Page 89 of The Perfect Melody

Tonight’s crowd was wonderful and reminded me of everything I used to love about playing smaller venues. Austin did an amazing job with the songs we practiced, and now that we’reboth done and ready to head home, a few people are even asking if he’s planning to do a full set of his own. The blush on his cheeks as he makes awkward refusals is adorable.

Jittery with nerves, I hover by Austin’s side until he’s said his goodbyes to the friends who came to support him, eager for us to get back to his place. The performance may be over, but as far as I’m concerned tonight is only just beginning. There’s no putting it off any longer—it’s time to tell Austin who I really am.

“Have I told you how amazing you look tonight?” Austin asks, locking the front door behind us.

Smiling at the compliment, I take off my boots and set them to one side in the small entrance hall. “And here I thought you were too nervous to notice,” I tease, but the tone of my voice sounds off even to my own ears. Before we went on stage, I felt great in this outfit. It’s one of the things I picked up when Mei, Daphne, and I went shopping together. The moment I tried on the black satin slip dress, with a fringe overlay that spans from my waist to a couple of inches above my knees, I knew I wanted to wear it for a performance sometime. When I paired it with my cowboy boots and denim jacket, I felt like the perfect blend of both versions of myself—normal girl Cassie and country music star Melody. Now I just feel like a fraud. I’m terrified, but it’s high time to tell Austin the truth. I owe it to him.

“Are you OK?” He steps closer to peer down at me, his hands finding their home on my waist. “You were quiet on the drive home.”

I take a small step back, and his frown deepens. “Can we sit down and talk? I—I need to tell you something.”

We move through to the living room in silence. Where I’d usually curl into his side, we now sit at opposite ends of the sofa. The distance might be small in actuality, but it feels like we’re oceans apart. The longer Austin and I sit without speaking, the more difficult it is to find my words. I practiced this so manytimes, but now, faced with the knowledge that I might lose him over this, my mind is painfully blank.

Always one to get to the heart of the matter, Austin breaks the silence first. “Are you leaving?”

“No.” His relief is palpable but short-lived. “I want to stay in Pine Grove, but it’s complicated.”

“Thentalkto me.” Frustration leaks into his voice, and I don’t blame him. He’s been more than patient. “Tell me what’s really going on with you. We’ll figure it out—together.” His steady resolve is almost painful to witness, knowing I’m about to turn his world upside down.

Letting out a slow breath, I brace for the worst while daring to hope for the best. “There’s no easy way to tell you this, so I’m just going to spit it out. Before, when I said I worked in the entertainment industry and you assumed I was an agent or talent manager—that’s not the truth. My real nameisCassie St. James, but I also have a stage name. Melody Night.”

Silence. Green eyes blink at me in confusion. “Isn’t she, you know, rich and famous? You still haven’t saved up enough to have Gem fix your car—you can’t be her.”

I thought this might happen. After all, the situation is completely unbelievable. Luckily, I came prepared. Holding up my phone, I show him a paused video interview of Melody. “I’m being serious. Look at this. Now look at me. Imagine if I lost the glasses and dyed my hair blonde.”

He’s shaking his head in disbelief, but his eyes give him away. He knows I’m telling the truth but doesn’t want to accept it—not that I blame him. His disbelieving laugh breaks the silence. “No, this can’t be you. You’re not some famous singer. You can’t be.”

“Play the video. I’m speaking in a higher voice and putting on a stronger accent, but that’s me. I know you see it.”

Austin runs a hand down his face. “What is this? You’ve been working in mybarfor crying out loud. Why would you do that if you’re her? Is this all a joke to you?”

“No. All of this—us—is real, I swear.” Unshed tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I’m the one who made this mess. I won’t cry in front of him as though I’m the injured party when he’s the one having the rug pulled out from under him.

“Why would you do this? I don’t understand. How the hell did you even end up inPine Groveof all places?”

“I’m sorry.” My voice cracks. I clear my throat and try again. “I never meant for this to happen. When I came here, it was because I needed a break. I’d just finished my tour, but Miranda—my mother—went back on her promise to give me time off. My friend Liam really did stay here with his girlfriend last Christmas. He’s a well-known actor, but nobody bothered him while he was here. We thought this would be a good place for me to lie low while I figured out what I want.”

He’s quiet for a moment, chewing that over. “Why the… disguise?”

Tugging lightly at the ends of my hair, I reply, “This is actually pretty close to my natural hair colour—I’ve not dyed it since moving here—and I prefer wearing glasses to contacts. This is me.” I wave a hand at myself. “The blonde hair and the glitter—that’s the person my manager wants me to be.”

Austin drags his hands through his hair, tugging at the copper strands in frustration. “I knew you were keeping something from me, something important. You have this way of telling me about your life without sharing any real details. I told myself it didn’t matter—that who you were before coming here wasn’t as important as who you are now.” He shakes his head, looking at me as if I’m a stranger.

“I’m still me, still just Cassie.”

“I wish that were true, but you’re notjustCassie. You’re Melody too, and that woman is a stranger.”

My heart drops to the pit of my stomach, but I can’t blame him for feeling that way. “Most of the time she feels like a stranger to me too. It’s why I left that life behind—so I could figure out who I am when I’m not being forced to play a role I was never right for. The person I’ve been here—the person you’ve been getting to know—is the real me.”

“You’re not going to stop performing.”

He doesn’t say it like a question, but I answer anyway, “No. Singing at Bowman’s helped me realise it wasn’t music I fell out of love with, it was the constant scrutiny, the pretending...” I clear my throat, not wanting to get sidetracked. “I plan to keep my stage name but ditch the whole princess persona—it’s not who I am. The next album I release will still be under the name Melody Night, but the content is going to be one-hundred percent Cassie.”

“You told me you were seriously considering staying.” His voice is dull. Lifeless. It’s worse than if he were shouting.

“I am. I’ll have to travel for some events, and whenever I go on tour again, but there’s no reason Pine Grove can’t be my home base if I want. When I came here, I never imagined I’d make friends or find someone like you. I thought I’d hide away from the world for a month or two, then go back to being miserable in Nashville. Being here, being with you, helped me see I can have more than that if I want. I can buy a house here, set up a home recording studio, find a manager who respects me and my music. I want to stay, Austin.”

His hands clench and flex in his lap as he processes. “I want to believe you, but I— You know this isbeyonda lot, right?”