Waiting To Fly

Chapter Six: Stella

There were lots of stars that night. I love the stars. My name means star, of course. But that's not why I like them. Looking at the stars reminds me of how small and insignificant I really am. I used to hate that feeling, but now I live for it.

Lucy had my guitar on her lap. She was playing some intricate picking pattern and gazing at the stars. That's right- she wasn't even looking at her fingers, and what she was playing is HARD.

 I didn't want to break the silence. It was so peaceful. But at the same time, I wanted to talk to Lucy before it got late. "Tell me about yourself. What's your songwriting process? Music first, or lyrics?"

"Usually both at the same time," she said. "I have to really be feeling it. I can't just write because I'm bored or whatever- it has to come from somewhere real. So when I experience strong emotions over something, I'll write about it."

It had been literally AGES since someone had said something I related to this much. "I love that," I told her. "I'm similar. So, what kind of music do you get inspiration from? Who are your influences?"

"Well... you mostly. You're my inspiration. You're the reason I got into music."

When someone says something like this, I'm never prepared for it. It's the most overwhelming thing anyone could ever say to someone- but especially coming from someone this talented. When Lucy said it to me, I had no idea how to respond. I don't think there is even an appropriate way to respond to something this big. I just stuttered out: "T-thank you?"

 Luckily, Lucy moved on quickly. "So... you really want me to play you a song?"

"Yes please!" I said. 

"Okay," she said softly. "I'll try and play you this one. I only wrote it the other day."

Brave of her. "Go ahead!" I said.

She started to play and sing:

If we take it at face value

It looks like everything is fine

We don't have all the answers all the time

But if we look below the surface

We see a broken world on fire

We don't have all the answers all the time

They say we should just let go and let it be

They say we don't have to face reality

They say...

They say...

She broke off and started crying. "Keep going," I told her.

"I can't," she sobbed. "I forgot the words!"

A wave of sympathy washed over me. I knew that feeling all too well. "Have you written them down?" I asked her. "Do you have a recording?"

"Yes but... I'm so embarrassed."

Now I was almost crying too. I gave her a hug. "It's okay," I told her. "It's okay, I don't mind. I understand. It's a new song. You wrote it two days ago. You can't be expected to have it memorised."

"I bet you never forget your words," she blubbered.

I couldn't hold back laughter at this. "I always forget my words," I told her, and it couldn't have been more true.

"I don't believe you," said Lucy. "You're just trying to comfort me."

"Let me tell you something," I said, and I couldn't believe what I was about to tell her. I've never told anyone this. I never talked about it- I tried my best to suppress the memory. It was really that embarrassing. "When I was fourteen, I had my first ever sold out gig. It was here, at Cassette Nine. I'd just written Show Of Your Life that morning. Do you know that song?"

"Of course I do!" she said. "I know every song you've released."

"That actually means a lot to me that you know it," I said. "It's one of my favourites, and not many people know it."

My label really hated that song. They straight up said it made no sense and would damage my reputation as a songwriter. I had to fight so hard for them to even let me record it at all. In the end, they begrudgingly let me include it as a deluxe track on the album. To this day I wish it could've been on the standard version. It would've been the perfect opening track.

"Anyway, I'd written the song that morning, but I was so excited about it that I decided to open the gig with it," I said. "A minute before going on, I realised I'd left my lyrics at home, but I decided to wing it anyway. It took me a whole minute to remember the first verse. I kept stopping and starting, and then my strap broke and I dropped my guitar. Two of my strings snapped. Everyone left before I could finish the song."

Lucy had stopped crying. She looked at me with big eyes. "Did that really happen to you?"

Now I'm the one crying. "Yes, that really happened. I messed up. I made a fool of myself onstage, and ever since then... I'm still terrified that one day, people might find out about it, and they'll think I'm no good, and a joke."

"Stella, please!" Lucy's eyes are full of fire. Her words are full of conviction. "No one will ever think that, because it's not true! You're the best artist in the world, and if anyone tells you otherwise, they're wrong and you shouldn't listen to them."

"T...thanks," I tried to say through sobs. I didn't know about best artist in the world- but I was so relieved to have this off my chest. So relieved that the person I told was understanding and didn't judge me for it. "You'll never tell anyone about this, right?"

"Never."

A second later, her eyes lit up. "I remembered the next line!"

"That's g-great," I tried to tell her. "D-do you still want to..."

"If you don't mind."

I laughed so hard at that. "OF COURSE I DON'T MIND!" 

"Should I start from from the beginning, or from where I left off?" she asked.

"Whatever you like," I told her, wiping my tears with my hand.

She starts to play. Her music transports me to another place.