Read Online Mirrored (Follow Your Bliss series Book 4) by Deirdre Riordan Hall - Free Book Online
Authors: Deirdre Riordan Hall
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encouragingly as a chord rang out, piercing the uncertainty on her
face.
She eyed a row of Fenders and picked one he didn’t recognize.
She strapped up and plugged in. The next hours ignited in a fury of lead guitar
parts, solos, clashing chords, and harmonies. After an impassioned roar of
feedback, Alex clutched her by the shoulders and kissed her hard, realizing
exactly why Finn had a problem with her, he was jealous, not because Brighton
absorbed the better amount of his attention whether they were together or
apart, but because she rocked harder than anyone he knew.
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning, Alex remarked that even if the
photographers followed them to Glasgow proper, he wouldn’t hide or be fearful
in his own city.
The pair strolled hand in hand down the sidewalk, still damp
from the rain the night before. “I think we may see some sun today.” They
passed shops and cafes and then turned down another street. “Remember when we
were visiting the Hearst Castle and you asked, ‘Where do you live?’ What I
think you meant to ask was where I call home. That was last summer’s quest,
right?”
Brighton nodded.
“I’ve thought a lot about it, and I’m not into narrowly
defining things. Most things anyway. I can’t live in a black and white world
when it comes to who I am or defining home for that matter. It has variances
and texture, sounds and smells, and is a place to sleep deeply or hunch over,
in the midnight glow of a lamp, because the words won’t stop flowing, and I
can’t get them down quickly enough. But it’s also people and music and the road
between here and there.”
They’d stopped on the sidewalk in front of a café bordered by
bistro tables and customers with small dogs. Brighton looked at Alex intently
as if he was about to reveal the secrets of alchemy, turning dust to gold in
words that radiated H-O-M-E.
“This café, I wrote the better part of our first album in
there. See that teapot? Track three. A part of me dwelled at table nine for a
time. Then down here, is the flat where Graham and I lived, Finn and Albert too
most nights. We had to piss in the sink or bathtub because the plumbing was
faulty.”
Brighton looked alarmed.
“Don’t ask. But that was home for a time. And then down that
road there,” he said, pointing, “we played dozens of shows at the various
clubs. All of these places helped shape who I am, but almost more so the
atmosphere, the hanging clouds, the scowling commuters, the endless pots of
coffee and tea. And beer. And…friends and family. My dad’s house, the music
room. And you. It’s all home, a place to spring from and a place to return.”
They’d reached an iron and stone fence outlining a park.
Strolling hand in hand, they went in, the trees muting the city noises and
whirring traffic.
Brighton cleared her throat. “For so long I was trying to
make one place home; prerequisite it be a building with four walls, but I
understand what you mean. Home is a place and a feeling. I see now it’s also
something that I help shape, investing my energy, whether creative or dull,
inspired or tired, into building it for myself.” She hesitated and then added,
“For us.”
Alex grinned, not only glad that she understood, but that she’d
unfolded his words, cut out the ones that worked for her and pasted them back
together, adding her own sensibility. And that he fit into her meaning
of home. “I love you Brighton,” he said, pulling her in for a kiss while the
warblers, sparrows, and swallows sung in the trees above.
“Bollocks,” Alex said, blinking open his eyes to see a dark
lens across the path. “Come on.” He took Brighton by the hand and led her out
of the park.
“It’s eerie. I preferred the fans. At least their intentions
were clear,” Brighton said, scowling.
“Yeah,” Alex answered shortly. He’d figured out why Finn was
bent on jealousy, but couldn’t pinpoint how the photographers, and possibly
Suzie,
face.
She eyed a row of Fenders and picked one he didn’t recognize.
She strapped up and plugged in. The next hours ignited in a fury of lead guitar
parts, solos, clashing chords, and harmonies. After an impassioned roar of
feedback, Alex clutched her by the shoulders and kissed her hard, realizing
exactly why Finn had a problem with her, he was jealous, not because Brighton
absorbed the better amount of his attention whether they were together or
apart, but because she rocked harder than anyone he knew.
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning, Alex remarked that even if the
photographers followed them to Glasgow proper, he wouldn’t hide or be fearful
in his own city.
The pair strolled hand in hand down the sidewalk, still damp
from the rain the night before. “I think we may see some sun today.” They
passed shops and cafes and then turned down another street. “Remember when we
were visiting the Hearst Castle and you asked, ‘Where do you live?’ What I
think you meant to ask was where I call home. That was last summer’s quest,
right?”
Brighton nodded.
“I’ve thought a lot about it, and I’m not into narrowly
defining things. Most things anyway. I can’t live in a black and white world
when it comes to who I am or defining home for that matter. It has variances
and texture, sounds and smells, and is a place to sleep deeply or hunch over,
in the midnight glow of a lamp, because the words won’t stop flowing, and I
can’t get them down quickly enough. But it’s also people and music and the road
between here and there.”
They’d stopped on the sidewalk in front of a café bordered by
bistro tables and customers with small dogs. Brighton looked at Alex intently
as if he was about to reveal the secrets of alchemy, turning dust to gold in
words that radiated H-O-M-E.
“This café, I wrote the better part of our first album in
there. See that teapot? Track three. A part of me dwelled at table nine for a
time. Then down here, is the flat where Graham and I lived, Finn and Albert too
most nights. We had to piss in the sink or bathtub because the plumbing was
faulty.”
Brighton looked alarmed.
“Don’t ask. But that was home for a time. And then down that
road there,” he said, pointing, “we played dozens of shows at the various
clubs. All of these places helped shape who I am, but almost more so the
atmosphere, the hanging clouds, the scowling commuters, the endless pots of
coffee and tea. And beer. And…friends and family. My dad’s house, the music
room. And you. It’s all home, a place to spring from and a place to return.”
They’d reached an iron and stone fence outlining a park.
Strolling hand in hand, they went in, the trees muting the city noises and
whirring traffic.
Brighton cleared her throat. “For so long I was trying to
make one place home; prerequisite it be a building with four walls, but I
understand what you mean. Home is a place and a feeling. I see now it’s also
something that I help shape, investing my energy, whether creative or dull,
inspired or tired, into building it for myself.” She hesitated and then added,
“For us.”
Alex grinned, not only glad that she understood, but that she’d
unfolded his words, cut out the ones that worked for her and pasted them back
together, adding her own sensibility. And that he fit into her meaning
of home. “I love you Brighton,” he said, pulling her in for a kiss while the
warblers, sparrows, and swallows sung in the trees above.
“Bollocks,” Alex said, blinking open his eyes to see a dark
lens across the path. “Come on.” He took Brighton by the hand and led her out
of the park.
“It’s eerie. I preferred the fans. At least their intentions
were clear,” Brighton said, scowling.
“Yeah,” Alex answered shortly. He’d figured out why Finn was
bent on jealousy, but couldn’t pinpoint how the photographers, and possibly
Suzie,
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