But a few weeks ago, inspiration took hold of me, and it didn’t stop. I wanted it to be a surprise for Creed and Collins, so Ispent several sleepless nights writing until I got it right. To think I almost fucked everything up by leaving…
It’s a song of love and hope and yearning. I don’t even know if it’s something Bear and Blair would agree to put in the album, but I don’t care about that.
It’s a song for Collins and Creed. A song about finding family and forgiveness. It’s an apology.
Wilder had walked in on me humming the melody when he arrived early for one of our sessions a few weeks ago. I’ve never seen a man sulk as hard as he did when I wouldn’t sing for him. It was all in jest; he wasn’t truly upset. He understood that the first time these words would come to life wouldn’t be for anyone other than the very people they were written for.
The door to the studio swings open, and Creed barges in, excitement evident as it practically pulses from his veins. He pauses when he sees where I’m sitting, a wild grin tugging at his lips.
“You’re behind the mic?” He narrows his eyes playfully before they widen, and his mouth pops open on a dramatic gasp. “Holy shit. You’re behind the mic.” He turns back to where Collins is sitting on a stool in the corner of the room. “Baby, he’s behind the mic.”
Collins laughs as she swivels in her seat. “He is.”
He turns back to me. “Why? I mean, I’m fucking thrilled…but why?”
I grip the back of my neck, the nerves in my gut amplifying.
“I-I want to show you two something, but I need your help.” Creed perks up even more at that. “Can you still read sheet music?”
“It’s been a few years, but yeah.” He nods, taking the papers that I hand to him. “Piano?”
“Y-yeah.” I clear my throat, forcing myself to let go of the back of my neck and relax.
I look over at Collins, who waits patiently. Suddenly, she’s too far away, and I need her closer. “C’mere, Snow.”
She hops down and crosses the few feet between us to stand between my legs. Her face is partially hidden by the mic that hangs between us, but I love the way the studio light makes her skin shimmer and glow.
Creed kisses each of our temples before moving to sit behind the piano next to us. I watch with my heart pounding as he reads the music, his eyes luminous as he takes it all in.
His fingers create the first notes, and all of the breath whooshes from my lungs. Something I created is coming to life right before me, and it’s already more than I could’ve ever imagined. He plays the song exactly as I had mapped it out, but somehow it sounds better becauseheis playing it.
I hand my journal to Collins, already open and turned to the page with my lyrics.
My confession.
I give her the option to read what I had written or to simply listen.
The melody circles back and pauses for a beat, letting the leading note linger and hum through the air.
Taking a deep breath, I open my mouth to sing.
I let my story be told with every note.
The world narrows down to three perfect points: Collins, Creed, and me. My voice is quiet to start, nervousness causing my words to tremble as I sing, but the feel of Collins’ hand wrapping around mine and squeezing reassuringly boosts my confidence.
With every word, I tell them just how much they’ve changed me for the better. How breaking down my walls and exposing vulnerability is anything but weak. It’s a plea to keep me accountable and to keep me on my toes. It’s a cry for forgiveness. It’s aboutstayingeven when life hurts.
I swing my gaze between the two of them, ensuring that they know that my words are intended for each of them. It’s a promise that I amhere. That I will never try to take the easy road out again. A vow to stay and fight their demons as well as my own.
The tears that well up in my eyes cascade freely down my cheeks when Creed begins to harmonize and overlay new lyrics on top of mine. The music around us is alive with unrestrained love and an all-consuming energy. Creed plays like he’s known this song his whole life, and it builds and builds into a harmonious crescendo. The universe spins, and we have become its galactic center. A never-ending gravitational pirouette that draws the three of us together.
My eyes widen at the same time Collins covers her mouth. The moment we both realize that he’s managed to pull the lyrics from the song we wrote together about her before we were taken. He worked his usual Creed magic and fit it perfectly into my melody. A contrast, yet a perfect compliment. A perfect fit—just like her. Likeus.
Because we. Are.Real.
The final fermata hasn’t even faded into the electrically charged silence of the studio before Creed rounds the piano and smashes his lips against mine as he grips Collins by the back of her neck, holding her in place for a moment before turning his head to give her the same amount of attention.
I cling to Creed’s shirt with a white-knuckled grip, holding onto him like I may collapse if I let go. I’m shaking, but this time I don’t believe it’s from the tremors.
