I couldn't deny it. By dressing like this, I was trying to be someone I wasn't. I'd never been that strong, take-no-shit kind of person. That had never been me.
"Listen," he said. "I get it."
I looked back up, meeting the man's gaze.
"The whole, I'm-a-bad-ass, don't-mess-with-me, thing?" His green eyes burned into me. "I get where you're coming from. But this?" He waved his hand, gesturing to my hair and boots. "This isn't the way to do it."
"Then how do I?" I hated how plaintive I sounded, how weak and uncertain.
He pinned me down with a stare. "When do you feel the most powerful?"
I paused, taken aback. "I… don't know."
"Think about it," he urged. "What makes you feel like you can do anything? Like you can take on the world?"
"I suppose…" I hesitated, but powered on. "When I sing."
His eyes lit up. "Yeah? You sing?"
I nodded.
"That's the key, then," he said. "Always be singing."
I let out a derisive laugh. "I can't go around singing all the time. Life isn't a musical."
"Not out loud." He tapped one finger against my chest. "In here."
My heart went into overdrive, beating madly against my ribcage. My ears turned hot. My lungs squeezed.
I hadn't felt anything like this since the last time Harper had…
"Think you can do that, Cherry Lips?" he asked with a grin.
I nodded dumbly, silently. He winked and sauntered off, ducking between the tents. I stared at the space where he disappeared. I fought to calm my rapid breathing.
My cell phone buzzed — a text from Gael, written in all caps, asking where I was and telling me the concert was starting.
I followed the mysterious green-eyed stranger's path through the tents, but I didn't see him on the other side. Disappointed but not surprised, I wandered back to my brother, elbowing my way through the crowd. The audience was reaching a fever pitch. Whoever this band was, they must have had a lot of local fans.
I poked Gael in the shoulder when I finally pushed my way to him. He nodded at me and jerked his chin to the side.
"The band's name isForever Night," he shouted over the crowd.
My mind was elsewhere, still thinking about what that guy had said.
Always be singing.
Moments later, the screech of guitars hit my ears and the thumping of drums and bass thrummed in my chest. The first few bars of the song were catchy, but not enough to take my attention away from my thoughts.
A man began to sing.
I recognized the voice.
I turned my face toward the stage.
The stranger from before held a microphone in one hand, a guitar slung around his shoulders.
His voice was smooth and crooning at first, then turned deep and growling, switching off between soft and aggressive in turns.
