The Rocker's Muse

Tristan shook his head. “I don’t have an answer, beautiful. But perhaps someone’s purpose is not to achieve anything grand in life, but rather to touch the people around them. To leave an impression on this Earth. Some people change you just by having known them. I know that’s kind of woo-woo and I sound like Ronan right now, but I have to think like that to accept tragedy.”

“Have you ever lost someone?” I asked.

“You mean to death?”

“Yeah.”

“No. So I probably have no right even talking about this shit. You’re so much stronger than I am after what you’ve been through. You’re so freaking young, but you’ve experienced much more.”

“I’m not that young.”

“Too young to be messing around with a nearly washed-up musician who’s fifteen years older.”

“You’re far from washed up. And you sounded amazing tonight, by the way.”

“See? I wasn’t even gonna ask, because I didn’t want you to think that’s why I called you, because it isn’t. But thank you for letting me know.”

“You need to rest your voice more often. It does you good.”

Tristan leaned back against the headboard and smirked. “Is that your excuse to leave?”

“I’m not in any rush,” I admitted.

“Good, because I’m nowhere done with you.”

“In what way?” I swallowed.

“Not done asking questions.” He winked. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Applewood.”

I tilted my head. “What else do you want to know?”

“What’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done?” he asked.

Agreeing to come on this tour. I chose the second scariest thing.

“Probably facing Henry’s kids after the…accident. Knowing they hated me for causing his death but looking them in the eyes anyway and apologizing for what happened.”

“I can’t imagine how tough that was,” he said softly.

“There wasn’t anything I could say that would make them feel better, so I didn’t try. And sorry didn’t seem to cut it. It was just one meeting, initiated by me so I could sleep better at night. But it was a horrible experience.”

“You didn’t owe them an apology, given the circumstances.”

“I felt I did, even though what happened wasn’t intentional.” Starting to sweat, I needed to take the attention off of me. “My turn to ask a question.”

“Go ahead. Ask me anything.”

“Have you ever been in love?” My heart rose to my mouth as I awaited his answer.

“Once, yeah.”

“When?”

“Back when I was sixteen. Right before I left Iowa for California.”

“What was her name?”

His lips parted slightly. “Cheyenne.”