Crazier

Prologue

Most people respect their fathers. To some, they're Superman. To others, a friend to talk to.

 

Hero.

 

Inspiration.

 

Role model.

He was more than that to me. He was more than any superhero, more than any friend could ever be - in my eyes, my father was God.

My mother named me after my father so one day I would find someone to love me like she loved him. As long as I can remember, people loved me and I loved them right back. They'd call me adorable when I was young, and by the time I turned twelve, I'd had more girlfriends than anyone I knew, including my player of a brother, Jackson. Sure, half of them I held hands with and they squealed, but I didn't care, and Jackson loved having a ladies man for a brother.

I loved making him smile, my brother and my father were my heroes and my biggest inspirations. Most brothers get along. I like to think that Jackson and I had something special, no matter what we were doing I had a good time, whether it was going out to the movies and both ending up with new 'friends', or simply kicking a ball around, I would always do everything I could to make him smile.

People thought it was cute, our relationship, especially his latest girlfriend. Jackson would think it was hilarious when I hit on my sister, Katie's, friends. Always determined to impress Jackson and my parents, I'd find one of her friends and treat her as best I knew how, making sure to ask her best friend first. Most of the time it was Katie, who would sigh but give in, but either way, I grew up being loved by everyone. I had my friends, my sister's friends, and my brother's friends. My parents' friends. I was never bullied, never the object of harsh words or petty remarks.

I guess it made me naive in a way, looking back now. I didn't care when I grew up, I knew that as long as I smiled at someone they'd smile back and start a conversation. Dad once told me that innocence could be a weakness.

I didn't realize how true that statement was until I sent in the demo.

Growing up, I would sing for anyone who asked, whether it was two lines or a mini concert. My parents had me perform at business parties they hosted, I would play my piano and sing for hours on hours. My father taught me how to play, under the stained glass window in the old church on the hill. I loved it with everything I had in me, and by the time I was seven, I had more people coming to watch me play on a Tuesday night then people who would come to church on Sunday mornings.

I loved it, performing for people was something I never got tired of. Singing and playing, I could do it for as long as I could, only stopping to eat or sleep. My hands would ache, but there was nothing like feeling the ivory keys under my fingertips, nothing that could bring me the joy like playing piano could.

It was Katie who started it all. One day as I played at the church, being the irritable sixteen year old she was, she sent Evan to me. His sister, Michelle, was, and still is, Katie's best friend, but we had never met, even if Michelle knew more of my secrets than I knew I possessed.

I had never been more grateful to anyone than to Katie that day I met Evan. I had been singing Hey Jude, playing the old hit in the church, when I heard the voice joining me from the doorway. By the time the song was over, I knew I had found my newest friend, the boy with the jet black hair and sparkling green eyes that sang with me rather than letting me take the stage. We had gone to my house hours later, only to end up squished between our sisters as they pestered us on our latest 'crushes'.