“She thought it sounded more professional.”
Ronni ignores us, only paying attention to her phone.
“And we’re back,” Matt says. “Brianna, that was a powerful song. How do you and Crew come up with the lyrics?”
“It’s different for every song. Sometimes it’s based on an experience we’ve had, sometimes it’s drawn from a feeling. Maybe we saw or heard something, and it inspired us. Crew once wrote a song about helping a turtle. I wrote one about my brother, who’s a firefighter. Sometimes Liam gives us music, and we write whatever comes to mind when we listen to it.”
“Interesting. Liam, as the composer, you give them the music and they write lyrics for it?”
“Sometimes. It works both ways, like Bria said.”
“Composing music must be hard. How do you think up new songs that aren’t the same old notes over and over?”
“It’s funny you say that, Matt, because music is essentially made up of very few fundamental sounds. There are seven main musical notes in the chromatic scale, twelve musical scales, four octaves on a guitar, and seven on a piano. If you change the pitch of a note, you can alter the entire melody. The possibilities are endless.”
“I’ve often wondered how musicians keep coming up with different melodies.”
“Think of all the books in the world. There are only twenty-six letters in the alphabet, yet libraries are full of stories that have been created by combining those letters. By the same token, there are only three primary colors, but mixed together in different proportions, you can make millions of others.”
Matt falls silent for a beat. “Well, damn. I’m not sure anyone has ever explained it to me that way. You got a PhD or something?”
“My higher education comes from life.”
“And what about your inspiration? Where does that come from?”
Liam catches my eye. Our gazes lock. I bite my lower lip. “Different places, I guess. Glitter, a sidewalk, a hospital gown.”
My cheeks heat.
Ronni peers at me suspiciously when she sees the way he’s gazing at me. I turn away.
“Those are unusual muses,” Matt says.
“Indeed they are.”
Matt moves on to the others, who talk about their tour of Florida and where they’ll be playing. Liam keeps looking at me and smiling. I think about what he said about music, books, and colors. It’s very introspective. It’s like I’m seeing a whole other side to him that’s as endearing as it is intriguing.
The interview ends, and Matt shakes hands with them before they join us.
Ronni pulls Matt aside and gives him a piece of her mind.
“This is media, Ms. Collins. We’re here to push the envelope. Seek the truth. I hardly think you’d have gotten where you are without knowing that.”
In usual fashion, she walks off in a tizzy. “God, I can’t wait to get back to New York.”
~ ~ ~
After enjoying dinner with the band, I wash my jogging bra and shorts, hoping they’ll dry by morning. Liam was right; I probably should have brought more clothes with me. I might be doing laundry every other day.
I get comfortable in my sleeping shorts and tank top, and sit at my art desk. I try to come up with a different version of Jimmy, but I can’t. Every kid I draw looks like Liam. After today’s interview, I can’t get him out of my head. I finally give in and move forward, pulling out the first manuscript and sketching a few ideas for Jimmy and Jojo’s trip to the park.
I’ll send the author weekly pictures of my progress, and she will tell me if she thinks I’m going in the right direction. Maybe she’ll hate the eight-year-old Liam lookalike and make me change it, but I suspect she’ll love it.
An hour later, I can hardly keep my eyes open. I put my things away and crawl into bed, dreaming about the adult version of Jimmy.
A knock on the door pulls me from sleep. I glance at the clock. It’s after midnight. I get out of bed and stomp to the door, thinking maybe I had him pegged all wrong. He’s here for a late-night booty call, isn’t he?
I rip open the door, ready to tear him a new one, and see a surprised Ronni in the hallway. She’s wearing a hotel bathrobe.
She examines the number on the wall next to the door. “This is 412, right?”
“Yes.”
She pushes past me. “Why are you in Liam’s room? Where is he?” She turns on the light and peeks inside the empty bathroom.
What the hell? “He’s not here.”
“Did he go