Page 101 of The Sound Between Us

“I’m serious,” I say, softer now. “If this song goes anywhere... it has to mean something.”

Mark nods. “We’ll protect it.”

I believe him.

But I still walk out, leaving them with the track and the silence and the knowledge that—for the first time in years—I wrote something real.

Outside, LA keeps performing its endless act. The sun shines. The palm trees sway. Everything pretending to be perfect.

But all I can think about is her—probably already booking a flight back to London, or at least trying to.

The tour starts in two days. The machine rolls on.

Maybe what we had was a dream. But the song proves it was real.

Real enough to wreck me.

And I’ve written the best thing of my life with the worst part of my heart.

Some victories, I’m learning, taste exactly like defeat.