My heart skips a beat at the thought of Adam Jacobson entering our church. My father is very old school and expects his congregation to keep up that mentality of wearing their Sunday best when you come to praise the Lord.
Add in everything that’s happened in the past, and I can hear it now, the sound of a record screeching to a halt as Adam walks into my dad’s place of worship. His head would turn in shock and—I hate to say it—disgust of the man covered in tattoos.
We’ll have to do thisbeforehis tour ends, so we can avoid the awkwardness.
“I’ll tell you what. We’ll set up a time very soon for you to stay with me and practice.”
Cailin dramatically nods her head as she bounces on the heels of her feet. “Thank you so much, Miss Russo.”
Linda wraps her hand around Cailin. “Come on, sweetie. We have to get home. Thank you, Miss Russo.”
“My pleasure. I’ll see you on Monday, Cailin.”
“Bye,” her tiny voice calls out as she waves while walking away.
* * *
My mind has been wandering ever since I found out Adam Jacobson has a daughter.
Every female has her eye on a certain bad boy, that one guy she wouldn’t dream of actually doing anything with but loves to admire from afar. Adam always caught my attention when I passed a magazine rack or his picture flashed across my Instagram—because, yes, I follow him and have for years.
No matter the tattoos that run up his neck or the way his hair always looks messy yet perfect, every picture of him spikes my heart rate.
I used to sneak rock music when I was younger, keeping it down really low in my room, listening to the hard guitar riffs with hearts in my eyes. At the time, my fourteen-year-old self wanted to defy my parents strict, clean living lifestyle and run off with the first bad boy I met.
I might be a kindergarten teacher, but inside is someone dying to be heard, to make a difference, the way Adam has through music. Knowing that he has secrets that might change his bad-boy image intrigues me even more.
I pull up my playlist on my phone and click through until I get to Devil’s Breed. Scrolling through the songs, I search for one that might stand out, giving me clues to who Adam really is.
I decide on their first album and run through the songs—not listening to every one entirely, but trying to get more of a feeling to his words.
Their first album is raw and gritty with a lot of pent-up anger. As the albums switch, I can feel a healing that he was achieving through his art. The anger is gone, and questioning now stands in its place.
This was the album that got me throughmyhard times. My parents think I turned solely to the Bible and God to help heal me, but really, it was just as much music as it was my faith. Music might have been the cause of my pain, but it was still my doctor, my therapy, and my lifeline.
The cover of the next album pops up on my screen, and I pause, taking in the pink heart that graces the cover. It’s a collage of music notes, guitars, and even flames all around. But it’s unmistakable that the core of the design is a pink heart.
It was released five years ago—the year Cailin was born.
Each song has a different tone. There are songs of forgiveness, inner peace, and even love.
He wasn’t keeping her a secret from his world; she was there, in plain sight, just no one thought to pay attention.
I’m paying attention now, Adam, and I like what I’m hearing.
4
Adam
As much as concerts are my entire world, the after-parties are the entire demise of the high I had merely an hour before.
My manager knows not to plan one after every show, but some are a required part of the gig. Radio stations want to give away tickets, and fans pay big money to party with us.
It’s at these events that I feel like I can’t be myself. Here, I’m the rock star, putting on a show for everyone, trying to act like the rest of my band.
Onstage is therealme—music being the only thing that makes me feel absolutely alive. Back here, partying, is not and never really has been me.
The best parties are the ones where the fans talk about our songs and how they’ve helped them through certain parts of their lives. I’ve been there, turning to music for healing, and hearing that I’ve helped them affirms my purpose in life while making these parties tolerable.
