Violetta (Violet) Jackson has big dreams. None of which happen to include sitting in detention for a week straight for a lab disaster that wasn't even her fault. That's all thanks to Will Hawthorne, his friends (one of whom she unfortunately used to...
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If the last week had dragged on with no end in sight; the following week passed by in such a blur that it felt like I could miss it if I blinked.
I reached out to Danny and Olivia on the same day that I went over to Danny's, apologizing so profusely I almost thought they would duct tape my mouth shut. Still, they welcomed me back with open arms. I was so relieved I could've cried, but I opted for a giant bear hug for each of them instead, not letting go until they were begging me to stop.
After that, once Danny briefed them on our secured spot at Woodlands, there was absolutely no time to lose.
"We have a week and a half to put together a live performance for hundreds of people in one of the biggest festivals in the country," Ryder said, looking uncharacteristically grim.
Olivia glanced at me, then at Danny, lacing her hands together and resting them on her knee from where she sat, in her usual spot by the speakers. We were still gathering in Will's garage, despite his noticeable absence that still makes my heart pang in my chest, but I forced myself not to dwell on it for too long.
"But we're familiar with On the Run," Olivia pointed out.
"Actually," I said suddenly, making all of them look up at me, "I wanted to ask you guys a favor."
And so I told them my crazy idea, the idea that struck me that same day I left Danny's, the same day Evelyn talked with me and left me feeling better and lighter than I had in days. It struck me at midnight and had me scribbling in my lyric notebook until I could see the sun creeping in through my curtains. The melodies rang through my head, over and over, the same way they did that one night after I sang in front of Will, the same way they did that night he drove me home before everything fell apart. I tried not to let my hand shake as I showed them my lyric notebook and borrowed Olivia's guitar to strum the melody that had been stuck in my head for so long. I watched as their faces lit up, one by one.
"That," Danny said after I was done, "is what we're playing at Woodlands."
"Absolutely," Olivia said, exchanging a grin with Ryder, who was suddenly looking like himself, beaming at me.
"Correction," he said, his grin growing wider, "that is the song we're crushing Woodlands with."
I couldn't help but smile at their infectious excitement. It made my face warm and my heart flutter.
But then we got right back to work. Deciding to play a music festival with a song that was barely half-formed and not even recorded yet proved to be quite a task.
Every day after school, and after my shifts at La Promenade on some days, we all gathered in Will's garage. The first thing we needed to do was to flesh out the song. The lyrics were all there, and Ryder, Danny, and Olivia all helped add in the other instruments. We started recording it almost right after I showed them the lyrics and the melody, using the Rode NT5 mic to record it
