Page 6 of Saving Graces
“Cassie,” they said, “after last night? This is just the beginning.”
Last night had been a revelation, and not just the sex. She’d been so nervous to perform, especially with all the people she knew were in the room. From her musical mentors, Noah and Coral, to the supreme ear of the famous producer Greta McCafferty and her preternaturally talented sister-in-law Brynn, it was already an intense amount of pressure. Add all of that to the fact that her own sister was Savannah Grace, a woman who could only be described as a global phenomenon and whom Cassidy had revered in the most complicated fashion for her entire life, and who was standing in the second row, neatly disguised for both of their sakes… it could not have been more terrifying.
But once she’d taken the stage, it was nothing but fun. It felt natural, exciting, humbling and joyful. All the eyes and all the ears; the spotlight; the sound system amplifying her voice; her song. Despite the nerves, she’d known she could do it. She’d seen in Kinsey’s eyes the truth as they rehearsed together. Cassidy was fucking good, and together, they were magic. She couldn’t wait to see what else they could do.
The crowd’s roar had been one thing; Lane’s pride another. But it was Savannah, pulling her into a hug right after she exited the stage, her eyes shining bright - despite the brown contacts - that had cinched it for Cassidy.
“You,” she’d whispered into Cassidy’s ear, “are going to give me a serious run for my money.”
From Savannah Grace, that meant something.
They’d run a rough road together, and when, after a lifetime of being estranged Cassidy had shown up sulkily demanding her older sister pave the way for her career in the music industry, Savannah had flat out refused. In time, it was Cassidy who’d come to see the truth of her sister’s rebuttal: if she actually wanted to make it big, then hanging off Savannah Grace’s coattails was about the worst way to go about it. She desperately did not want to be seen as a nepo-baby, a talentless hanger-on who had skipped the hard work to coast into the limelight. She wanted to earn it on her own terms - to be seen for who she was - not for comparisons to her world-famous older sister.
It was a straightforward decision to make, but it meant some weird hoops to leap. Like her sister and Brynn appearing incognito in the crowd, or her introducing them to Kinsey under fake names then pretending she wasn’t close with Noah and Coral. She wasn’t naturally good at bullshit, preferring blunt honesty in all things, but she already respected her new bandmate and she wanted to earn her respect, too.
Kinsey was a godsend, as far as Cassidy was inclined to believe in God. She’d placed the ad, hoping for a bandmate but expecting a placeholder. The very first - and only - person to answer had been beyond her wildest dreams. She’d swallowed slightly as the intensely beautiful and incredibly poised young woman had walked in to meet her, with a sunny confident smile.
“You’re Cassidy,” Kinsey had said, like she was informing her of the fact, and Cassidy had found herself nodding in agreement. Kinsey was dressed in the uniform of a professional musician, jeans and a plaid shirt, but instead of making her look casual, she looked like she’d wandered off the set of an indie movie somewhere with her long glossy hair and big dark eyes. When she’d revealed she’d arrived from New York that seemed to just about make sense to small town Cassidy.
There was an energy to Kinsey that was extremely attractive. She was so sure of herself, but didn’t rub it in your face, and her musical intuition was wild. Not only was she an excellent drummer but her voice was beautiful - not showy, just easily lovely - and every suggestion she made for Cassidy’s songs elevated them from good to great. She’d been both thrilled and intimidated by the process.
On their third time rehearsing together, Cassidy had put down her guitar and stared at her.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” she’d asked and Kinsey had blinked.
“Fuck yeah,” she said. “Why?”
“You don’t seem like the back-up type,” Cassidy blurted. “You’re too talented. Plus, look at you,” her face went slightly pink, “you look like you should be the magazine cover shoot of some hot lead singer in a rock band, not playing drums behind me.”
Kinsey grinned, a trace of flirtation in her eyes that Cassidy wasn’t sure if she’d translated correctly before, but now was adamantly clear.
“Thank you.” Kinsey raised her eyebrows teasingly. “You’re not exactly horrible to have to play drums behind yourself.”
Cassidy absolutely blushed that time.
“I’m not flirting with you,” Cassidy said and Kinsey just smiled, unabashed. “I’m stating facts. Why are playing back up? You can play guitar too, probably better than me. Why aren’t you fronting your own band?”
Kinsey cocked her head from where she sat at her drum kit.
“Because I don’t care about that,” she said. “I don’t give a shit who’s in the front and who’s in the back. I just want to be on the stage and making incredible music. I can play a bunch of instruments but I love being a drummer. It feels like being the heartbeat of the whole thing. Once I find the right person or the right people, I want to be an equal collaborator in writing and composing. If it’s someone else who’s the star, I’m happy for them to do the hard work, as long as we’re in it together.”
Cassidy tapped her pencil against her songbook, considering..
“I want to collaborate,” she said, then she smiled. “And I want to be the star.”
Kinsey’s face had split into a huge grin.
“Then let’s get you there.”
The winning set at the open mic had clinched the deal and Cassidy was over the moon to have the kind of high-level collaborator that would make her seem like an actual professional, rather than just a girl with a guitar and a plan. She was also fun to hang out with, and queer, which made the whole my boyfriend is trans non-binary thing a happy non-event. It was also good having the two of them meet. If Kinsey was about to be a whole new important person in her life she wanted there to be no confusion whatsoever, about where Cassidy’s heart - and body - belonged.
Chapter Four
To Kinsey, the next couple of months seemed to fly by. Her current day job was as a waitress in a stupidly hip Nashville coffee bar. Her colleagues were nice enough and the customers seemed to fall into two camps - either rude or flirtatious - and Kinsey, being apt at both languages, was able to make enough in tips to make the otherwise lousy wage work for her.
“What are you doing, daydreaming?” The afternoon manager Chrissie waved her hand in front of Kinsey’s face and gestured at the two waiting coffees in front of her she was staring at, glazed. She blinked, and ferried them out to the table, unsure how long she’d spaced for. It wasn’t daydreaming she’d been doing but song-arrangement. Cassidy had brought something to her the day before - a cute sparkling new love kind of thing, with a solid hint of sex - which had chased her thoughts all morning, playing over and over until she had just about worked out the bridge.
She cursed the afternoon customers, cursed the fact she had a day job at all. All she wanted, was to run from the minimalist industrial decor and creative facial hair choices of the customers, sprint to her home and grab her guitar to Facetime Cassidy and cry listen, I’ve got it, then play it back to her, watching her eyes light up as she hummed along, Lane popping their face in the screen to give her a pretend high-five on the way past.
