Worlds Apart

Chapter Thirteen

Around this time I should have been sleeping. It was just part of the day that had become my habit.

I’d had quite the schedule going on, after all. Waking up in the early afternoon to make my way blearily through a cup of coffee on the way to the studio, spend the day creating music with anyone who was there for the day between arguing with Cash, go out for dinner with a whoever was in the mood, some more recording and then spend my time with Cam until the early morning hours.

Rinse and repeat.

It was really a neat situation I’d had going.

However that was long since gone. I was waking up earlier to sit with Logan for hours on end as I taught him to play guitar, though the deal was that he met me at my motel room with a piping hot mug of coffee each time.

Since I was unwilling to cut short my time with Cam at night and unable to tell Logan to give me longer to sleep because he’d fix me with a look, I was getting deeper and darker marks beneath my eyes. They were soon going to be as permanent as a tattoo if I kept going, but I wasn’t ready to give any part of it up, at least not yet. One day I was just going to have to sleep through the entire day, though.

And that’s why I was sitting with my legs curled up to me chest in the chair next to the pool, sunglasses to hide my lack of sleep as well in defense from the sun. I had a frayed jean jacket slipped on, but I could tell it was going to be abandoned soon enough; the heat was already beginning to pulse down on my bare legs. However I wasn’t quite ready to do that yet as I watched Logan play the chord I’d just taught him.

It was a basic enough one, e minor, and he was getting the hang of it, just like he had with everything else I’d taught him. We’d gone through some of the major chords and a few others, and soon enough we’d move onto something a bit more difficult, but I thought I’d teach him how to play a song with the ones he knew before we moved onto the more difficult chords and changes that were to come.

To be honest when we’d started doing these morning lessons, I hadn’t been sure what to expect from Logan. I mean, the arrogant tabloid monster was drilled into my head, but that wasn’t what I was getting from these lessons.

I got an overly confident Harrison brother to be sure – I hadn’t expected anything less – but it was the willingness to do anything I asked that shocked me. When I told him he did something wrong, he didn’t get annoyed and snap at me, instead he just listened patiently as I explained, his eyes sharp and focused on me. I’d been under the impression that he was hard to teach and that was why he’d never managed to play the guitar, but that was far from the truth from the times I’d spent with him.

It was comical that the tabloids depicted him as the heavy fisted stupidly boorish brother when it was so apparently the opposite of the truth. Logan Harrison was far from stupid; in fact he had to be on the same level as his brother, both of their eyes held that sharp feature of attention and ability for absorption.

 And I was finding that he had a different way of looking at music than his younger brother, but he too had a way of capturing it that was fascinating.

Whereas Cam wanted to get and listen to everything on the planet, selecting what he liked and what was better left to the dogs after thought, Logan knew instantly whether he appreciated something or not. And he had a grasp of playing music that came from his gut rather than what he’d been taught, because he’d told me that neither he nor Cam had ever taken a music class in their lives. They had different ways for looking at music or what was given to them to play, but that didn’t mean that one was worse than other, just different. Cam wanted to learn everything while Logan was usually quite content with just feeling his way through it.