________________________________________________________________________
I don't feel anything anymore.
Just regret.
I don't say much anymore.
Just 'no.'
I don't sing anymore.
Ever.
_________________________________________________________________________
Nick
When we stumbled upon the unfinished demos in the studio, we couldn't quite believe what we were hearing.
A voice so pure and mature sounding, we were shocked to find out this beautiful voice belonged to a fifteen year old girl.
Whoever she was, she hadn't been discovered yet. Myself, and my whole family were determined to find her and give her a chance.
After weeks of research and tracking down, we finally found her.
Sitting at a piano, alone.
_________________________________________________________________________
Skye
My fingers traced gently along the keys of the piano. My breath was heavier than it had been in a long time.
I was desperate to play again. To open my mouth and express the emotions that I pretended I didn't have.
I can't feel anything. I don't want to feel anything. My stomach knotted itself every time I dared myself to believe I had any feelings left inside of me. It was slowly, day-by-day breaking me down.
It wouldn't be long before I cracked.
All this deep in thought made me oblivious other people had entered the vacant, silent room I'd been vegetating in for weeks.
As my hands danced along the piano's shiny black coat, I felt soft, warm fingers wrapping themselves around mine before I saw it happen.
Nothing surprises me much anymore.
My eyes jumped where my hands were. They looked strong and wore a ring on their marriage finger.
"Skye?" The voice sounded faint. Even though the person was right behind me.
"Skye Singer?"
I uncurled my fingers from their grasp and continued to wander my fingers across the piano keys, making sure I didn't make a sound.
I mumbled a grunt.
"Sorry, she doesn't communicate much anymore." A familiar trying-to-sound-perky-but-I-really-couldn't-be-fucked-with-this-girl-anymore sounding voice informed the strangers.
Then she went on about, about... Him.
She had no right telling everyone my life story. If I wanted to tell them I would, but I don't, so they shouldn't know.
I felt my face flush red hot with anger.
I hadn't felt anything like this before, I don't feel any positive emotion any longer.
Suddenly, my hand came crashing down on the lower end of the piano, sending ear splitting loud low notes echoing and bouncing off the walls.
I surprised myself.
For once.
I felt the silence surround me. I could feel their gaze fall upon me.
For the first time in months I uttered to speak more than one syllable.
"Shut. Up." My voice sounded different, hoarse and deep. Harsh and dark, as I spat out my words like venom.
The quiet felt like it lasted hours, not even the faint ringing in my ears filled up the dead air.
"We heard your demo." A soft, soothing voice broke in.
I let out a sigh. I didn't want to be reminded of that. I didn't want to have to let out another note of song again. Even though I wasn't really helping myself sitting at a fucking piano all day.
"You're incredible." Another voice said, just a smooth as the first but slightly deeper.
"We think you're amazing, and we want to help you..."
I couldn't, I DIDN'T want to hear anymore.
I slammed my fists onto the piano again.
"NO!" I screamed. "NO! NO! NO!" I felt my eyes burning, desperately wanting to pour out with tears.
But there was no way I was going to let that happen.
I sucked in a sharp breath.
"I don't want your help. I don't need anybody. I don't want anybody. Just leave me alone." My voice wasn't loud, or brash. It almost sounded broken and hurt. I regretted talking the instant my mouth opened.
I hadn't turned around to see who was talking to me. I didn't even want to know.
I felt a strong hand on my shoulder. Since I became ignorant to the majority of my senses, touch became stronger, and I knew it was the same person who'd wrapped their fingers in mine.
"I don't know how you feel, or what you're going through. But I'm sure I'd need someone to be there for me, helping me. You seem like a strong girl, but... I know I can't be one to judge. But I think right now, you need guidance, and my family and I are willing to help."
I didn't respond. I didn't feel any need to. Who does this prick think he is? Why would he ...
"Look. I don't know what's going through your mind, but whether you choose to believe it or not, you're no doubt downright incredibly talented. I don't care if you're the most stubborn person on earth, I'm going to help you find a way to make sure your talent is known. I don't have any idea what you must feel, or whether you choose to feel anything at all. But I believe you can be whatever you set your mind to. And you're worth more than you think."
I blinked. I listened to each word, and refused to believed what he was saying.
He sighed.
"You could be the start of something amazing."
I felt the warmth of his breath on my face and he bent beside me.
"I believe in you." And with those words, tears began to fall from my eyes. The reason wasn't because this person, whoever he was, was giving me a speech every upcoming and hopeful artist wants to hear.
But because those were the very last words Casper had said to me.
I bent my head, and the stupid-not-so-perky-anymore voice started to utter,
"She hasn't cried in months."
I felt the hand slip down off my shoulder, and their arms wrap around me. I felt safe. Again. I hadn't felt this protected, this cut off from the rest of the world for months. Maybe this is what I needed. To be held. All of a sudden the feeling was gone. I shook the grip he had of me and wiped the tears off my face furiously.
How dare he make me cry?
How dare he make me break down?
I'm not vulnerable. I'm NOT.
The other voice broke in,
"We want you to come on tour with us. To see if it will bring back any feelings you had. And if it doesn't we'll leave you at that..."
He paused.
I saw a toned, tanned arm shoot out in front of me.
"Deal?"
For the first time, I looked up at his face.
He had dark curly hair and his eyes brown and full of concern, but shone brightly in the lights that dimly lit the room.
I blinked up at him. Taking in his beauty. Then I noticed the two others standing a few feet behind him. Equally as gorgeous and stunning.
I looked at his hand, taking in everything he'd said.
My mind said no.
But my gut instinct and my stupid heart said otherwise.
My own hand lifted itself slowly, shaking and having its very own epileptic fit.
I reached his fingers, his gently touching mine. I curled my thumb over his. I tried to steady my hand, but I found that he had me covered. His muscly arm reached out and grasped my upper arm with his hand.
We both looked at each other. As if we both understood exactly how each other felt.
The feeling soon slipped away.
_________________________________________________________________________
Nick
She didn't seem to take in where we lead her. After we'd let go of each others hands she was back in her dream land again. Not noticing anything going on around her. What she must be going through, I can't fathom.
I wanted to help this girl, but she was so afraid of letting a single tear drop.
I watched her drift off to sleep. The bus bouncing up and down, her gorgeous brown hair spread across the seat she'd laid on.
She was beautiful. But I don't think she knew that.
The question was now, was going to accept our help?
I think we already found out, we'd have to force our help upon her.
Right now, what she needed.
Was a saviour.
