“You don’t like them?”
“I think they are just fine if you were a new artist who truly wrote as a seventeen-year-old normally does.”
Ru frowned and glared down at the music. He’d been so proud to finally write something. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve had months of nothing. And I worked so hard on these.”
“How about a collaboration? We could find some fellow songwriters for you to work with. Or find songs you feel will fit you.”
“You mean let someone else write my songs.”
Herb nodded. “If you feel like you’re truly blocked and that this is the best you can do.” He waved to the music in front of them. “They aren’t hit material. And I think you want this first solo album to be big.”
Ru looked away, trying to keep the feeling of rejection from overwhelming him. How odd was that? He’d spent years on top, effortlessly, really. What had changed? Why couldn’t he connect anymore? Did he really need the other guys of Vocal Growth to be a musician?
“I want you to spend some time in the studio today. Play these songs with the studio musicians. Maybe you’ll discover a way to make them better, or perhaps you’ll just find that they aren’t quite what you wanted to say. Have you been practicing much?”
“Not really.” He’d never really had to. Sure, he played his guitar a lot but never had to worry about singing. He’d spent most of his time with Vocal Growth trying to learn the dance moves.
“The voice, and songwriting for that matter, are instruments that need to be played regularly to stay in tune. So I want you to create a schedule. Practice every day, whether it’s just to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ and write a song about spiders. For every ten songs you write, you might have something worth working with. You need to use your gifts to keep them alive.” Herb got up from the table. He paused long enough to pat Ru on the shoulder. “Don’t let this break you, Ru. I’ve watched you grow up in this industry. You have what it takes to become the next legend. I want you to be one of those guys who have fifty years of music topping the charts. You just have to believe in yourself first. Do you believe in yourself right now?”
No. And that wasn’t an easy answer.
Ru sucked in a deep breath. “Thanks. Okay. Sorry. Thanks.” He didn’t know what else to say. It hurt to breathe. He wanted to tear up the sheet music as Herb left the room. He fought tears as he grabbed the songs up from the table and made his way into the studio. He wished Tommy was there to help him with the music, or Adam just to smile at him with encouragement. Ru just felt so alone.
When dinnertime rolled around and Ru found himself in the car on the way to his favorite restaurant, he really began to miss Adam. Tommy had to make peace with AJ, and other than a handful of hangers-on, Ru didn’t have much for friends since the picture of him and Kris had been made public. The day had been long and painful. Herb had been right. The songs weren’t great. Maybe if he worked on them more, but Ru had that sense of finality that meant the songs were done.
He made his way to a table near the back, where no one would bother him, and brought only his cell and a pad of blank sheet music. He wasn’t really hungry, but knew he had to eat, so he ordered a half- dozen entrees to sample and begged the staff to just keep photographers and any other attention seekers away. He had a text waiting for him from Adam. It said,Running late tonight. Miss u.
Ru smiled. He could almost see Adam running, his muscles moving like a finely tuned machine. They were so different: Adam into sports and Ru into music. But he couldn’t help but hope they would find enough common ground to keep them together for a while. Odd how short a time he’d known the young man, but how much he longed to spend more time with him.
He turned his songbook to a fresh page and began to jot down the lyrics that had been whispering though his head since the moment he met Adam Corbin. A song about beginnings and hopes for something more. It would be a ballad, Ru decided. Maybe even his first single. The words and the music began to pour from him like few songs had before. Maybe Adam would let him sing it for him and not run away screaming from the intensity of the words.
