The Tour. | +18 | BWWM

𝄞 32 | Together

The keys on my mother's organ weren't stiff. Zoey and I have been sitting at it together at my house for more than an hour. We haven't shared a word, just switching back and forth between songs on the organ. It's a blast from the past for both of us. Maybe we win but most likely we won't. That crash and burn at the show tonight was turned into something beautiful by Zo. But who knows how it will be received by the voting audience at home? Everyone in that place knew in that second Zoey was amazing. But you never know if it will translate.

I lean my head against Zoey's shoulder. The watery look in her green eyes wasn't going away any time soon. We fall into the notes of my mother's favorite song. The memory is so embedded into the keys. Sometimes you can't fit your expectations when it goes all wrong. It's ok that it can't be fixed. It is what is right. Even when it hurts.

"I wanted it to be different," she says. I lift my head from her shoulder at her words. Zoey's head leans against mine instead.

"Different?" I answer.

"Different from last time. I thought I could be who I am, period. Not what I am if that makes any sense."

"It makes sense but fuck 'em." I lift my eyebrow at her when she gazes up at my brown eyes. I'm black like I wouldn't know what it's like to be that one black girl in the music class. Or the only black person in the music engineering program. Not the woman who loves neo-soul music. Not a decent guitarist. Not an ok organ player. Not my mother's daughter who played organ like it was the stuff of soulful angels. And my grandmother's daughter who played guitar that was straight out of a juke joint. With the kind of sound that Eshu blessed on the crossroads himself. I was a little bit of both loves. I'm all of those things whether I want to be something else or not. My eyebrow came up saying all of that. We talked about it before that first year at my college music lab. That asshole in class treated me like I was stupid. The only person I could talk to was Zo. She knew what the eyebrow meant. We don't get to be who we are but that doesn't mean we stop being who we are. It's just an extra bit more.

"When they see me, I know what they see. I've always known but just because someone wants to fit you into a box doesn't mean you need to go into it. Be exactly who you are," I say to her. Zoey has spent so long in this no-man zone with herself. She's not in the closet but she's not open about her sexuality. Just because she isn't hiding it doesn't mean that this no-man zone isn't hurting her. On top of the complete privacy violation. We're on a reality tv show but the bedrooms shouldn't have had hidden cameras. Every camera inside the hotel room should have been a camera crew. That video was a hidden camera shot just by the crappy video quality.

"I can be me B," she replies. That's what I wanted to hear from her. This isn't the end of everything and it's not the end of the world. It's the start of it. It's all the stars in the sky and all the places she will go. Endless...

Zo's fingers dance across the keys. It's a magic spell that has always worked with both of us. Music is our spaceship and our adventure. For that I'm thankful. All the angst and emotion has a place to go. It has a beat to follow and can flow thankfully outwards instead of rebounding in on itself. In this way, we both get to fly.

My mother loves, "His Eye is on the Sparrow" by Civilla D. Martin. Our fingers trip into the song as if guided by a hand to steady our souls. The thing about my mother is she changed the words to the song. God has always been a woman for my mother and my grandmother. I have to agree with them. The song works better that way.

We both played it out my mom's way and cried it out together.

Why should I feel discouraged,

Why should the shadows come,

Why should my heart be lonely,

And long for heav'n and home;

When she is my portion?

My constant Friend is she;

Her eye is on the sparrow,

And I know she watches me;

Her eye is on the sparrow,

And I know he watches me.

Refrain:

I sing because I'm happy,

I sing because I'm free;

For her eye is on the sparrow,

And I know she watches me.

"Let not your heart be troubled,"

Her tender word I hear,

And resting on her goodness,

I lose my doubts and fears;

Though by the path he leadeth,

But one step I may see;

His eye is on the sparrow,

And I know she watches me;

Her eye is on the sparrow,

And I know she watches me. [Refrain]

Whenever I am tempted,

Whenever clouds arise;

When songs give place to sighing,

When hope within me dies,

I draw the closer to him,

From care she sets me free;

Her eye is on the sparrow,

And I know she watches me;

Her eye is on the sparrow,

And I know she watches me. [Refrain]

A/n: I love this song. I'm doing a bit more posting but yeah, coming to the end folks. It's been fun don't forget to vote, star, all of that normal stuff. Tell a friend.