25. Reed

25

REED

“MY LOVE” – REED WALKER

M y heart pounds as I approach the towering doors of the Aragon Ballroom with nothing but the old acoustic guitar my mom and I split payment for during my freshman year of college. The late-afternoon sun casts a warm glow on the bustling streets of Chicago’s Uptown neighborhood.

“Excuse me,” a security guard says as I head in. “Where are you going?”

“I’m Reed Walker.” I look up at the venue’s iconic marquee, blazed with bold letters announcing the night’s lineup:

The Red Lemons with special guest Reed Walker

“Oh.” His expression changes from hard-ass to polite. “Of course. Right this way, sir.”

He opens the door, and I smile. I can’t help but feel a surge of pride at seeing my name in lights, even if I’m just the opening act. Is this what it feels like when you’re a big-deal musician? I could get used to this. Walking into this gritty music venue certainly gives me a better feeling than walking into some big ugly skyscraper, I can tell you that much.

Inside, I’m greeted by the buzz of crew members setting up equipment and the Red Lemons on stage tuning their instruments.

“Yo, Reed.” Henry bobs his head my way. “Thanks for coming.”

“You kidding? I appreciate the opportunity. I won’t let you down.”

“Everyone needs an opportunity occasionally. I’m a fan of your stuff.”

Violet steps down off the stage and gives me a hug. “We got our big break opening for someone back in the day. Now you get big and return the favor to someone else.”

I grin. “I need to get through this show first.” The Red Lemons aren’t some haughty, full-of-themselves band, which endears them to me even more. I’ll love them forever, no matter what happens with this show. “I do have a favor to ask,” I add.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It’s a special request.” I step over to whisper in Henry’s ear.

“Oh yeah?” He nods. “Love that song, even from the little rough recording you sent me. I’m absolutely down for that.”

Thankfully, the musicians who will be playing with me show up a little while later, the bassist and drummer who have spent the last twenty-four hours learning my songs to play tonight. We do a quick run-through, check sound, and then it’s time to get backstage and wait to go on.

“Nervous?” Henry asks.

“Honestly? Yeah, a bit. Not worried though.”

“That’s good. If you’re not nervous, you don’t care enough.”

“You still get nervous?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Wow.”

Henry takes a swig of his beer and grins. “And then I remember I’m Henry fucking Cooney. After that I’m not nervous anymore.”

I laugh as I peek out onto the stage through the curtain. The crowd is getting progressively louder as more and more people fill in.

I scan the crowd, looking for Luna. I suspect there’s a non-zero chance of her coming to this show, whether she knows I’m opening or not. Having exhausted every other possibility, this seems like the last shot to find her.

“She there?” Violet asks, peeking over my shoulder.

“Who are you talking about?”

“The girl you’re looking for.”

“How do you know I’m looking for a girl?”

She shakes her head. “You had insane chemistry with that girl at Railfest.”

“It was that obvious?”

She laughs and pats me on the shoulder. “Yes. And Henry told me you apparently didn’t get her name? How’d you mess that one up?”

“Long story. I’ve looked all over for her these past couple of weeks.”

“Well, here.” Violet takes a selfie of us. “I have an idea. This is one of the benefits of being social-media famous.” She pulls up a little video she took during Railfest. It’s a backstage perspective of Luna and me singing. She hovers her finger over the post button. “Before I post this, I have a question for you.”

“Okay?”

“Do you love this girl?”

“Wow. I’m not big on throwing that word around…” I think about how hard it was for me to tell Sam I loved her initially, how I’d held back my enthusiasm.

Then I ponder the epic weekend with Charlie and Luna. I think about that woman on the plane and how, years from now, it’s possible Luna will be my surfer boy. She opened me up so much. Hell . I met Luna, and now here I am opening for the Red Lemons.

It seems highly unlikely that was all a coincidence.

“You know what, Vi? I do.” She believed in me more than my own roommate, my own girlfriend. Hell, she believed in me more than I believed in myself. It could be that the only reason I was in a position to play tonight was due to the butterfly effect of hanging out with her. It’s like Luna sprinkled pixie dust on my life or something. “Regardless of what happens in the future, I love her.”

Vi gives me a hug. “Aww…that’s cute. You seem like a good guy, Reed. I’m gonna post this. Good luck.”

I watch as she types out a caption:

Reed Walker is opening for us tonight. And he’s looking for a girl with no name. Has anyone seen her? Social media, do your thing. Find this girl!

“Is that good luck with the show or the girl?” I ask.

Just then, the stage manager interrupts. “Walker. Showtime.”

With that, I step out on stage, throw my guitar strap over my shoulder, and grab the mic. Compared to Railfest, this is nothing. There are only a few hundred people, not thousands. But this is different. These are my songs I’m playing. And I’m dead sober.

“Hi. I’m Reed Walker, and it’s my pleasure to be opening for the Red Lemons. This song is called ‘Old Soul From Chicago’.”

I work through my set, and it goes pretty well. The crowd is into it. Then I get to my last song. “So, coming up next are the Red Lemons,” I announce. This gets a roar from the crowd. “They’re probably my favorite band of all time,” I say. “And I accidentally met them at Railfest in Kentucky a few weeks ago.”

