Spotlight by Eden Finley Page 0,44

like my family for a long time, and although we’ve lost touch, if any of them turned up on my doorstep and asked for help, I’d give it to them no questions asked. If it weren’t for Kaylee, I’d jump at Harley’s offer to get Eleven back together.

“You cowrote this,” Lyric says, still in disbelief.

“Yup. I’m deeper than you think.”

“That’s what he said.”

I walked right into that one.

Lyric shakes his head. “No way am I showing you my originals.”

“Nice try. You’re not getting out of it.”

“Okay, but can I just say, I respect the hell out of you. I was wrong when I thought the image your label manufactured was the true you, and I think you’re an amazing musician.”

“Aww, flattery will make me so much nicer when I tear your song apart.”

Lyric breathes deep.

I laugh. “You don’t need to worry. Unless you don’t want to hear constructive criticism. Then we might have issues.”

“I’m good with criticism. Though if you call me lazy and cliché, I’ll show you how much of a double standard I have.”

“Hey, at least you were being honest, but no more stalling.” I get one of my guitars from the studio and hand it to him. “Song. Go.”

Lyric clears his throat and starts playing a melody on the guitar. He refuses to look at me as he strums and sings words that are so … Lyric. I try to keep my face emotionless as he plays through his song in case he looks up at me and gets disheartened because I’m pulling the look I want to. It’s not exactly a positive one.

Lyric has this amazing talent, but he’s so focused on sticking it to the man, he’s not seeing the potential of what he could be.

Maybe I’m giving off that vibe because he stops halfway through. “You hate it.”

“I don’t hate it. At all. It’s a very you song.”

“Meaning no one’s gonna pick it up?”

“You hate labels so much you’re singing directly about them. The public won’t resonate with that. But what if you take those feelings and write them into a breakup song? Love is something people always want to hear about.”

“A love song? Eww.”

“Do you know ‘Love Song’ by Sara Bareilles is actually a hate song to her label? So is ‘Harder to Breathe’ by Maroon 5. They take their hatred for the system and write it into a song about love and heartbreak and frustration.”

“So you’re saying—”

“I’m saying tell them to fuck off in a subtler way.” I grab a pen and paper. “What was that first line again?”

“The perfect sound …”

“And then the next one is about image, right? So, the song is clearly about not being good enough or the perception of not being good enough. If we put that in the context of a relationship, what do people want? Are we pronoun-ing this? Are you going to be an out artist right off the bat knowing it could affect debut album sales?”

Lyric looks at me like he’s wondering if I actually asked that.

“Okay, okay. Just checking. So something like about being the wrong type of guy. Someone he won’t bring home to momma.”

Lyric bites his bottom lip. “Are parents really still like that? I mean, my mom didn’t even blink when I told her I was gay. When I told her I was going to be a musician on the other hand … If she had assets instead of a mountain of debt, I think I would’ve been removed from the will that day.”

I avert my gaze. “Trust me when I say there are definitely parents out there like that. Unfortunately.”

“I think the only time my mother would hate someone I’m dating is if he was a musician.”

“Guess I’m out, then,” I joke. Though, it’s not really a joke. “Lucky we decided the whole kissing thing was a bad idea.”

“Ooh.” Lyric takes the pen and paper from me and scribbles something down.

Kissing you was a bad idea.

I’m not your right type of guy.

You spend your days making music

I spend mine getting high.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Do you, really?”

“I’m high right now.” Then his face falls when he sees I’m not amused. “Dude, it’s a joke. Hardly drink and I say no to drugs, remember? I couldn’t think of anything else that rhymes with guy.”

“We’ll work on it.”

And it’s surprising how easily Lyric and I work together. For the next few hours, we fill our time writing out words and putting them to Lyric’s melody. While he jokes