I can do it with a broken heart (Lando Norris)

Chapter Four

He laughed as she threw her hands around dramatically, picking up his car keys and going outside to rummage in his suitcase. Gym shorts successfully located, he headed back inside, ducking into the bathroom to change.

When he came back out she'd disappeared, he could hear chopping noises coming from what he assumed must be the kitchen. Passing by the piano on his way to find her, his eyes were drawn to the paper lying on top, her handwritten scribbles of what he assumed were lyrics.

You shit-talked me under the table
Talking rings and talking cradles
I wish I could un-recall
How we almost had it all
Dancing phantoms on the terrace
Are they second-hand embarrassed
That I can't get out of bed?
Cause something counterfeit's dead
It was legendary
It was momentary
It was unnecessary
Should've let it stay buried
Oh, what a valiant roar
What a bland goodbye
The coward claimed he was a lion
I'm combing through the braids of lies
"I'll never leave" ...
"Never mind"
Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire
Your arson's match your somber eyes
And I'll still see it until I die
You're the loss of my life

He jolted away at the sound of her calling his name, suddenly feeling as though he'd been caught reading her diary. It had caught him off guard, reading how devastatingly sad the lyrics were. It didn't fit in at all with the show he'd watched her perform. On the whole, it had been so upbeat, dancing around to love songs about getting married and their future together. He found himself wondering again what had happened.

She was almost done making lunch when he walked into the kitchen, still feeling guilty for having looked at what she was writing. "Sorry, it's chicken salad." She shot him an apologetic look. "Those body suits don't have a lot of give in them and I need to make sure I can still fit in them for the next show." She laughed, but it didn't meet her eyes.

"Where is the next show?" He asked, taking the bowl she offered him and following her out onto the deck facing the ocean that wrapped around the whole house.

"I fly out to Italy next week, then Spain, France, England, Germany and I am not even sure where after that. I just get on the plane and Cassie tells me where we are before I go on so I don't say the wrong city." She laughed. "It's been manic and we are only just over halfway through."

"That's crazy, how much longer have you got left?" He asked, sitting down beside her.

She paused for a moment like she was doing maths in her head. "It'll be pretty much Christmas this next year the last show. There's a three-month gap planned at the end of the European dates, one of the guitarist's wives is pregnant and I wanted to try and leave a gap for him to spend some time with them before we carry on. And the label wants the next album ready to be announced at the final show so I need some time to get that recorded too."

"Sounds exhausting." He commented.

She shrugged. "It's better than sitting here with nothing to do I suppose." She took a breath as though she was considering her words before she spoke. "I'm struggling to write anything that sounds remotely like what they want though so I'm not sure the album will be done." She confessed.

"What do you mean?" He asked, playing innocent like he hadn't already read the words she'd written.

"The last few albums I've released were pretty upbeat. Written when I was in a good place with Joe for the most part. Even the ones where the lyrics aren't that happy they kind of added a pop beat into it and made them sound a lot happier than they did when I wrote them.  They wanted me to kind of stick with the theme, they know it sells well, but even with me and Cassie picking the better ones of what I've written they still didn't like it. Too depressing apparently." She looked for a moment like she was going to cry. "I think sometimes they forget I'm a person, not an album-producing machine."