Her eyes widened as she leaned in close. “Are you hurt?” She put her hand to my calf; she’d seen the cuts there before.
I shook my head, and Lilli immediately relaxes and gives me a hug. “I’m proud of you.”
I said nothing; I just took some deep breaths like my therapist told me to and listed out the people I love in my head. Why did I flinch when Eric’s name was on that mental list? Was it some kind of premonition?
I tried to get ready for the set—just a few songs, in and out… but that fog of ambiguous guilt, shame, and fear was still weighing on my mind. I needed a release, but I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t self-harm because… I just couldn’t give myself the option. It wasn’t an option, and I held on to that.
I thought about getting my phone out and typing out my feelings into the notes app, but as I went to grab it, Lilli stood, and I realized we were on deck.
Shit.My blood was rushing in my ears as time fragmented. Suddenly, I was following Lilli on stage as I tripped on literally nothing. A few people in the audience snickered, but I couldn’t see any faces in the darkness beyond the stage lights. Usually, that would be a comfort—I could pretend they weren’t there or could tune them out.
But right then, it felt like I was under a microscope, my faults and failures on display. I glanced down at my calves to make sure no blood was seeping out from the bandages, but there were no bandages because I wasn’t injured.
Lilli plugged her guitar in to the amp as I made my way over to the keyboard. We had the drums prerecorded, and I stepped on the pedal to start it.
It was the longest song of my life as I tried to reset my face into a mask of joy and happiness. The song was about having a great time with friends at a party at the end of summer. I was so grateful that Lilli was on the guitar to work the crowd and walk around. I just didn’t have it in me.
After the song, Lilli came over to me, and I shook my head a little, indicating that I wanted to stay on keys. She nodded in understanding.
“Alright everyone, we are going to slow down a little bit,” she said as she looked over at me.Who’s taking the lead?
“This song is one I wrote,” my voice is dry, “about the darkness inside us and the light worth living for. It’s called ‘The Depths’.”
I couldn’t stop the tears that blurred my vision, and as I snapped my eyes closed and sang to Eric, I knew he was out there listening. I heard Lilli singing the harmonies like a lifeline. When the song ended, I opened my eyes and saw parts of the audience had been waving their cellphone flashlights in solidarity.
I knew that, no matter what, I wanted my words to be heard. If people related to my songs, that would be enough.
27 - Connie - Now
“It’s like she doesn’t see my point of view!”
I’m venting to Eric, pacing the length of the tour bus. Lilli spent most of the week in a recording studio working on a demo while I’ve been working on more of my own songs. I just finished up a particular one about feeling betrayed; I guess that made my feelings stronger, enough to where I started complaining to Eric instead of hooking up, which is what we were originally out here to do.
“I don’t care that she’s signing a record deal,” I continue. “I mean, I care, obviously, because I’m happy for her. It’s just that I’m always the one doing the understanding, and I don’t feel like I’m being understood.”
Eric is silent, listening to me. I can’t stop the word vomit.
“Do I think she’s abandoning me? That’s a strong way to word it, but a little. What am I supposed to do? Not that it’s her responsibility to make my career happen for me, I know that, but she didn’t even think of me, not even as an afterthought. She didn’t even ask if they would consider having me come on and work with her.
“And again, I don’t really blame her. I can understand how she’d get so excited about everything that she didn’t stop tothink. But even after I brought it up, she didn’t even ask about it.”
“And what did you want her to ask exactly?” Eric speaks for the first time.
“Something. If she could pick the cowriters on the album, for starters, and if so, what that looks like.”
“Did you tell her that?”
I pause my pacing. I can’t remember, which means I probably didn’t, so I move on to other frustrations.
“I’m doing my best. Why can’t she see that? She keeps trying to push me on stage, and I can’t do it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I stopped performing.” Eric’s confusion is all over his face. “Did you not know that?”
He shrugs and shifts a little in his spot on the couch. “I just figured you guys were both doing solo careers. I didn’t know you gave it up.”
I cross my arms. “I didn’t ‘give it up’, I just… okay, fine, I gave it up. Thanks for making me sound like a quitter.”
