Calum had joked about it often enough, told me if it was what I wanted, he’d pull me on stage in a heartbeat. He had no clue how bad I thirsted for the spotlight, just one taste of it. He had no idea I’d spent the last year writing an album of my own, or that I wanted to try my hand at getting a recording deal. That thanks to my good friend, Lara, my confidence on stage was growing, and now it didn’t seem like a far-off dream.
But…I couldn’t risk it yet. Couldn’t risk the hurt it would cause our father.
I still remembered the night I told Dad I wanted to get my Bachelor of Music. It was the same program my brother had applied for and got into at Acadia, the one he’d abandoned for the tour. I’d applied there as well, and at Dalhousie. He’d stared at me as if seeing a ghost.
Dad had asked me in his serious and somber way what I planned on doing with the degree. His eyes were hurt and angry, until I sputtered out I wanted to be a teacher and work with kids who had disabilities, helping them use music as a form of therapy.
He’d softened then, as it wasn’t that different than what my nan and Mom had both done, teaching lessons to local kids. It was a little more involved, with more job security as I’d be able to work in schools. Dad was happy with this plan, and for a while…I was too.
This was a job I could easily see myself doing and enjoying, but my heart kept wishing for more. Longing for it, telling me I didn’t have to give up before trying. That I too could find some kind of success there on stage and teach music therapy later on.
The further I got into my studies, the more my feet itched to run down that different career path. The call to perform got louder and louder each day that passed. Each karaoke night Lara dragged me to only made me feel like it was possible.
My father had no idea I wanted to essentially follow in Calum’s footsteps, making my own music and releasing myownalbum, and maybe even going on tour for it. Be in the spotlight, in the public eye—for my music. I was scared when he found out, it would hurt him deeply and change how he felt about me.
One of us had already broken our father’s heart by taking off to follow the limelight, and seeing their strained relationship had me folding up my owndreams of the stage for something more practical. After all, it was expected of me: I didn’t cause the problems; I kept the peace.
But I yearned for it so badly. I wanted my lyrics to move people, to make them feel.
Would he think I was vapid and selfish, like he thought of my brother?
I didn’t know, and I wasn’t in a rush to find out. Confrontation wasn’t my forte; I didn’t like purposely upsetting people.
In fact, that was how my boyfriend, Jason, ended up coming with me on this trip in the first place. Normally, Lara was my plus one but she was busy filming this weekend. I’d hesitated on inviting him, having had a suspicion that bringing Jason in her stead was a bad idea.
I’d met Jason in Introduction to Music and Sound Technology class. He was the student assistant and had big plans of producing music. He couldn’t sing, not really, but he could mix. For almost that entire semester, he paid very little attention to me.
But one night, during our weekly karaoke night at a college bar, Jason happened to be there with his friends, and he watched me on stage. He’d recognized me by my hair—a reddish hue that stood out in our class of three hundred—but hadn’t realized I had that much talent with singing. He’d thought my only talent was the piano.
After that, he always seemed to have his eyes on me in class. He was attractive—dark hair, dark eyes, a chiseled jaw. He reminded me of a less polished Chuck Bass. He kept asking me out, and I kept brushing him off at first.
I hadn’t really been looking for a boyfriend, but Jason’s interest in me was tangible. He’d been persistently charming until I’d finally given in and said yes to a date.
He took me to a pub called the Coach Tavern. Considered the Celtic heart of Halifax, the pub offered live music seven nights a week with no cover charge. He told me he knew the owners, and he’d be happy to talk to them about getting me on stage if I would consider working on a song or two with him.
I wasn’t so sure myself, but like I said…Jason was persistent, and I really did want to perform at the Coach Tavern. It reminded me of some of the pubs back home Gramps used to play at. It was far enough away I wouldn’t have to worry about word getting home to Dad. Lara insisted I go for it—said it would be like karaoke—but way better because I’d be singing my own songs.
So, Jason and I started working on a few tracks I could sing at the pub. I pulled three songs from my collection that I thought would work with his style. But Jason’s connection never followed through when he asked if I could have a time slot. The songs sat waiting.
Things got weird when Jason finally put two and two together and discovered I was related to Calum Jacobs. His ideas started getting way too big, and he wouldn’t stop talking about producing an entire album with me. He wanted me to forget about the Coach Tavern and other local venues and create a demo tape.
That didn’t feel right though, and I’d slowly come into the realization I didn’t want his hands anywhere near my debut album. I’d resented he was trying to push me into doing something before I was ready, and I wasn’t ready. I’d been okay with the idea of performing a few songs at local venues, but launching my musician career before I’d graduated wasn’t going to happen.
I’d made it perfectly clear from the beginning to him—and myself—I wouldn’t start anything official before I graduated, that I’d primarily wanted to focus on school. Besides, I already knew who I’d ask to help me produce it, and it wasn’t Jason.
My refusal to even sit down and discuss recording my songs with him had been a recent source of tension.
Jason didn’t understand why I wanted to wait until after graduation, even after I’d explained I had promised my father I would graduate university first. He couldn’t comprehend why a promise and my father’s opinion mattered so much to me. He couldn’t understand why I’d prolong the inevitable, when being a musician and songwriter was within my reach.
I couldn’t tell him I was prolonging it because I simply didn’t want his help. The collaboration just didn’t feel right anymore, which was growing more and more apparent each day that passed. I didn’t think he could help me achieve the sound I wanted, and he lacked the contacts he claimed he had.
Of course, I couldn’t tell him that—and dumping him over it felt wrong too. So I just explained collaborating with someone I was romantically involved with was too complicated. It was too messy.
It was a good rule to have, if I intended on working in this industry. Romantic relationships could get chaotic, and that never boded well for collaborations. But Jason hadn’t been thrilled with my explanation, and things had felt off ever since, even though I’d invited him along on the trip, just like he wanted.
But who was I kidding? Things had felt off from the very beginning of our relationship. Jason was like an outfit I’d tried on that didn’t fit me quite right, but I insisted on wearing anyway because I’d spent the money.
From the start, it was a square peg, round hole kind of relationship. Although we had similar tastes in music, that was where our similarities ended. Jason was arrogant and acted as if the world owed him favors.
