Graceless (Grace Notes #2)

“I’m good,” she said. “But thanks.” She picked up her book and began to read, shutting her sister out once more.

Chapter Nine

The day off from the studio had felt agonizing to Cassidy. Mooching around Savannah’s massive bright home, looking for a place to be alone, all she’d really wanted was to be back here, in the deep peace of the sound room, music roaring through her until nothing else mattered.

After Savannah had sought her out in the music room, Cassidy had retreated to her bedroom, where at least no one else would try to make small talk. She did what she’d been avoiding since the news of her sister’s gay romance had hit the tabloids, and opened her Spotify to Brynn Marshall.

It wasn’t that she was homophobic. Her closest friend at the diner where she worked was Tyrell, the only out gay person in town. She’d defended him against rumors and cruel jokes and they’d secretly gotten drunk together on cheap wine after hours on more than one occasion.

But did Savannah have to be so… visible? So out there and ostentatious about it? Had she forgotten that her family lived in a tiny, conservative town? Apparently not, because she gave interviews hinting at what savage rednecks her family were, alluding to Randy’s propensity for violence and their mother’s quest for respectability. Cassidy had felt the eyes on her all over town, sure everyone was seeing her sister kissing women in TMZ and wondering about her too.

She’d felt sure Savannah was doing it for more attention and more kudos as she distanced herself from her country music roots, her impoverished small town past and her family. And yet, as Lane pointed out, seeing Savannah and Brynn together had the effect of making her ashamed of her judgment and also, weirdly jealous. Cassidy had never seen two people more obviously in love and lust. It was super gross, but it was also clearly very real.

She’d also assumed Brynn was some kind of hanger-on, using her connection with Savannah’s star power to create a career for herself. Just two days in the studio hearing her sing was enough to put an end to that idea. Maybe Savannah had discovered her, but, Cassidy thought privately, it would have been a crime if she hadn’t.

She curled up on her bed with her headphones on and listened to the entirety of Brynn’s album, Jane, for the first time. That evening, at dinner, sitting across from the woman herself, Cassidy couldn’t stop staring at her. How? she wanted to blurt. How does that sound come out of you? How do you express pain and loss so that everyone who hears it gets their heart broken too? How do you make songs that make everyone listening feel so much less alone?

Brynn didn’t seem to notice her staring, though she involved Cassidy in her usual warmth, cracking jokes and making her son giggle, teasing Savannah and letting Lane mock her. But today, in the studio, Cassidy stared and stared, watching Brynn’s hands on the piano keys, watching her take a deep breath to refocus before stepping up to the mic, watching the emotion crease her face as she pushed into the notes she had to hold. How was she doing this?

“I don’t know,” Greta replied and Cassidy blinked, not realizing she’d spoken out loud. “Some rare people just have the magic.” She nodded toward Brynn on the other side of the glass. “The rest of us just have to work at it.”

That day at yet another hip local diner, with Brynn, Noah and Coral, Cassidy ate ravenously. She couldn’t stop feeling like there was a hole inside her that would never be filled. She felt hungry for something she couldn’t describe. She felt hungry for everything.

“You both record with Savannah as well as Brynn,” she interrupted the conversation as soon as there was a gap. “What’s that like? Are they different to work with?” She struggled to imagine her sister in the studio. Her music just seemed so fully formed and epic, it felt too hard to imagine it slowly taking shape, with Greta snapping at the superstar to sing it again, the way she did to Brynn.

Coral and Noah looked at each other.

“Well, for starters, Brynn is a way bigger prima donna.” Noah grinned, ducking as Brynn threw a fry at him.

“They’re chalk and cheese,” Coral told her. “Savannah records in the biggest damn studio rooms she can find. She likes everyone there with her. It’s loud, it’s bright, it’s collaborative, it’s like a party except that everyone better be damn serious about getting it right.”

“She and Greta butt heads more,” Noah said. “She’s not afraid of her like Brynn is.” He looked up, ready to dodge another fry, but Brynn just shrugged.

“That’s true,” she agreed. “Greta would eat me for breakfast, but Savannah’s got her own fangs and a spine of steel.” She widened her eyes at Cassidy. “It’s like gladiators in there.”

“Brynn likes more privacy,” Noah continued. “She likes these little dark cave rooms to sing in, where she feels cocooned and safe.”

Brynn rolled her eyes.

“I don’t like recording in rooms that look like operating theaters, that’s all.”

“Savannah took her into the studio for the first time and Brynn nearly died,” Coral explained with a grin. “You’ve never seen someone so pale and sweaty in all your life. She’s had a real thing about bright lights ever since.”

“No, you’ve got it all wrong,” Noah corrected. “After she nearly died, Savannah had the lights dimmed and practically made out with her to get her through the song. She’s had a thing for romantic studio lighting ever since.”

They both cackled as Brynn attempted to ignore them, eating her burger with dignity.

“Of course, sometimes it gets weird,” Coral mused. “About six months ago, they were in a fight. Noah and I would go into one studio one day with Savannah and another studio the next day with Brynn and record different sides of the same angsty coin in miserable songs.”

“You guys fight?” The words were out before Cassidy could stop her disbelief. Brynn looked at her, and Cassidy shrugged. “I mean, you just seem so sickeningly in love.”

“We had a rough patch,” Brynn said with a small grimace. “But yeah, we fight, we’re human. I mean, I’m perfect,” she shrugged, her mouth quirking, “but your sister is stubborn as hell.”

“Huh.”

“I wouldn’t change a hair on her pretty head though,” Brynn told her. “Even though she drives me crazy sometimes.”

That afternoon during their drive home, Cassidy found herself wanting to ask. She knew it wasn’t polite, but she couldn’t help craving something real and human about her sister after years of the polished public face being all she got. She blurted the words before she could stop herself.