t in Boston, my fingers insured for a sum that now seemed laughable. A rival, desperate for my chair in the orchestra, had "accidenta

of my depression. "A new composition awaits, Elara. A different ki

self-destructive guitaris

s playing a battered acoustic guitar, his talent undeniable, a raw, aching beauty in his music that was being

n he stumbled out into the alley, I followed. He was abo

y voice raspy from dis

loodshot and suspicious

but I had my voice, my understanding. I hummed a counter-melody to

en in his hand. For a moment,

hildhood spent in foster care, about the abandonment that had become the discordant theme of his life. I made hi

e started playing together on street corners, then in small, crowded bars. My v

re you doing all this for a wreck like me?" We were sharing a cram

. "Maybe the universe just knew we

up his neck. "Then you're the best dam

t. He held me tight all night in our cheap hotel room, the rain lashing against the win

d with his, broke. I cou

m back just as fiercely. "I'm n

ilent. For five years,

tingale & Guitarist." And for a

my own world, he started his affair with Kendra. A young, ambitious tour ass