Page 68 of Between Never and Forever

“Let’s take it from the top again.” I whirled my painted fingernail round and round in a circle because this would be the fifth time.

Something was off. Or maybe everything was. My body was more in tune, coiled and wound up tight around a tiny little smooth piece of metal that somehow seemed to magnify every emotion I had.

My vocalist, Janice, was sitting in one of the chairs and she shook her head. “Well, you have a lot to say today, Keelani. I agree, though, the drums aren’t working in this theater. The echo is overpowering.”

She didn’t say it to me. She said it to Frankie, who was at the side of the stage. He’d been the creative director now for most of my shows, managing all aspects of them. He rubbed his bald head before scratching it and nodded. “We could just have the music play instead of doing it live and have her dancers—”

They discussed my show like I wasn’t there, like I was a prop totheirshow. I’d been so malleable before, flowing like water in the direction they wanted that they would have never expected a shift in the current. I felt the need to be present now, the need to be heard.

“I don’t want dancers,” I blurted loudly. The words fueled a liberation within me. “I don’t want drums either. And my music will be live.”

“Keelani, do you need a break?” Janice said like she was talking to an overtired child.

“No.” And I saw how Janice’s gaze flicked to Frankie’s. My body was on fire with irritation now, my mind going in overdrive. The Ben Wa ball intensified everything, and I was too sensitive, too emotional, too in tune to hold back.

It was all wrong. The set was wrong. The music. The heart of it. When someone came to my concert, I wanted them to feel like the songs were alive, that they were living entities, breathing and moving and rushing through all our veins. Didn’t my creative team want that too?

“Let’s take a small break.” She waved everyone off. “Be back in five.” Immediately, she beelined toward Frankie, and I saw the dancers who had been hired start to back away from me.

“Hey!” I called out to one of them. She smiled softly at me, but her eyes flicked toward Frankie before she meandered over. “What’s your name?”

“Winter,” she said quietly, but I saw her fear and instantly knew this was like other times. Frankie always got me new dancers and most of them never talked with me.

“Were you told not to talk to me?”

“I just…” She cleared her throat. “No. Of course not. We don’t want to bother your process and… I love my job, okay?”

“Of course you do.” I patted her arm, and she nodded meekly.

“Also, congrats on the engagement if it’s… Well, um, congrats.”

There was speculation it wasn’t real. We hadn’t been seen together outside of Dex’s post. Most people knew I went up to the penthouse, I was sure, but I didn’t wear a ring to the rehearsals.

“Winter,” Frankie bellowed, and the girl practically jumped out of her skin. “Let Keelani have a break.”

I think that was the final straw. He’d spoken to me that way for years, but he never should talk to anyone else like that. Never should my dancers be scared of me. Never should my set list have gotten this far off of what I wanted it to be.

I’d let things go for too long.

“I want nothing but my voice and the instruments for the second half of the concert. The dancers flow in the background with the music, and I’ll be changing my wardrobe and the songs.”

“Keelani,” Frankie started softly, like he was going to try to accommodate me. “Let’s think about this—”

Suddenly, I didn’t want to be accommodating or compromise. He was going to listen to me. “Pull the lights back. I want to perform the songs we’ve been working on, but only with violins and piano. I can play my guitar if—”

“We don’t have time for this.” He stood up and huffed, his blue eyes narrowing on me. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Why would I be?” I lifted my chin and took a deep breath because I knew I was about to really piss him off.

His bright white veneers clenched together. “We’re not showcasing your voice here. We need to entertain these people.”

“I’m aware.” I felt the anger building, the frustration, the lack of confidence in me that propelled me to prove them wrong.

“It’s not happening.” He rolled his buggy eyes and pointed to the dancers. “Let’s take it from the top.”

I turned to my dancers and saw them all listening to him, listening to a man who never asked my opinion as the headliner, didn’t bother to greet anyone when he walked in, and wasn’t on stage with them ever. The energy in me was building. “No.” I said it softly first and then let the words escape from my lips loudly. “No. That’s not how I want to do my show.”

“I’m sorry. What?” His question was full of surprise but also anger as his eyes widened to double their size.