The Rocker's Muse

“How old were you when you left home?”

“I moved to L.A. at sixteen. Whenever something difficult happens in my life, I throw myself into music. I was writing lyrics from a very young age. Taught myself how to play guitar at, like, thirteen. The time when my parents got divorced was ironically the time that everything started happening for me. I eventually found a talent manager. But he was California-based and wanted me out there, which is why I moved.”

“How did you manage moving away from home at that age?”

“My mom moved with me.”

“Ah, I didn’t know that.”

I chuckled. “I don’t know if that would’ve happened if my parents had still been married. My father had firm roots in Iowa and wouldn’t have been okay with just leaving.”

“Where are your parents now?”

“They’re both back in Spirit Lake, the town where I grew up. When my career took off, and I was old enough to be on my own, my mother moved back home. My dad ended up having two more kids with his new wife. So I have a half-brother and half-sister.”

“Are you close with them?”

“I wish I could tell you yes. We’re cordial, but not too close. That’s partially because they were so young when I left home. I never really got a chance to know them. I visit them at holidays and stuff.”

“Wow. You really left everything behind, then.”

Everything.

And everything at that time had a name.

Cheyenne.

Thoughts of her invaded my mind. Back then, she was the one thing I’d left behind that mattered, the only thing I knew I’d miss.

Cheyenne would most definitely be a story for another day. But Emily wasn’t the only one who had regrets about their first love.

CHAPTER 13

EMILY

My phone rang while I was out running an errand during our stop in St. Louis.

When I saw it was my friend Leah from home, I picked up.

“The hiccup heard around the world…” were the first words out of her mouth.

“Where did you see that?” I asked.

“Are you kidding? It’s all over the Internet.”

Great. I’d been so busy that I hadn’t gone online much lately. But I should’ve known someone had captured that and posted it.

“I can’t believe he called you to the stage. That’s so cool.”

“Actually, I wish he hadn’t.”

“I would die if that man so much as walked by me, let alone brought me up onstage with him. I mean, I’m not Stacia with her freaking jar of hair, but Jesus…”

“I’m not starstruck when it comes to him.” Only mildly obsessed. I cleared my throat. “Tristan and I have actually gotten to know each other.”

“Are you serious? I guess I assumed you didn’t have that much contact with the band. You’ve been holding out on me.”

Not wanting to get into it, I downplayed things. “There’s not much to tell. The nature of my job means I interact with him from time to time. We’ve talked a bit. That’s all.”