Page 23 of Giving Chase

I shake my head. "No, it's perfect. It's... it's part of our story, you know? The good and the bad."

They both nod, understanding.

"Okay," Mark says, "so we've gotOff the RecordandBurning Bridges.What about the last one?"

I think for a moment, then a slow smile spreads across my face. "What aboutWhispered Truths?"

Will's eyes widen, a knowing look passing between him and Mark. "Seriously? You want to do that one?"

I nod, my heart racing a little. "Yeah, I do. It was a big hit, and the fans love it. Plus..." I trail off, not sure how to put it into words.

"Plus, it's about Eliza," Mark finishes softly.

I nod again, not trusting my voice.Whispered Truthshad been our closing song for years, a power ballad that always brought the house down. What the fans didn't know was that I'd written it for Eliza, pouring all my complicated feelings for her into every line. Fuck, in truth –everysong was for her in some way.

"You think she knows?" Will asks, his voice gentle.

I shrug, trying for nonchalance and probably failing miserably. "I don't know. Maybe. We never really talked about it."

There's a moment of silence as we all remember those days - the tension, the unspoken feelings, the way Eliza would watch from the wings every time we performed that song, her expression unreadable.

"I think it's perfect," Mark says finally. "It showcases a different side of our sound, and it was a fan favorite. Plus..." hegrins, lightening the mood, "it'll give the ladies in the audience something to swoon over."

I roll my eyes, but I'm grateful for the break in tension. "Alright, alright. So we're agreed?Off the Record,Burning Bridges,andWhispered Truths?"

Will and Mark nod, and just like that, it's decided.

"Well then," Will says, strumming the opening chords ofWhispered Truths,"shall we run through them? For old times' sake?"

As we start to play, the familiar melodies washing over me, I feel something stir in my chest. This - the music, the brotherhood - this has always been my constant. Through the highs and lows, the addiction and recovery, the love and loss, the music has always been there.

And as we launch intoWhispered Truths,I can't help but think of Eliza. I wonder if she'll understand the significance when we play it at the ceremony. If she'll remember all those nights, all those unspoken words between us.

"You know," Will says during a break, "we should probably run this set list by Eliza. Make sure she's cool with it for the induction speech and all."

I nod, trying to ignore the way my heart races at the thought of discussing this particular song choice with Eliza. "Yeah, you're right. I'll give her a call tomorrow."

As we dive back into the music, I can't help but feel like we're not just rehearsing for a performance. We're opening a door to something new, something that bridges our past and our future.

I guess I'll find out soon enough where that door leads.

Run

ELIZA

The steady clickof my Louboutin boots echoes through the halls of Blackmore Records, a rhythm as familiar as any hit single we've produced. It's barely 8 AM, but my mind is already a cacophony of tasks: Hall of Fame logistics, contract negotiations for Lila Rose (our newest indie-pop sensation), and the never-ending battle with my inbox.

And underneath it all, a persistent bassline of thoughts about Chase and our dinner.

I'm so engrossed in mental calculations about Lila's streaming projections that I nearly collide with Michelle as I round the corner.

"Woah there, boss lady," she laughs, steadying me with a hand on my arm. "You know, if you keep avoiding me, I might start to take it personally."

I wince, guilt flashing through me. I have been avoiding her, haven't I? "Sorry, Michelle. I've just been..."

"Busy?" she finishes, raising an eyebrow. "Too busy to tell your best friend how that dinner went? The dinner you've been stressing about for days?"

I sigh, ushering her into my office and closing the door. The familiar scent of her jasmine perfume follows us in, a reminder of countless late-night strategy sessions and confidential chats. "It's not that I didn't want to tell you. It's just..."