Following Me(43)

After Brennan finished his adjustments, he leaned forward toward the microphone. “Good evening. I’m Brennan Walker. A couple of you out there might have seen me up here before. I’m sure a few of you booed me off stage the first time I tried this. Thanks for coming back and giving me another shot.”

The crowd chuckled. That was a good sign. Devon found herself rooting for him.

“For those of you who are new to the open mic routine, you picked a damn good night to be in the house. I’m playing a selection of original tunes, and I hope you like them. This first one is titled ‘Headstrong.’”

Devon wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but whatever it was could never compare to this. She knew music. She had grown up around music, dated musicians, and listened to every genre imaginable. Her heart craved music. And that was exactly what she was getting tonight.

Brennan’s voice wasn’t the best out there. He wasn’t a master on the guitar. He didn’t have the stage presence of the artists she had encountered at home. But he had a certain quality about him that seemed superior to all of that. It was like when she had tried to tease apart her feelings toward him, and all she had discovered was that she couldn’t. That was what his music was like. It was more an emotion than anything, like the way she felt when she got butterflies in her stomach, or when she rode a roller coaster, or when she caught the first glimpse of the horizon across the ocean. It was all and none of those things.

And maybe she was the only one in the room feeling that. But wasn’t that what made art so beautiful in the first place? She could stand in one place and experience the same thing as a hundred other people, and everyone would come out of it with something different. She felt like she was soaring, and the world was flying beneath her feet. Brennan’s smooth voice was music to her ears, and music brought her home.

When the song ended, Devon realized her eyes were closed, and she slowly opened them. As her vision adjusted to the dim lighting, she focused down on Brennan.

What are you doing to me? she wondered.

The crowd cheered, and Devon followed, clapping her hands hard.

“He’s good, right?” Garrett leaned over, so Devon could hear him.

“Yeah! Wow!” she said, wearing the biggest smile on her face since she had been in Chicago.

“You should have come to his last performance. The audience gave him a standing ovation at the end. I don’t know what it is about the guy, but everyone goes nuts for his music. Hadley even cried at the end of his last show, and he only played for like fifteen minutes,” Garrett told her.

“He’s good. I should know,” she said with a laugh. “I know music.”

“You should pitch him to the people you know,” Garrett suggested.

Devon wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know people, except for my parents.”

“I’m sure you can think of someone,” Garrett prodded. “His music made you smile brighter than you have since you got here. Anything that can put that pretty smile on your face should be playing on the radio.”

Devon blushed at his words. “Thanks,” she said, staring back down at Brennan.

She probably did know someone. Most of her contacts were with country music, and he clearly didn’t sing country. In any case, she could likely get him an in…if that was what he wanted. It would be something worth thinking about…maybe.

Before she could think about it any further, he started the next song. The next two were ones that Garrett knew from previous shows. He told her that Brennan normally added a couple originals in here and there among the covers he did. Garrett had never been to a gig where Brennan did all originals. Devon couldn’t imagine the show any other way. No one else’s music would have felt right.

As Brennan’s short set drew to a close, Devon found she didn’t want it to end. How could it be so close to being over already? It felt like he had just started.

“I want to thank you all again for coming out. This is my last song for the night, and it’s kind of personal to me. It’s about loss, pain, and silence…about how hope blossoms in the smallest of packages and in the least likely of circumstances. This one is titled ‘Moving Forward’,” he said into the microphone, his eyes seemingly finding her in the crowd.

As he played the first few chords, his eyes never strayed from her. She wasn’t even close to the stage, but he seemed to know right where she was. Amy and Hannah sighed heavily next to her.

As soon as the lyrics started flowing from his mouth, Devon could tell the song was different from the others…more personal. She hadn’t thought it possible, but this song was better suited to him than the others. He couldn’t have described the lyrics any better than in his introduction.

She felt like her heart was breaking as he sang about a loss she could understand. She felt a stabbing sensation in her body as she experienced his pain. The words made her feel like she wasn’t alone with the dreaded silence from which she suffered. And finally, she could feel her heart being stitched together. The needle wasn’t gentle, and the thread would heal the wounds in time, but there was hope that the scars would heal.

When the song came to a close, Devon felt tears welling in her eyes. The song was painful. It actually caused her physical discomfort to even hear it, but that made it even better. People who had ever willed themselves to silence needed the hope from Brennan’s song. Maybe it would help mend their hearts, too.