TWENTY-FOUR
THE SONG OF DOING IT TOGETHER
SEBASTIAN
The night before our concert,I dreamed that Alex and I were performing on a massive stage in front of thousands of people—but when I opened my mouth to sing, nothing came out. Not even a croak. The crowd grew unsettled in no time, and the calls for me to start singing got louder and louder. No matter how hard I tried, though, my voice was completely gone, and soon, everyone was booing me off the stage.
Clinging to my guitar, I turned and ran, but then a hand grabbed my wrist. “Sebastian,” said a voice that could only belong to Alex.
I tried to get a good look at his face, but it was distorted like the rest of the stage. Tears welled in my eyes, but even though I couldn’t see him, just knowing he was with me eased my pain.
“Sebastian,” the voice said again. “Sing for me.”
Just then, Alex’s face came into focus. He smiled softly, wrapping his hands around my back and pulling me against his chest.
Suddenly, the stadium was empty, and it was only the two of us at center stage. The spotlights above us snapped off with a dull, echoing thud. I knew our career was over after this, yet mybody felt light. I didn’t want to run anymore; I just wanted to be in his arms.
“Sing for me,” he said again.
I opened my mouth, but instead of singing one of our songs, I improvised. I wanted to express how I felt about Alex, how he had saved me from a shame I couldn’t name or explain. The melody that came out felt so warm and familiar, yet unlike anything I had ever heard before. For some reason, I knew I was dreaming. I kept singing, repeating the phrases, trying to memorize the melody so I could sing it again when I woke up.
“Sebastian,” someone else called from far away.
Drums kicked in from the back of the stage, but the tempo was far too fast for what I was singing. They grew louder and faster by the second, drowning out my voice.
“Sebastian,” it called again, louder this time.
I couldn’t stop, though; I still hadn’t memorized the whole song.
“Sebastian!”
I opened my eyes.
Morning sunlight streaked across the ceiling. Light knocks on the door echoed through the room. Alex was sitting next to me in bed, the comforter draped over his bent legs. He was still naked from last night, a deep sleep crease pressed into the back of his left shoulder. His hair was disheveled, and he wore a sly, sleepy smile.
“How late is it?” I asked.
He held out his phone to show me. It was half past five.
More knocking at my door.
“Yeah, we’re awake,” I shouted.Why was Nora so adamant about waking us up this early?Yesterday, we had decided not to go to the practice room until nine, since everything had gone so well, and we didn’t want to jinx it by overpracticing.
“I am now, too,” Nora yelled through the door. “What’s with the singing?”
“Singing?” My eyes darted to Alex, searching for an answer.
He pulled the corners of his mouth up, scrunching his nose and eyebrows together. “I’ve heard of peoplespeakingin their sleep before, but neversinging.”
It had only been seconds ago, but I had already forgotten. I had sung a song for Alex in my dream.Wait. What was the melody again?I had tried so hard to remember it, but now it was gone.
“Well, I’m going back to bed now,” Nora said from the other side of the door. “You should get some more rest, too. It’s going to be a long night. You’ll be fine. They’ll love you. No need to overpractice.” She shuffled away.
Alex tucked his phone under his pillow, turned to me, and draped his arms around my shoulders. “Are you okay?”
“Was I really singing in my sleep?”
“It was beautiful.”
