Page 19 of Tracing Holland (The Hold Me NSB #2)

Charlotte, North Carolina

It’s going to be another brutal stretch: Charlotte, Richmond, and Baltimore.

Three stops in three days. Kenneth started hyperventilating the second we boarded the bus in Myrtle Beach, and Tess is doing her best to keep everyone else from quitting.

For my part, I’m content just lying low, trying to survive our schedule and my own twisting brain as best I can.

I exhaust myself . I can’t imagine what it’s like for other people to deal with me.

I’m on my way to catering to grab something to eat when I catch a glimpse of Jesse, Limelight’s frontman, release an angry curse at his phone before shoving it in his pocket. I change course and approach him, squinting against the mid-day sun.

“Everything ok?” I ask. Jesse seems startled, then embarrassed.

“Oh, hey, Luke. Yeah, fine.”

I smile to disarm the moment. “You seemed pretty upset at your phone,” I observe, and he grunts, running his hand through his shoulder-length hair.

He’s a good kid, extremely talented, but he makes Casey seem ancient.

I’d be surprised if he’s all of twenty-two.

It was a huge break for Jesse and the Limelight boys to book this tour with us, but it’s also a lot to absorb for your first major spotlight.

Limelight was an up-and-coming local Philly band when the Label stumbled upon them to open for our tour.

A regional phenomenon, but relatively unknown nationally.

Not anymore. I feel for the kid. I know how seductive instant success can be.

I also know how devastating. It nearly destroyed me, and I’ll admit, I’ve been secretly keeping my eye on Jesse since the tour began.

He has an epic voice for such a young kid and an enviable instinct for music, but also the same doe-eyed approach to Celebrity that almost put me in the ground. Several times.

“The Label hated my work tape,” he mutters, glaring at the pavement. “I really thought this one had something, but they don’t even want to pursue it.”

I sigh. “Yeah. Been there.”

He looks up again, surprised. “Wait, really? They’ve rejected your stuff?”

I laugh. “Um, yeah. Like, all the time.”

“Seriously? They said no to Luke Craven? No way.”

I shake my head with a grin and sit on the ledge beside him.

“Ok, well, first off, I wasn’t always Luke Craven . I used to just be Luke Craven, some dude from some band called Night Shifts Black. And second of all, yeah. They own you, man. Mind, body, and soul. Didn’t anyone warn you you were selling your soul when you signed?”

“Hell, no,” he spits, and scrapes at a crack in the sidewalk with his shoe. “I just wanted to play music. That’s all I ever wanted. I didn’t know about all this other shit.”

I nod and sigh. “Yeah, that’s all any of us wanted in the beginning.

But that’s not the way it works, unfortunately.

Every success comes with a new burden of expectations.

Each reward has a higher price. You keep going until you reach the threshold of what you can afford to pay.

” I smile. “Or at least until you can afford to pay someone else to bear the brunt of it for you.”

Jesse laughs. “Is that where you’re at?”

I smirk. “I wish.”

His smile fades as he stares off into the distance.

“It’s not what I thought. All of this,” he muses, waving his hand in front of him.

“I mean, it’s like this dream you have forever.

And then, bam, it happens, but it doesn’t even seem like it’s happening.

You just keep living the moment, surviving it.

It’s just another day, like yesterday. I thought there’d be magic or something when it happened.

Makes you wonder if it’s even real, you know? That sounds stupid.”

“No. It’s not stupid. I know exactly what you mean.

” I follow his distant stare as I consider my response.

“Look, you have to just stop and take a breath,” I continue, surprising myself with my sage tone.

He looks over at me, and I can see the respect in his gaze.

I meet it, a sudden protectiveness washing over me.

“You have to force yourself to stop each day and look around. Give yourself a chance to enjoy the reality of the moment because there are no real endings, no bookmarks for your life to guide you. It just keeps going until it’s over, and it’s up to you to pick a point in time to stop and consider where you are. ”

I pause and point at his tour bus. “See that right there? That’s all you. You made it, Jess. You made it. So stop for a second and enjoy your dream. Think about what you’d be doing if you weren’t here and be grateful you are.”

He snickers. “I’d be in prison probably.”

I grin and shrug. “Me too. But that’s what I’m saying.

You’re not. You’re here. In a few hours you’re going to be paid some serious money to do something you’d do for nothing.

