•••••Aiden's Perspective
Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep...
I woke up to the sound of my alarm. I rolled over and shut it off.
5:45 a.m.
I climbed out of bed and quickly changed into a pair of black jeans, and a plaid button-down.
I pulled my kinky-curly hair back into a bun, and set to work.
I packed up everything: my clothes, my toothbrush, etc.
I slid all the loose scraps of paper with scribbled stanzas into my backpack, and soon the entire hotel room was void of my personal belongings.
Too void, in fact.
The journal was missing.
I'd searched half the room before I remembered that I'd left it with Cephas at the opera house.
I grabbed my phone and camouflage-patterned jacket, and headed out the door.
I silently walked down the hallway to the elevator, and set off down the sidewalks to my destination.
Rehearsal started at seven, and almost nobody showed up early if they didn't have to.
If all went according to plan, I could slip in and out unnoticed, and catch a bus to the airport, out of Michigan by eight o'clock.
I made my way into the rehearsal room and packed up my sheet music.
Just as I'd hoped, the journal was sitting atop Cephas' case; a very precarious setting for something so private, but the string wrapped around it looked untouched.
I picked it up and opened it, reading all the words I'd written.
Before I could stop myself, I pulled out a pencil and etched one last stanza onto the paper.
I closed it and tied the string back into place, and continued gathering my things.
I zipped Cephas' case shut.
Almost done.
"Aiden?"
I froze.
No, not now.
I turned around. "DeMarius."
"What are you doing here? It's like, an hour before rehearsal."
"Um,"
He walked towards me, glancing at the violin case and the music that sat atop it.
"Why do I get the feeling that you're going somewhere?"
I felt a sudden rise of emotion in my throat, remembering the man's words.
"Thank you for coming on and working with us for this past month and a half or so.
Unfortunately, we're now able to relieve you of duty. The violinist you were stepping in for is out of the hospital, and ready to begin playing again.
You can finish your time here with us in Michigan, or you can go home now. If you choose to stay, we'll probably ease you out of your post and ease him in, switch out for acts or something of that kind.
The choice is up to you."
"Aiden?" He was suddenly next to me, placing his hand on my shoulder.
"I'm leaving." I whispered, unable to hide it any longer. "I'm going home."
"What?" He bent his head to catch my eye. "What do you mean?"
"They don't need me to play anymore. The violinist I subbed for is coming back, and they can't pay for an extra room and transportation."
"There's no way you could stay with us?"
I shook my head. "I want to. I want to stay so bad."
"I'll figure something out. Maybe they can add another violinist." He suggested.
"No, they won't. They can't pay for an extra person."
His eyes softened, betraying a truly heartbroken sympathy. "I'm sorry."
I forced a smile. "I'm gonna miss you guys. So much."
"Particularly Sky, I'm guessing?"
I breathed a laugh, but found myself blinking back tears. "I don't like lying."
"Does he...does he know?"
"Know what?"
He gazed at me, his dark eyes pleading with me for the truth. "Does Sky know you love him?"
I squeezed my eyes shut, allowing the tears to roll down my cheeks. "No."
"He deserves to know."
I nodded. "I know he does. I just...I wish I had more time,"
"You can't finish your time with us in Detroit?"
I shook my head. "They offered, I refused. It would only make it harder to leave."
He nodded, swiping a tear-track off my cheek with his thumb. "I get that."
"It wouldn't hurt as bad if I hadn't gotten so attached to all of you."
He slipped his arm around my shoulders, tugging me forward.
I allowed him to envelope me in his arms, in a kind of brotherly embrace.
"I have to swing by the hotel one last time, to pick up my suitcase." I said. "I think I'm gonna say goodbye to Ben and Josh while I'm there."
He nodded, breaking away from me. "I'll text them."
I dried my eyes on my sleeve, and slipped the straps of the violin case onto my shoulders.
I moved to pick up my sheet music and the journal from the cafe, when I stopped.
Sky deserved to know.
But the reason I didn't want to see him again that morning was the same reason I refused to stay until the tour left Detroit.
If I saw him again, I'd never leave.
"DeMarius," I picked up the journal and held it out to him. "Give this to Sky."
