Magic's Song by Genia Avers Page A

cords weren’t tied to her heart—she would sing, even if it killed her.
    “Nothing’s wrong. The song is fabulous.”
    Brent shrugged, not seeming convinced. His problem.
    “It’s bloody fabulous.” Marcus whooped. “B-man, this is your best shit yet.”

Chapter Twelve
    The next weeks were the most hectic of Tanith’s life. Between classes, recording, and performing, she rarely had a chance to breathe. Her life spiraled out of control while her heart plummeted to hell.
    Marcus teased her about her determination to finish her master’s degree. “Love, enjoy this. You can always go back to school.”
    “Leave her alone,” Julian retorted. “If I had a day job, I’d keep it too.”
    She ignored them. All of them—especially Brent. His new songs were soulful, beautiful. In her weaker moments, she allowed herself to hope, foolishly, that she might have inspired some of the music. Surely Early Morning Loving was a reference to her one experience with Brent.
    In my dreams. Of course the song wasn’t about her. She meant nothing to him.
    She complained to Darson after the recording sessions. “Fool that I am, I’d hoped he was just scared, prayed he might really care about me. Not a chance. He isn’t exactly distant with me, he’s polite.”
    “Oh, honey.” Her pal sounded genuinely distressed. “Polite is the kiss of death. It’s time to move on.”
    Didn’t she know it? Brent had moved on, why couldn’t she do the same? They’d had wild sex—nothing more .
    “There’s something I have to do first.” She hoped her voice teacher had a current phone listing.
    ****
    As the weeks passed, the frantic schedule got worse. In addition to more recording sessions, photo shoots, and school, the new manager grew insistent. “The Tough Guys have to play more gigs. We’ve got to promote the new tracks.”
    The out-of-town concerts were the worst. Unlike the other members who had no distractions, Tanith took a bus home after each gig. She had classes to attend and a thesis to finish. Probably a good thing since she could barely contain her tears when she looked at Brent. Still, her body was desperately sleep-deprived. Her heart was in worse shape.
    She’d gotten a list of names from her voice teacher. Any one of the women could probably step in and take her place, but she couldn’t muster the courage to tell the manager she wanted out. She should probably talk to Brent first anyway, but even if she could get him to stand still long enough to hear her idea, she doubted he’d agree. He didn’t want her, but he seemed obsessed with having her as lead singer.
    Finally, they finished the last track. The group made plans to celebrate. Tanith just wanted to sleep.
    “Why wait until tonight?” Marcus asked. “Let’s go out now.”
    “It’s three o’clock,” Tanith said. “In the afternoon.”
    “So?” Marcus waggled his eyebrows.
    Tanith shook her head, determined she wouldn’t look at Brent. “You’re a maniac, Marcus. You guys have fun and have a drink for me. I have to study.” She hurried for the door before the keyboardist could talk her into staying. “I’ll see you tonight if you’re still standing.”
    She didn’t really have to study. She’d completed her last exam and turned in her thesis. She didn’t feel like celebrating. The guys would bring dates and she’d feel worse. She wasn’t ready to face Brent’s new girlfriend.
    “C’mon, Tanith,” Marcus yelled. “We can’t have a party without you.”
    “Sure you can,” she said with exaggerated lightness. “And no cracks about my need to improve my mind. You dumb asses.”
    She strutted through the door as if she owned the world. Her bravado lasted for half a block. When she felt certain no one from the club could see, she plopped down on a bus-stop bench. Over the years, tears trickled down her cheek from time to time, but she hadn’t really cried since her parents died. She was more than due, but the tears didn’t come.