“Wooo!” A hoot from the crowd.

“It was an epic concert. I met a girl, fell in love, had some epic times, and listened to some great music. It was a weekend I’ll never forget. Anyway, I haven’t seen the girl again, but I wrote this song for her. It’s called ‘My Love,’ and a special guest is going to help me out.”

Henry Cooney walks out with his guitar held high in the air, and the crowd hoots to an unbelievable volume.

Oh. This is what it’s like to be on a stage with a real rock star.

I nod to him, and he plays the opening riff after hearing it just once from my rough recording, like the seasoned star he is.

I join in, vibing, and I’m scanning the crowd for her. This is it. I know it. She’s here. It’s tough to concentrate on looking for her while playing, but I do it. I sing:

If I had every wish

That a man can dream of

If I conquered the world

And made it back home

All the money in the world

would seem so small

You can’t take it with you

When the graveyard calls

If I had every wish

I would have a kiss

From you, my love

If I traveled every ocean

Where a man can go

If I climbed the highest mountain

Where no one’s ever been before

I would fly my way back to you

If it took ten years or two

For you, my love

If I had just one wish

I would have a kiss

From you, my love

I give him a nod, and Henry takes the solo and good God, does he crush it like a young John Mayer. As he does, I think I see her in the crowd. My heart hammers like crazy. I feel like I’m seeing an apparition. Could it really be her?

I get so flustered, I forget to come back in after Henry’s guitar solo. Luckily it’s Henry Cooney, and he improvises on guitar like no one in the business. So he lets the solo rip for another go-round and catches my eye to make sure I come in this time.

I sing the last verse and let the last chord resonate.

Then I wave to the crowd. “Thanks, everyone! I’m Reed Walker. The Red Lemons are next.”

With a one-track mind, I set my guitar in the stand on stage, then hop off and jump into the crowd, practically running toward her.

When I get to her, she’s got her back to me, so I tap her on the shoulder.

She turns around and…

It’s not Luna.

I feel the blood in my body rush from my heart down to my feet.

“Hi,” the girl says, seeming surprised.

“Hi. Uh, I’m Reed.”

“I’m Greta,” she says.

I smile, but I can’t hide my disappointment. “I’m really sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

A friend of the Red Lemons hosts an afterparty in some dingy apartment that night, and it’s quite a scene. The air is thick with the scent of cigarette smoke and beer, the sounds of laughter and music blending in a cacophony of celebration.

The walls of the apartment are covered with faded punk rock posters and graffiti art, giving the space a rebellious vibe. People from all walks of life mingle in the cramped quarters, their voices raised in conversation as they trade stories and share drinks.

In one corner, a makeshift bar has been set up, with bottles of cheap whiskey and cans of beer scattered across its surface. The music blares from a beat-up stereo system, and the Red Lemons hold court in the center of the room, surrounded by a throng of adoring fans and fellow musicians from the local scene.

I step out onto the balcony for a moment to get some air and reflect on the night. I haven’t found Luna, but I’m determined to enjoy this experience for what it is. And maybe Vi’s social media post will still pan out.

I reach in the cooler for an ice cold beer, and they’ve got Red Dog. I didn’t even know they made that beer anymore. Maybe they brought it back. I crack one open, and as I’m looking out at the sky, I feel a hand on my shoulder.

It’s Violet.

Startled, I turn around. “Hey,” I say. “Need a beer or something?”

“Nah, I was actually looking for you.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Yeah. Great set tonight, especially for your first ever. Well, second if you count Kentucky.”

“Thanks.”

“I have a question for you, though.”

“Okay.”

“And I will take a drink actually. Changed my mind. What do we have?”

“Pineapple High Noon okay?” I say, scooping a cold one out of the cooler. She nods and takes it. “So what’s up?”

“I have to ask you something. Tell me the honest truth. Why do you love that girl whose name you don’t even know?”

I ponder for a moment. “I’ve thought a lot about this.”

“Oh, you have?”

“Yeah.”

I pause for a moment and examine Violet. She’s a special soul, and the world knows her story at this point. Which is what makes me feel at ease to share with her from the bottom of my heart.

“I think if you love someone, you see their hidden soul. You get a glimpse of the light they could offer the world if they revealed it. It was like she kept trying to keep her light tamped down. Like she didn’t want to be seen. But I still saw it. I saw her light. Am I talking crazy or does that make sense?”

“Makes perfect sense. Maybe she doesn’t want to be fully ‘seen?’” Violet offers. “Having gone from total obscurity to having fans, I can relate. It’s a little scary. Everything about you—it’s just out there. To me, it’s worth the sacrifice being famous—so I can make music. It’s the life I choose, but it’s not for everyone. Anyway, back to you. So, you love her because you think you see something in her?”

“Vi, I saw something so special in her.” I feel my heart welling up, expanding. “But I could tell she saw something special in me, too. She drew out some part of my soul that I hadn’t had access to before I met her. I wouldn’t have—I wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for her. But honestly that’s not the whole reason. Feels like I’m spilling my guts to you.”

“I’m genuinely curious.”

