Page 104 of The Sound Between Us

“You’re so busy protecting yourself from becoming him, you’re forgetting to become you.”

Simon is listening to every word with the fascination of someone watching a particularly dramatic soap opera. I shoot him a look that suggests he might want to find something else to do, and he reluctantly shuffles toward the back room.

“I saw you,” Vinny continues. “Not this you.” He waves at me. “But the real you. And you know what? You were magnificent, Seren. Your mum would have been proud.”

“It was a disaster.”

“No, love. It was honest. First time I’ve seen you be properly honest in years.”

The words hit harder than they should, probably because there’s truth in them. How much of my life have I spent defining myself by what I’m not rather than what I am?

“You can’t spend your whole life reacting to what your father did wrong,” Vinny says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m not⁠—”

“You are, though. Every choice you make is about not being him.”

Before I can argue, my phone starts ringing. Unknown number, LA area code. I let it go to voicemail, but Vinny gives me a pointed look.

“I know someone’s been trying to reach you about recording,” he says. “Mark’s a mate, he called when he realised you weren’t going to be heading back in with Elementary. Good producer. Won’t try to turn you into someone you’re not.”

The phone starts ringing again. Same number, same insistent buzz against the shop counter.

“The business doesn’t have to be poison, Seren,” Vinny says gently. “Your mum proved that.”

“And look what happened to her.”

“She chose love over career. That’s not the same as having no choice at all.”

The phone rings for the third time, and this time I pick up before I can change my mind.

“Seren?” The voice is American, warm, professional. “This is Mark, from the studio? I didn’t get a chance to chat with you properly before Elementary finished their session. But I’d love to have you back, on your terms.”

Elementary finished their session. The words sting more than they should.

“Yeah, I’m not—” I start.

“No pressure. Just... if you want to see what you’re capable of. On your own terms.”

From the back room, I can hear Simon trying to pretend he’s not listening to every word.

“I’m scared,” I admit, surprising myself with the honesty.

“So we’ll take it slow,” Mark says simply. “And if you hate it, you walk away. No questions asked.”

Vinny nods encouragingly from his chair, and even Simon has reappeared, recognising the weight of the moment.

“Your mum made her choices about music,” Vinny says quietly. “But she’d want you to have the chance to make yours.”

“That’s emotional manipulation.”

“It’s also true.”

I look around the shop—at the carefully organised chaos, the safe little world I’ve built in careful reaction to everything I didn’t want to become. And for the first time, I let myself imagine what it might look like if I stopped running away and started running toward something instead.

“If I do this, it’s on my terms,” I say into the phone.

“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” Mark replies.

“Right.” I take a breath that feels dangerous and necessary. “Let’s see what I’m actually made of.”

After I hang up, Vinny grins at me.

“So you’re going back to LA?” Simon asks, looking genuinely disappointed.

“To make music. Not to chase some fantasy about Harrison Carter, but because maybe Uncle Vinny’s right. Maybe it’s time I stopped being afraid of my own voice.”

The decision sits in my chest, terrifying and essential in equal measure.

And if Harrison happens to be in the same city? Well, LA’s big enough for both of us to exist without colliding.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.