gainst the Austin night. This was it, our 10th annive

d a familiar, low-level anxiety. Ten years I' d waited for this. Ten ye

our friends cheering, and his eyes found mine. He gave me a small, tight smile, one I knew all too w

shifting instantly from detached musician to panicked. He didn't e

ice a harsh whisper as he passe

always had an "emergency" when he wa

My voice was small, lost in the no

elle," he snapped, his eyes dartin

ike that,

wn. The chatter turned to whispers. I felt hundreds of eyes on me, a mix of pity an

notification from Instag

cture of him and Molly. Her head was on his sho

ion dest

imes the most beautiful songs

my face. All the air left my lungs. The whispers arou

st again, at their smiling faces, at the tiny black-

nge sense of calm

the heart icon.

my contacts and call

"It's Gabrielle Fuller. I need you to sta