She huffs a laugh. “You’ll be competing with FANTASIE.” She tilts her ear toward the resort, which vaguely leaks the words to track number two, “Man in the Moonlight.”
“Good point,” I tell her with mock seriousness. “Better let them handle the music for now.”
“Do you like it?” she asks. “The new album, I mean.”
“Oh yeah, it’s fantastic.”
Not something I would have listened to without prompting, but I was encouraged to check out some of FANTASIE’s discography beforehand and I really enjoyed the experimental tone of it all.
“Some of their best work,” Harmony says. “Honestly, I’m a little envious.”
“Envious? Why? You’re killing it lately. I mean, you’ve been killing it from day one, but … from what I’ve heard so far,If You Know, You Knowis absolutely stellar.”
She glimpses me sidelong. “Really?”
“Well, you don’t need me to tell you. Those key changes in ‘Bittersweet’? Chills.” I shiver, partially for show and partially because my nerves still haven’t fully calmed.
“You don’t mean that.” A glint in her eyes says she hopes I do, though. At least, I think I’m reading that right. She’s usually so confident when she presents herself in public; it’s strange to see her needing reassurance. But of course I’m not a great example of being the same in private as I am in public either.
“I do,” I assure her. “You have a way of writing that captivates people. Not just the melodies but the words. Like, ’I can't say it, you're my air, but even when you stay it’s like you’re not really there.’ Simple phrases but they’ve got that internal rhyming that makes them punchy. Or ‘The earth is silent and gray, the edge ofyour seat begins to fray, and you wait, you overcompensate, you try to defy gravity but it's too late.’”
Now she full-on smiles. “You like that one?”
“I’d be lying if I said I could remember the name of it—I only remember it was onThe Harmony Project—but yes. That one especially stuck out to me.”
Part of me wonders if she knows any of my songs, but then I think about my biggest hits and I realize I’d prefer she never heard of them. If I’m lucky, maybe she hasn’t. Anything that’s really “me” didn’t make it onto my albums. The few that I’m somewhat proud of got mixed in ways I didn’t care for. The rest are based on prompts my label gave me. “Grind My Gears” was literally a joke—me writing the most country thing I could think of, in a mocking way—but they loved it and ran with it.
“I really … appreciate that,” Harmony says. “That song means a lot to me.”
“Yeah?”
She nods, then turns to observe the trickle of the waterfall, fiddling with the hem of her cape.
“Who was that one for?” I ask. “If I can ask.”
With a melancholy expression, she says, “Me.”
Once again, not what I would have expected. I guess she’s not always “writing for revenge” like one of my co-workers atThe Goldrush Gazetteused to say.
“Don’t look so surprised,” she adds. “I’m aware of my reputation.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m surprised,” I clarify. “I’ve met enough famous people to know there’s usually a lot more going on behind the scenes than what the media says.”
Hell, I’ve experienced it myself—but I keep quiet about that because it feels wrong to try to act like I have some idea what she’s going through when I don’t get nearly as much as attention (or criticism) as she does.
“That’s for sure.”
Not really knowing what to say to that, and realizing she originally came out here to be alone (which I am ruining) I open my mouth to excuse myself and leave her to it—also making a slight move to go—but she then covers her eyes in shame and says, “Oh my God … you were here first. I just completely took over.”
She stands.
“No, no, it’s fine,” I say. “It’s a big place. There are plenty of other spots for me. Although I should probably be getting back inside anyway.”
“Overbearing manager?” she asks with a smirk.
I laugh at the way she’s echoed me, then volley back, “For starters.”
Harmony draws her cape around her shoulders. “Well ... if you change your mind and want to delay the inevitable a bit longer, I actually don’t mind talking to you. I don’t want to be around everyone, but being alone with my thoughts is … a lot right now.”
