finally full.
I managed to get through the show, focusing on some new bands I’d discovered. Still unsettled by the threats I’d received over the station email, I didn’t take any call-ins or requests, and by the time the show was done, I was totally drained.
Dante called me into his office as I made my way out of the studio. His new gig had been delayed because of technical issues, and he was back in town. “Good show. I was surprised you made it in.”
“I was going crazy at home. I’m not a rest-and-relax kind of person.”
“No one would blame you after what happened,” he said.
“Skye filled me in on all the details, and her thoughts about the details, and what I should think about the details, and then she allowed me a few hours’ sleep before she wanted to discuss it all over again.
I’d be pretty coldhearted not to give you a break. ”
“It was nice to be back,” I said. “I missed being here.”
“How’s the wrist?”
“Healing quickly. Almost done with the splint. It was just a sprain so I don’t have a cast for you to sign. It’s a shame because in twenty years, your signature might buy me a house.”
Dante laughed. “Maybe you’ll be buying your own house. Skye told me about the record executive you met at Bin 46.”
“I don’t think that’s going to work out,” I said. “He thinks I’m full of repressed emotion, and I need to let it out to become a truly good singer.”
“How about testing out that theory?” Dante leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head.
“A buddy of mine is looking for a last-minute band this weekend and he asked about Dante’s Inferno.
I wouldn’t mind doing one last gig before I have to leave again.
Are you interested? We need a singer, but I totally understand if you—”
“Are you kidding me?” I interjected, feeling lighter in that moment than I had been since Ace left. “I’m in. I haven’t had a gig in what feels like forever. It’s too cold to go back to busking, and I can’t do any open mics until my arm is healed enough to play my guitar. It would be perfect.”
“I’ll check with the others and send you the set list if I get the green light.” His lips quivered at the corners. “Coldplay was a bold choice for your show. Was it for Ace?”
“He doesn’t really listen to music,” I said. “Even if it was for him, I doubt he’d be listening, and if he was, he wouldn’t understand.”
“I’ve only met him briefly, but I think he understands you pretty well.”
I wasn’t so sure. He’d left me. Just like my dad and my brother. Just like my mom. Just like he did before. If he truly understood me, he wouldn’t have done the one thing he knew would hurt me the most.
Skye wasn’t happy to see me when I showed up for my shift at Buttercup. She glared at me and told me I was supposed to be home resting, and what was I thinking coming to work with a broken arm.
“I couldn’t sit around the house anymore,” I told her. “I can’t write music. I can’t take notes. I can’t type. I just sit there and scroll through social media until my brain goes numb.”
“Why don’t you review your psych course material, analyze yourself, and tell yourself what to do.” She poured me a double espresso and added a thin layer of foam.
“I’m not the best person to give myself advice. I can’t be objective. I’m too close.”
“Isn’t that why Ace left?” she asked gently, handing me the cup. “He thought he was too close?”
I sipped the hot liquid, letting the foam smooth out the bitterness. “Now who’s playing amateur psychologist?”
“Not me, who thinks you should go to the student counseling center and speak to an actual professional. You were kidnapped and beaten up. You can’t brush it under the carpet.”
“I’m an expert at brushing traumatic events under the carpet,” I assured her. “I don’t need a counselor to help me with a problem I’ve already solved. I’m perfectly fine.”
She gave me a look that suggested she didn’t think I was fine at all. “Dante just messaged me to let me know you were there to do your show and you weren’t yourself. He said you opened with ‘The Scientist.’”
“Could you two be any cuter?” I tried to divert the conversation with a shift in focus. “How about you don’t tell each other everything? Maybe a girl needs her privacy.”
“You were on the air,” Skye pointed out. “How private is it when you tell hundreds of thousands of people what you’re feeling in words only people like us understand?”
“I should have played something upbeat and cheerful, because that’s me,” I lied. “I’m the most upbeat, cheerful, happy person on campus.”
“Sometimes the music just happens.” Skye knew more about music than anyone I knew. She had hundreds of playlists and could rattle off songs for any kind of vibe. I loved music, too, but I was more interested in creating it than knowing every song that ever existed.
“My music isn’t happening,” I admitted. “I tried to write some songs in my head, and all I got was a headache.”
A shadow darkened the counter. My pulse kicked up a notch before I recognized Ben’s smiling face. Maybe I hadn’t finished processing what had happened. I mentally searched for the black box and shoved any lingering fears deep inside.
“I just came by to see if you were okay,” he said. “Skye said you’d been in an accident…” He trailed off, his eyes widening as he took in my healing cuts, fading bruises, and the splint on my arm. “I didn’t realize it was so bad. Are you okay?”
“All good. Thanks for checking up on me.” I turned to Skye, muttering under my breath, “Do you tell everyone everything?”
“Only the people who might be interested.” She gave me a nudge and dropped her voice low. “Ace is gone. I thought you might need some cheering up.”
“You don’t look okay,” Ben said. “Your whole face is bruised.”
I’d tried to hide the bruises with makeup. Clearly, I’d done a poor job. “I was running and not paying attention and collided with someone. It’s no big deal.”
Ben wasn’t convinced by my lie. “Did someone hurt you?” He looked over his shoulder at the empty chair where Ace used to sit. “Was it your boyfriend? Is that why he’s gone?”
“No, it wasn’t him. It was just an accident.”
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked. “Do you want to go for a drink? Or a walk? Can I carry your stuff to class?”
Nice Ben. Sweet Ben. He was good-looking, athletic, kind, and a perfectly decent guy.
There was no reason why I shouldn’t take him up on his offer.
No reason why I shouldn’t go out with him or even hook up.
Except I wanted Ace. Even after he’d kissed me and left me, and kissed me and left me again.
I wanted to be forced out of bed on cold mornings to walk to class instead of taking the bus listening to his irritatingly cheerful lecture about the health benefits of an early-morning stroll.
I wanted his grumpy frown when I wasn’t following his rules.
I wanted to hear him curse under his breath when Aditi overcooked the pasta. I wanted to fall asleep in his arms.
I gave Ben an apologetic smile. “I missed a few classes so I’m going home after this to catch up. Maybe another time.”
I gave Ben a free coffee and a lemon square and forced myself to finish the shift even though I felt so exhausted it was an effort to breathe.
“You are very clearly not okay.” Skye helped me put on my jacket and briefed our replacements about what had to be done.
“I miss Ace,” I admitted. “I can’t stop thinking about him. He was hurting so much, and I didn’t do anything to help.”
“You weren’t really in a position to do anything with your body all beaten up,” she said. “And now you have some emotional healing to do. Also, I haven’t forgiven him for the way he left you, so don’t even think about inviting him back to Chicago, because the moment I see him, he’s going down.”
Laughter bubbled up in my throat for the first time since I’d left the hospital. “Paige said something similar. He’s probably afraid to come back because of what you guys will do to him.”