Forget the rest of this crap. The music is what matters.

Forget the Label, the schedule, the press, the criticism, the reviews.

They will devour you alive if you let them.

You have to stop the avalanche each day and focus on the one truth that matters: you have the opportunity to spend your life doing what you love.

The rest is only important to the extent that it allows you to continue doing that. ”

He doesn’t respond right away, but I can see him considering my words. No one is more surprised than I am by my speech, and I had no idea how much I’d learned, how much I’d grown over the last few years until it came pouring out.

“I know you’re right. I do, it’s just so hard to have your heart shoved back at you and hear it sucks.

That someone hates something you love. It’s like people don’t think you’re real.

You’re just some idea or something, and they take pleasure in shredding you just because they can.

The worst part is, you can’t even fight back and defend yourself! ”

I sigh. Yeah. If anyone can understand that…

“The more people love you, the more others will hate you. The higher they perceive your pedestal, the more pleasure they take in knocking you down. You’ve exposed yourself, Jesse, made yourself vulnerable.

Whether you thought about what you were doing or not, it doesn’t matter.

It’s too late. By deciding to pursue your dream, you’ve opened yourself up to the good and the bad.

And you’re right. You’re no longer Jesse Everett, the kid from Philly.

You’re now a shiny object without feelings, a punching bag for hate and other people’s biases and issues.

“But, Jesse, it’ll break you if you let it.

I’m telling you, from personal experience, you cannot take your worth from what others think, good or bad, because they’re not judging you , they’re displaying themselves, their prejudices, their fears and hopes.

All you’ve done is trigger a reaction in them, and sometimes it’s beautiful, and sometimes it backfires, but that doesn’t make it a statement about who you are.

Criticism isn’t about the person who created the art, just about how your art fits into someone else’s world. ”

He closes his eyes, and I smile to myself.

I’m not sure if any of this is getting through, but I sense it is.

Jesse always seemed like a smart kid, a tough kid from the little I know about him, and I’m betting we have a lot more in common than we even realize at this point.

He’s got a story, like so many of us, and he’s clearly a warrior.

A damn talented one from what I’ve seen.

“Can I hear what you’ve got?” I ask after a long silence. It’s hilarious the way he tries to cover his shock as he glances over at me again.

“Really?”

I laugh. “Yeah, of course. Grab your guitar. Let’s see what we can do.”

“Oh my…seriously? You’re serious.”

I roll my eyes. “You want to do this or not?”

I’m onstage messing with one of my amps when I sense someone’s attention. I glance up and immediately stiffen at Holland’s crooked grin.

“Hey, stranger. Did Gary quit on you or something? Do I need to lend you my guy this time?”

I return her smile with a shy one of my own. “Nah, I’m just fooling around. I wanted to try something for a song I’m working on.”

“Oh, so intriguing! Do tell. Is it about a perplexing, super hot rocker who sucks you in with glimpses of vulnerability then acts like a total asshole?”

I stare at her in shock, then grin when she does. I laugh and look away, praying I’m not blushing as I focus back on my amp. And she’s not even done with me.

“Ok, so, I wasn’t sure how this works. Are we not supposed to talk at all now? Do we have to do the awkward silence thing the rest of the tour or what?” She lowers herself to the drum riser a few feet away. “I’m not used to blatant rejection, so I’m not exactly sure what happens next.”

I return her grin again, I can’t help it, and I’m terrified I actually am blushing now. “Um…I’m not used to acting like an ass to people I care about, so I don’t know either.”

“Ok, really? Really… ‘Cause there was definitely a stunning display of asshole expertise there.”

I laugh again and shake my head, trying to focus, but know there’s no chance of that with Holland Drake in my line of sight.

“Well, it is a learned art-form, I’m not gonna lie. I’d teach you, but I doubt you could pull it off.”

It’s her turn to snicker, and we connect with a quick glance before both looking away. I don’t know if this is awkward, but it’s not hostile, and that’s more than I ever could have hoped for after the way I acted.

“I heard you the other night. On your balcony,” she continues.

I swallow, but don’t look up. “Yeah? I figured, based on your note.”

“You got it then,” she observes.

“Yep.”

Silence. I can feel her amusement. “That’s it? ‘Yep’?”

I meet her gaze again. “Yes. Yes, I got it.”

She stares at me in disbelief, and finally grins when I do. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”