I look Vi in the eye as I sip my beer. “I just love spending time with her. I love being around her. It’s that simple.”

I blow out a loud breath.

“Damn.” Vi sips her drink and turns to the door. “What do you think about that answer, girl?”

I follow Vi’s line of sight just inside the sliding door, and I see her.

It’s the girl with no name.

She’s bathed in the dim light, a wistful smile playing on her lips. Her eyes hold a mix of emotions—surprise, curiosity, and a hint of longing. She’s wearing denim cutoff shorts and a tank top that looks like the one she was wearing the night we met.

Instantly, I feel a rush flood through me. A whirlwind of memories and unanswered questions swirling in my mind.

“She wanted me to ask you that,” Vi explains. “I’ll leave you two alone now.”

“Hey, you,” Luna says, stepping toward me, her voice carrying a note of uncertainty. “I’ve been looking for you.”

My heart skips a beat as I take in the way her eyes sparkle and her hair falls loosely around her face. In that moment, it’s just the two of us, attached by a shared history and unspoken connection.

I take her hand, my voice barely above a whisper. “You have?”

“Someone tagged me in Violet’s post, and she messaged me to convince me to come. Missed the show. But I made it here.”

“You didn’t want to come? She had to convince you?”

“No. Honestly, I never wanted to see you again.”

“Damn. Why not?”

“I felt bad about what had happened between us. I fucked up your life.”

“Fuck it up? You didn’t fuck anything up!”

“Oh?”

“So why’d you come if you didn’t want to?”

“I was resistant. But Vi sent me a video of you on stage…and I had to come find out if what you said is true.”

“And what’s that?” I ask. “I said a lot of things.” Though I know what she’s referring to.

“You love me?”

“Yeah.”

She inhales and looks up into the night sky. “Reed, I know we had a great weekend and everything but?—”

“A fucking spectacular weekend.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever, but I can’t stand the way I feel about it.”

“What do you mean?

“I actually feel bad about how much I enjoyed the weekend with you. What about your girlfriend? I feel awful. I was in the moment, and I let my emotions get the best of me. I don’t like feeling this way. I’m not about to be someone’s number two—already been down that road, and I know where it leads.”

I examine Luna. It seems like she’s trying to convince herself that we weren’t a big deal, more than she truly feels it. “Samantha and I broke up.”

“Wow. For real?”

“For real.”

She looks away. “Still. It was just one weekend.”

“Luna, you were a catalyst for something I should have done a long time ago. My ex and I were out of sync. Do you really think we had a healthy relationship? You said it yourself. Things weren’t good between us. They hadn’t been for a while. You just shined light on that.”

“Processing all this…” She brings her eyes back to mine. “But how can you just come out like that and say you love me? You don’t know anything about me. You don’t want me. I’m damaged. Trust me.”

“I know plenty about you. And I love you.”

“How do you know?”

“Hmmm... You’re right. Let me check.”

Running my hand through her hair, I finesse her firmly up against the building. With one hand on her hip and another guiding her head, I press my lips to hers. She tastes like mystery and new beginnings. I step away. “Just checked. Yes, I do. I know how I feel when I’m around you. And I want more of that. A lot more. Maybe I’m crazy.”

She stares at me for a few moments, then looks away.

“Luna, look me in the eye and tell me you don’t feel the same.”

Her eyes start to water over. “I’m not an easy person to love. I’m fucked up, Reed! You know how I am! I still have nightmares. Bad dreams. I can’t get over them.”

I hold Luna by her shoulders and cock my head a little, looking her over. “That’s okay. You’ll get over them.”

“Yes. You will. And if not? That’s okay too. Look at me.”

She steadies her dark eyes until they’re fixed on mine. “You’re going to be fine, Luna. You know it. You’re the most resilient person I’ve known. And you’re my favorite person to be around.”

“Reed…” she mutters.

I wrap my arms around her waist, press her into the balcony, and kiss her again. The cool night breeze is a contrast to her blazing hot lips. I run my hand under her tank top and touch her flesh. Her skin feels hot to the touch.

We make out on the balcony for a while, then sit down to catch up on the past couple of weeks: Dunn and Wendy’s baby. The breakup. The show. Looking everywhere for her.

She catches me up on her life. Putting in her two weeks at her bar. Researching new places to live. Avoiding all the places she usually goes, and thinking about where to start over.

“I admit I really liked you, but I don’t get involved with guys like you.”

“What do you mean, ‘guys like me?’”

“Guys with girlfriends. And now, also, an ascending rock star. You have red flag written all over you, Reed.” A smile tugs at her lips. “I have to admit. Seeing you on stage was damn sexy, though.”

“Guess I know what I’m dressing up as for halloween next year: a human red flag. Also, the ascending rock star thing is kind of your fault.”

“My fault?!”

“You’re the one who taught me to believe in myself. And I think you sprinkled magic fairy dust on me during that full moon trip.”

She laughs and runs her hand over my cheek. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I’m just happy you hadn’t left town.”

“I was about to. You barely caught me.”

“Guess it was fate. Speaking of leaving, you want to get out of here?”

“And go where?” she asks.

“My place.”

She nods. “Yes. Let’s go.”