Page 141 of Stolen Hearts
“When I wrote this song, I knew it was special. But never in a million years did I expect it to go on to give me my first-ever Grammy.”
There’s a pant in my heart as the thought of Samuel creepsinto my head. The song may have taken on many meanings since I wrote it three years ago, but I can’t forget that this song was about him, even if no one else knows that.
I look upward, let out a smile, and wonder if Samuel is looking down on me right now. If he’d be happy that this little song about him won an award. That although I would never want to replace him, I’ve managed to find another anchor to hold me down.
I lower my head slightly and catch the teleprompter telling me to wrap up.
Fuck.
“There are so many people to thank, far too many to name, and I promise I’ll thank you all in person later. But before they usher me off, there is one person I’d like to thank tonight other than Avril Lavigne. Betty. For reminding me that even though this world I find myself in may be crazy, even though it may steal away my freedom and invade my privacy, through it all you’ll always be my anchor. This Grammy is for you.”
I quickly turn, my eyes welling up, and catch another glimpse of Christopher as I do. My mom stands there, wiping a tear from her eye, as the actual Mariah Carey links arms with me.
“Dahling, who’s Betty?” she whispers in my ear as we leave the stage.
Freddy shakes my shoulders as he stares directly into my eyes.
“You’ve got this. You’re a mother-fucking Grammy Award winner.”
“We are,” I say, grabbing his black jacket and jumping up and down with him, like a fish out of water.
The tech crew has already rolled out the stage setup, and I pace frantically, waiting for our cue to emerge from the back of the stage.
This is my chance to reclaim my narrative, to get back on the horse.
To not have what happened five months ago happen again.
“Right, they’re ready for you.” The stage manager motions us forward.
“Let’s knock this out the park,” I say and I stick my hand into the center of our group. Each band member puts their hands on top.
“One, two, three, Fanny flaps!” Freddy says and laughs out loud as he fulfills our tradition of saying the most random thing after three. We walk out to the four black boxes, with white rimmed lights around the edges.
“Fresh from his first Grammy win, next up we have Alexander Morgan, withMy Anchor.”
Deep breath.
Deep breath.
I make my way through the song and allow myself to soak every moment in. I look out to the crowd and see my team, my label, and artists I know and admire all singing back at me. Even my brother is mouthing along to the words as he films it on his phone.
As I get to the final chorus, I catch Christopher moving frantically out of the corner of my eye. My parents look concerned as they hug him before he dashes up the stairs.
What the hell?
The performance ends and I stay in position, painstakingly counting down every second as the audience claps for far longer than I’d like. That’s something I’d never thought I’d think. The screen comes down and I’m finally able to run off stage.
“That was amazing!” Lucy says, standing by the monitors.
“Do you have my phone?” I ask, ignoring her comment.
I need to find out what’s going on with Christopher.
“Yeah, of course. What’s wrong?” Lucy pulls it from her purse and hands it over.
“You smashed it, bro,” Andy says, slapping my back as the rest of the band joins me.
“Thanks.” I nod at him and dial Christopher.
