Page 85 of Sing Your Secrets
“My Dad discovered Petey at this open mic night. He was there as a busboy, but I think he signed up to read a little poetry. I guess Dad must’ve been intrigued or something, or maybe it was pity, but he just took him in like a homeless puppy. I think at the time Petey was still sleeping on random couches and even the shelter some nights. So, my dad offered him the guest room and taught him everything he knew about the craft of hip-hop.”
“You guys were shacked up?”
“Oh, no, no. My mom was wildly controlling at the time. Dad used to drink a lot, and party a lot. All he cared about was the studio, so she did her best to keep him at arm’s length…from both of us. But of course, Petey and I eventually ran into each other. We were just friends at first. But then we started working on Depth. The first few songs he wrote weren’t bad. They were just angry, cocky, and all kinds of bitter. It was shallow.”
“Really? Depth? Because I know that album inside and out, and I’d hardly call it shallow.”
“Well, that’s because you never heard the first version. I told Petey those songs weren’t him. I told him it was okay to be angry at his mom, that it was okay to be tired and frustrated that life dealt him a shit hand. I told him being sensitive and vulnerable is how you connect with people and instead of trying to be the tough guy, he should show his true colors. All that emotion he bottled up inside…that’s what he should rap about. That’s what people want to hear. But he needed a little guidance and encouragement, so…” I nod at the CD in Miles’s hand. “This is the very first copy of Depth ever. Just the raw files, it’s not mastered. It’s a reminder to myself that I was part of this. Every time Petey would get lost on a line, I’d help him fill it in. When he couldn’t figure out if he liked a melody, I’d sing it to him. I poured my soul into that album, and I’m really proud of it.”
“You kept this as a souvenir?” Miles raises one brow and I know what he’s asking.
“As a souvenir from the most passion-driven time of my life. It’s when I knew I wanted to produce music. I wanted to be part of the creation of sounds and lyrics that move people. I wanted to make music that helps people feel. Working on Depth was the most fulfilling time of my life, but when Petey and I broke up, I lost that part of me. I spiraled…”
“He hurt you?”
“Have you ever been really in love before? Like, in love to the point where when you’re apart you don’t know how to breathe?”
Miles is quiet for a moment. “I don’t…I don’t think so. Nothing that intense.”
“Petey was my first everything. First time I fell in love. I lost my virginity to him. I moved across the country and pretty much gave my mom the bird for him. I planned my whole life around being Petey’s girl. And for the first few years, we were like Bonnie and Clyde. Yin and Yang. We seemed so good together, but when he started getting a little traction with his music, he just…changed. I was home a lot, alone. He’d tour and leave me behind, insisting I needed to focus on school. I made excuses for him for a while, but eventually, he suggested we take a break. I was so angry, I moved home.
“I left thinking he’d wise up and come back for me. I left him to show him what he was missing, but he saw it as an opportunity. We were on and off for years after that. He’d declare his love for me in the morning, then break up with me by that evening and go fuck around with every woman who batted an eyelash at him. It was always technicalities. He didn’t technically cheat—the text message said we were broken up. He didn’t technically lie, he really was at his friend’s place for the first part of the night. He didn’t technically owe me any explanations—I wasn’t his wife.”
“Jesus,” Miles says with a huff. “Mind games. I just lost a little respect for him.”
“See? That’s why I hate telling this story. In the end, Petey was an awful boyfriend. But that doesn’t mean he’s not an amazing musician. A literary genius. A good friend. We’re just not good together. I finally see that, and I’m done being angry about it. I don’t want to go back to that empty place anymore.” Rolling my head, I try to release the pressure that’s building in my neck. It’s funny how a heavy conversation can physically feel heavy.
“How did you guys leave it?”
“I barreled through endless hookups after I cut Petey out of my life, trying to make him a distant memory. But when I cut Petey out, I cut a piece of myself out too. That passion-driven, creative part of me went dormant.”
Miles blinks at me then squirms a bit in his seat. “Endless?”
“Sorry, deal with it. You knew you weren’t dating a virgin.”
He looks embarrassed. “I didn’t say anything—”
“Your expression did.” I point to his forehead with a teasing smirk.
“I don’t like the idea of you with anyone but me. Is that possessive?”
“Yes. But I kind of like it. It feels nice to be wanted and claimed.” Leaning forward, I tap the tip of his nose. “But you can’t claim my past.”
“I’m here now,” he murmurs, running his hand up and down my shin.
“True, but you took your sweet time coming into the picture.” I pair my cheeky smile with a wink. “But that’s the reason. I don’t know how to explain it, but I met you and I felt a little like my real self again—the me I thought I lost. I laugh at the little jokes. I smile even when you’re not around. You make me think that happiness is easy, and I shouldn’t settle for anything less. Suddenly, I want to pursue what matters, instead of settling for what makes sense. For the first time in a really long time, when it comes to falling in love, I feel like the rewards outweigh the risks. You give me hope.”
I’m having trouble reading his expression. His hazy green eyes are locked on mine, but he’s looking right past me. It’s as though he’s seeing me in a new way. I should be more careful with my words. Just because I’m ready to fall in love again…doesn’t mean Miles is. And my baggage is a little intimidating, I’ll admit.
Miles finally breaks the silence. “You need to know two things, Reese.” He places the CD on my coffee table. “What?”
“Petey said he bought The Garage to gift to you.”
“What?”
“Yeah, he said it meant everything to you, and it was some grand gesture.” Miles’s brows are furrowed in anguish. The corners of his eyes are cinched, defensively.
“I don’t know anything about it. Maybe it’s just another misunderstanding…or another apology. But either way, he didn’t offer, I didn’t accept, and I won’t if you don’t want me to.” But I have to breathe through the flutters in my chest because The Garage—as my own? Only in the depths of my heart and mind will I admit that it’s a literal dream come true.