Cal Jackson's new life as a rockstar fails to account for one thing: the existence of the girl he loves.
*****
"What are you thinking about?" she asks.
"A song," I say. "A new song."
I stare at the ocean as I sing the song that I wrote, something th...
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Two years later
"And the winner of The Best Album of the Year goes to..." the announcer pauses that the audiences hold their breaths, anticipating the result. "Cal Jackson."
The people in the hall cheer as I stand up. I stride toward the stage to receive my trophy. I'm grateful for winning this award, but somehow, I feel something missing tonight.
Because Amy isn't here.
I take my trophy and approach the mic stand, ready to give my speech in the biggest hall in LA, filled with famous singers and celebrities.
"Good evening, everyone," I start. I plan to keep my speech simple and short. "Wow." I huff. "To be honest, I didn't expect this."
I really didn't.
Winning the best album of the year is indeed such a surprise for me, because there are a lot of other great candidates who have been in this industry much longer than I've been.
Winning this means that all of my hard work has indeed paid off. They don't only love one or two songs but the whole fucking album.
"Thank you. This is such an honor for me," I say. "I want to thank Oscar and Dean, who have been with me while I was making this album."
I start mentioning other names in my record label, until I realize that I can't mention them one by one.
"I'd like to thank my wife, Amy. I wouldn't have been able to do this without her."
Except for this part. No matter how hard I try to describe how much Amy means to me, it's still not enough. Words can never be enough to show how important she is to me. I can go on and on, but it still wouldn't do justice. Our feelings for each other aren't something that can be explained by words.
My phone suddenly buzzes, and I take it out from my suit pocket. I can sense that the audiences are surprised.
Who the fuck takes out his phone in the middle of receiving an award and giving their speech on national television?
That's me.
"I'm sorry. I have to take this."
Silence feels the air. I might have just made all the audiences' jaws drop.
I can't help it. I've been having this horrible feeling inside me that something might have gone wrong while I'm here, attending this event.
And my gut instinct is right. The moment I read the message on my phone screen, my heart almost stops.
"I'm sorry," I quickly say to everyone in the hall. "It's an emergency. I have to go."
Gasps and murmurs echo as I rush down the stage toward the exit.
Just as I step out of the hall, Dean calls, "Cal! What just happened?"
I can hear his footsteps pounding behind me when he tries to catch me, but I care not. I keep striding toward the lobby, calling my driver to pick me there.
