Storyteller

Chapter 3

Faith POV:

My manager has set me to start writing with a new up and coming artist, since I'm on "paid leave", which is complete bullshit in the music industry. You never stop working... I'm just not touring or recording. I've been grounded, and stuck with songwriting, even though I did nothing wrong.

In all actuality, I have a lot to write about, and having another artist get the songs, well, it's kind of a good outlet for me. Nobody has to know these words came from me. I can just scream out what I feel, and have it come from someone else's mouth. No harm, no foul.

The up and comer is actually a girl I mentored for a while. She's sweet, but nobody really knows how good of a songwriter she is. She's underrated.

"Hey!" Carrie says, dragging a large guitar case behind her. I stand up, and give her a hug, before sitting across from her in a cloth couch. She slams down on the couch, as if she has had a day. "Traffic was hell." She explains, digging out a notepad. I feel numb as I think more about writing with her.

"Hey Carrie, I don't want this to be a burden on you, alright? I just have a lot, which you probably know about, that I really need to get out." I spit out, trashing her positive mood she had a moment earlier. She sits stone faced, and nods slowly.

"Faith, I'm so sorry about that... That was really just a complete shock. I wasn't sure if it was real or not." She explains. I force a sad smile, my throat feeling tight.

"You just have to promise me that nobody else will know this is from me. This stuff is very private, and hard to talk about." I cross my arms, setting my elbows down on my legs. She nods.

"Absolutely." She agrees. "So are you going to publish the songs anonymously?" She asks. I shake my head.

"Since you're co-writing, we can just release it under your name. I won't have a problem with that." I say, already having the whole idea mapped out in my head. She nods, and opens up her pen. "You know this has been happening for years, right?" I inform her, to be met with shock.

"Why didn't you leave him?" She voices, before immediately regretting it. I don't mind it. She's asking a valid question.

"Because I love him... He doesn't mean to do the things he does, you know? He's like two different men piled into one, and sometimes one is stronger than the other." I let out, feeling a bit of relief that I can just vent.

"Well, there's our song." She smiles a little, starting to write things down on her pad of paper. I watch her scribble desperately. She stares at the words, before scratching it off. "Why don't you start?" She suggests. I smile at her, and pull out my guitar, and begin to strum.

"Red dress, spilled wine, caught in a stupid fight. I'm wrong, you're right. Ring ring, telephone, act like I'm not home... Can't hear the tears cry... And the minutes turn to hours, and they're flying like a jet plane, and we'll make it right tomorrow, but tomorrow's not a sure thing." I sing out, having written some of this last night when I was lying in bed wide awake. Carrie nods, biting her lip.

"I can't imagine..." She says, looking down at her hands. She's too young to understand. She's only twenty four... young enough to be my daughter.

"Once you fall in love, honey, you'll understand. It's hard." I spit out, staring at the notepad. "I always told myself that I'd never be someone's punching bag, but it's just not that easy..."

"Seems pretty easy to me." She says softly, not intending to be harsh.

"He's got a lot of demons. But he's also just that horrified teenage boy I met years before. There's a lot of good with that little bit of bad." I explain, almost trying to reassure myself at the same time.