Prologue

Present Day

Aspen

"I'll finish up if you want to go early," I offered as I wiped down the bar top. It had been a long night, and my coworker, Lisa, had worked a double.

"Really?" She smiled. "You're the best." She tossed the rag she was holding into the soapy water behind her and reached for her purse. "I owe you one." She waved to me as she slipped through the kitchen toward the back door.

I paused for a moment before going over to the front door and locking it. It was late, and patrons usually didn't try to come in after closing, but I was also there alone and didn't want to invite trouble in. I glanced around the bar. There wasn't much left to do. I'd cleaned the glasses and wiped down all the bottles. The chairs were up, and all the neon was turned off. I made one more pass over the bar before tossing my rag and draining the water from the sink. I removed my apron, my tips jingling in the pocket as evidence of a good night, and rolled my head from side to side, stretching my neck in the process. I reached for the light switch and paused as my eyes landed on the keyboard in the corner. We'd had live music tonight. It was a local band, and they were playing tomorrow too. They'd asked if they could leave the keyboard. My boss had shrugged it off, so they pushed it against the wall out of the way and left a few hours ago.

I pressed my lips together in thought. My hands ached when I thought about touching those keys. Something inside me knew though, and the pull to the instrument was undeniable. My feet shuffled across the floor, and before I knew it, I was sitting on the small bench. I stared, unsure of what I was thinking. My fingers flexed as I held my hands above the keys. I hit the power button, turning the keyboard on, and closed my eyes. My hands settled over the keys. It was like muscle memory. My fingers began to dance, slow at first, but it's like riding a bike. You don't forget. I got lost for a moment in my head as the music poured out and my mind started to remember. It remembered what music meant to me, and how hard it was when I let it go. My heart squeezed in my chest, the pain I'd been hiding rushing to the forefront, and the tears… the tears came cascading down my cheeks.

I stopped mid-measure. I sucked in a painful breath, and quickly turned off the instrument. I swallowed the sob that was stuck right at the top of my throat. I stood up, and backed away as if it was physically hurting me to sit there. I shouldn't have done it. I opened the gates that I'd locked tight and was being overtaken by the feelings I'd been burying for the last five years. I quickly grabbed my things and rushed toward the back door. I needed to get away, and fast.

The walk home was quick. I only lived three blocks away. I rushed to the door of my building and took the stairs two at a time. I climbed all the way to the rooftop deck, skipping my place altogether. When I burst onto the roof, my heart felt as if it were in a vise. It ached, and I couldn't stop the pain as it continued to overtake me. This is why I don't play. This is why I lock that part away. It makes me remember, and every time I remember… it hurts.

"Why?" I screamed out over the city. Cars were traveling the streets below, honking and rushing about as if nothing was wrong. "Why did you have to leave?" I dropped to the ground, wrapping my arms around my bent knees and rested my head on them. I stayed there until the sun began to rise in the distance. The dark sky was beginning to grow lighter, and my body was finally tired enough to succumb to sleep. I stood, stretching in the process, and made my way down to my apartment. I unlocked the door and stared at the piano across the room. It was covered in dust, a piece of sheet music still propped up on the stand. The bench was now covered in a multitude of things after lack of use. My shoulders dropped in defeat. "I'm sorry. I just can't," I murmured to myself as I tossed my things on the counter and made my way to my room. I quickly stripped down to my underwear and climbed onto the bed. I'd feel better after I slept. I shouldn't have played. I shouldn't have let the feelings in. I must build the wall stronger, thicker, taller. I can't keep doing this.