The Journalist and Her Actor

Chapter 37

Screams filled my ears, lights blinded my eyes, and cold metal burned into my palms as I clung to the guard rails and ascended the stairs to the stage in the middle of the large auditorium where thousands of people waited for me to sing with Luke, the man whose life I had destroyed.

This is going to go very very badly.

Scrambling for sanity, I sucked in a deep breath, melting into character as I heard Dustin shout action, and made my way on stage, waving towards the audience as they erupted into cheers.

The cheers surprised me. I had half expected to be burned at the stake, or be thrown into a wood chipper, or be booed while people threw rotten produce at me... But then again, everyone in this place was acting. Nothing was real. Everything was a giant illusion of niceties. 

You aren't Em Springs...

Luke stood at the front of the stage, the lights beating down on him, a lone figure surrounded by thousands of people.

You are now a famous pop star.

My heart began to hammer wildly as music began to blare behind me, the band playing the first notes of the song.

And right now, you are in love with Luke— Luke's character. So let go of everything else, all fear, guilt and shame, and sing your heart out! Show the world how your character feels and hope that Luke does the same.

Then there I was, standing next to Luke Walker, before thousands of people, our eyes meeting for the first time since everything that had happened.

He looked at me for a long moment, his eyes unreadable under the stage lights, face in shadow. And before I could try and read him, he turned away, hands clutching his microphone and diving into the song, leaving me wondering what he was feeling as he faced the audience again.

His words rang out, rich and powerful, sending the auditorium up in a frenzy as they heard his deep baritone stretch across the space.

Luke closed his eyes, lashes dark across his cheeks, the lights sending his blue black hair glistening. The muscles pulled taught across his back, his shirt hiding the tattoos that inked across his body. Veins sat prominent across his forearms, trailing up his skin in a pattern I was itching to follow.

I yanked my eyes away, trying to focus, listening to his words as I soaked in the crowds sudden silence as they listened along with me.

But even though his lyrics were geared towards me— my character, he refused to look at me, a tall, invisible, unbreakable wall now stood between us.

His verse ended and I looked out, forcing myself to grip the mic next to his as the tempo of the song changed.

Unlike Luke's lyrics, mine were fast and sharp. Where his words were tentative and gentle, mine were blunt and bold, the music changing speed to match my character's pop style. The melody matched my character, fast and spontaneous, showcasing how quick my character jumped into action and feeling. Where Luke's was slow and thoughtful.

I began to sing, the words a struggle to form in my mouth. Luke's vocals were a confession, feelings filled with hope and promise, while mine expressed uncertainty. His character was the gentle pursuer, to my wishy washy fear filled one. His character was certain where mine was filled with doubt. Which only made everything so much harder to say because the tempo and lyrics matched our actual personalities.