Rhythm by Marie Lipscomb

Chapter Twenty

Beth

Her heart freezes. The haze of the wine snaps away, and everything is pulled into sharp focus as he steps forward.

B.B.

It could mean anything, she tells herself.

When the music starts, it’s a song she’s heard before, a melody so gut-wrenchingly beautiful, it gave her pause the first time, and damn near kills her the second. It’s the song he played for her while she painted him.

Mia stands beside him, tapping a rhythm on her thigh, before raising the microphone to her lips. “What a fool I was to think you could ever love me. A fool to think you saw me.”

Most of their other songs are about vampires and phantoms, but this is a song about something far worse than monsters. Every word Mia sings, etches into Beth’s heart, cutting her deep, and rubbing confusion into the wound.

“Beth?” Sadie bursts through the crowd, her eyes searching. She grips Beth’s arm and speaks close to her ear, but her voice sounds so distant. “Hey, come on, we should go. You don’t need to hear this.”

The crowd parts as Mia steps off the stage, lights following her as she walks around the hall, singing directly to their fans. Finn is the only one left on stage. His eyebrows crease as he plays, and a deep red blush blooms across his cheeks. When the song reaches its chorus, Mia may as well be singing directly to Beth.

“What made you grow so cold?

I held you all night through the worst of the storm.

Did it mean nothing to you? Love forgone.

My fool heart still longs to see your face.

But I’m ashamed. So afraid,

I was only good to keep you warm.”

Through it all, Beth can’t take her eyes from Finn. When he played for her that night, there were moments of intensity, brief scowls which creased his forehead, stitching together his eyebrows. But the man standing on stage looks as though he wears his frown constantly. If she didn’t know better, she’d wonder if he had ever smiled. He looks…miserable. Broken.

“Beth?” Sadie tugs at her arm. “Come on, you’re right, this was a mistake.”

Beth can’t move. It’s clear his heart is broken, and she has no idea why. Was it something she did, something she said? “I think every person in here hates me right now.”

“No, sweetie they don’t, honestly. It’s just a song. They don’t know who it’s about.” The pitch of Sadie’s voice raises, as she becomes frantic.

Beth can’t take her eyes from the stage as Finn plays.

Brilliant white light dazzles her, and her vision fills momentarily with the towering silhouetted shape of Mia. The vocalist stands with Beth and Sadie, reaching out a hand toward them as she belts out the song’s chorus once more.

The guitar goes silent. The song dies.

Finn stares out, his lips slowly parting as recognition flashes across his face.

The world tilts as panic rises in Beth’s chest. Finn is not the only one staring. The crowd around her know something is wrong, and they turn toward the source. Her ribs close in around her lungs, and her blood flashes hot and cold.

 

Finn

“Shit.”He sits backstage in the greenroom, raking his fingers through his hair.

In one moment, the night went from one of the best of his life, to a catastrophic disaster; a feeling he’s becoming all too familiar with. The image of Beth, surrounded by his fans, every one of them staring at her, wondering what it was about her which rendered him completely silent. No wonder she’d bolted.

Mia sits opposite him, her forearms braced on her knees as she fidgets with a bottle of water. “I didn’t know that was her. I wouldn’t have—”

“I know.” He releases a breath, trying to control the tremble in his fingers. “What does it mean though? Why was she here?”

The silence which follows tightens the knot in his chest. Mia shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

“Because she likes you,” Nic cries out in exasperation. “I told you, you heard half a phone conversation and stormed out without giving her a chance to explain.”

Finn scowls. He takes the turquoise towel from around the back of his neck, and dries the sweat on his forehead. “I know what I heard.”

“I love you, dude, but you’re a stubborn ass.” Nic sits in the seat next to him, slackening the black horsehair on the violin’s bow. “I’m telling you, you need to reach out to her, and find out exactly what happened.”

“And if she rejects me?”

“Then what difference does it make? At least you’d know. Then you move on having learned. But if all of this was for nothing, if you wrote that song about her going cold, when this whole time you’re the one who walked out on her, then shit, do you ever have some groveling to do.”

Finn stares straight ahead, his throat watertight as he picks a strand of cotton from the towel. His skin tingles with the urge to run away, hide, never show his face again. But there’s also hope. A faint, flickering ridiculous hope that Nic is right.

Of course, there’s also pure, cold dread which goes along with it.

He doesn’t know what will happen. Doesn’t know whether he’s right or wrong about Beth. The only thing that’s certain, is when he saw her in the crowd, one thousand people disappeared before his eyes. When he saw her, he—the man who lives and breathes noise—was silenced.

His eyes drift across the wall with the corkboard, to a poster for a charity art exhibition, to raise money for a community art center. The Grand Gallery. Friday. 8 p.m.

Tomorrow.

If he’s going to do something, he needs to figure out what, and soon.

He draws a deep breath, laces his fingers on top of his head and exhales. “Ah, fuck.”