Beyond Dreams Chapter 18 - Alternate POV

Collin 

It had been a long time since we’d all hung out together like friends. Joe. Athena. The Brutes in Suits. We’d fallen into cliches—the grumpy but supportive best friend, the bitchy manager, the silent protectors. And then me…the guy who needed supporting, managing, and protecting. But tonight, we gathered in my hotel room, filled our bellies on room service and our lungs with fresh air, and forgot what we had become. Or maybe we remembered who we used to be. 

Maybe it was for Harlow’s benefit. 

Maybe her energy shocked us out of the pattern we’d fallen into. 

Or maybe it was one of those magical days where things click into place and life is exactly the way it should be. 

Whatever it was, having Harlow with us made everything better. Amos told his favorite story about his job as a bouncer, one we’d heard so many times we could recite it ourselves. But Harlow turned bright red, shocked, mortified. Experiencing it for the first time through her reinvigorated the story for the rest of us. We laughed so hard, Amos squeaked. Such a ridiculous sound from an imposing man. 

As Athena launched into her sob story about discovering she didn’t have ‘it’ and having to resort to making other people’s dreams come true, my fingers started itching for Stella. I watched Harlow as she listened and saw the same softening I felt when I first heard the story. This acceptance and understanding of how Athena Wetherstone became a cold hard bitch. Over the years, I’d heard this story plenty of times and nothing about it ever changed. Nothing. Not the words. The pauses. The sad tilt of her head and downcast eyes. 

I could recite it word for word and move for move.  

A couple years ago, Joe and I decided the story was fake, something she used to lower people’s defenses. It made me feel sorry for her.  

I grabbed my guitar and strummed a few chords, waiting for Harlow to catch the drift and bring out Luna, or at least remember what I told her about always having her guitar at her side. 

She met my eyes and I watched it dawn on her.  

 “You still haven’t figured out what I meant when I said you should never be without it, have you?” 

She waved the statement away. “Who wants to hear my music when yours is so much better?” 

How could someone so talented think so little of herself? Harlow’s musical ability overshadowed mine. I’d come to that conclusion the first time I heard her play. She didn’t have the confidence, nor had she put in the time I had, but one day, she would outshine me. Hands down. No doubt. I was eager to get us there as quickly as possible. 

Amos lifted a hand. “Me,” he said, while Brock mirrored him. “And me, too.” 

Joe nodded his approval, adding his hand to the air, and Athena shot Harlow a poisonous glare. As Harlow retrieved Luna from her room, I covered Stella’s strings with a hand. 

“What’s going on there?” I asked Athena. “Between you and Harlow?” 

“She steals your spotlight.” 

“She can’t steal what I willingly share.” 

“You shouldn’t have to share.” 

“That was a bad analogy then. The spotlight is big enough for both of us.” 

Athena opened her mouth to reply, but Harlow returned, bursting into the room with a mumbled apology. She perched on the arm of the couch beside me and started playing, threading her melody with mine. Her music was hesitant at first, but inevitably, she lost herself to the music, swaying, smiling… 

…and humming. 

I listened for a long moment because, damn. She might have a voice… 

I just…I couldn’t quite be sure. 

I cocked my head, angling my ear towards her to get a better sense of what I was hearing. Only, the sound was too quiet, buried under the music of Stella and Luna. Finally, I stopped playing altogether. “Is that you?” 

Harlow’s cheeks blazed and she dropped her gaze. “Yeah, sorry.” 

I hated to see her look like that, a tragic blend of mortified and scared to death. “What have I told you about apologizing? Don’t ever apologize for your gifts.” I shifted, leaning closer, determined to hear more. “Sing for me, love.” 

Panic widened her eyes. Her nostrils. It stopped her breath. She stared, frozen for several seconds before she managed a tiny shake of her head. “I’m not very good.” 

“I don’t believe you.” Whoever told her that, whoever made her this afraid of her voice deserved to meet a terrible end. 

“Collin…” 

Harlow’s fear was in control now and she was actively in flight mode, looking for any reason to bolt.  

Slowly, carefully, I reached for her hand. “Do you trust me?” 

She met my gaze, her pupils dilated, chest heaving, but she softened as we held eye contact. “Of course I trust you.” 

“Then sing. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think there was something to hear. I wouldn’t do that to you. Or to me.” I smiled, hoping she’d calmed down enough to catch the joke. 

Her smile said she did, though the moment the word ‘sing’ left my lips, her panic returned.   

“I see you’re afraid, love.” If only we were alone. This would be easier if we were alone. “I see it and I understand. Silence can be a shield, too.”  

Harlow frowned, sucking in her lips. She took several deep breaths and exhaled slowly. “When I was little,” she began, her voice tight, “I sang all the time. In my room. In the shower. Down at the docks. If I was happy, I’d sing. But Dad hated hearing it, barking at me to shut up if he was in earshot—on good days. On the bad ones, he’d scream at me, going on and on about how I spent too much time with my head in the clouds. Mom offered to sign me up for singing lessons, thinking that might help, but it only made it worse. I’ve been afraid of my voice ever since.” 

I knew it was her dad. I didn’t know how I knew, but I did. That ass did nothing but damage his daughter, shut her down instead of lift her up. How could he not see what a gift he had in her? How could a parent, a father not do everything he could to light his daughter’s passion on fire? Harlow said Burke Hutton was an awful man. I believed her then, but I knew it in my heart after seeing the look on her face tonight. 

I took Harlow’s hand and pressed my lips to her fingers. “You’re safe here. I promise. Nothing bad will happen if you sing. I won’t let it.”  

And that was all I could do at this point. I’d said all I could say, the rest was up to her. She’d sing or she wouldn’t. Though, if it was the latter, I’d keep working on her until she was finally comfortable enough to let her voice out. I sat back, fingers caressing Stella’s strings. I played and played, but didn’t sing. It was an invitation. One I hoped she’d take. 

Harlow opened her mouth. 

And closed it again. 

She was thinking about it, trying to find her courage and that alone made me so proud of her I couldn’t help but smile. 

Harlow let out a shaky breath, cursing quietly. She inhaled deeply. 

Then sang. 

Quietly at first. 

Voice cracking. 

Hands trembling. 

Eyes watering. 

It was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard, and suddenly, Harlow’s eyes weren’t the only ones watering. If I had any doubt that our paths crossed for a reason, it dissipated in that moment. She came into my life so I could discover this gift, and teach her to share it with the world. 

I thought she was magnificent before, but now…now… 

Harlow’s voice grew stronger. She stopped trembling, though she cried as she sang. The smile on her face said the tears were catharsis, healing, but it broke me to see her like that. Right there, in a hotel room in Rome, I made Harlow a promise. 

I would help to heal the sins of her father. I would honor her voice and prove to her that she possessed the talent to fill stadiums. To heal herself and the lives she touched with her music. 

She opened her eyes and met my gaze and she knew. I couldn’t tell you how, but she knew every thought I had, heard every promise I made. Holding eye contact with her, I added my voice to hers and chills radiated across my skin, up my spine, down my arms, across my thighs. 

We were good on our own. But together? We were resonant. Our voices blending and scraping and rolling together. This was…this was special. 

Our song ended on a shaky breath. 

Silence clung to the room and Harlow lifted a trembling hand to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. 

“Shit,” Brock whispered. 

“She’s good.” Amos turned to me. “She’s real good, isn’t she?” 

“She’s better than good,” I replied, searching for words to describe what just happened. 

“She’s fantastic.” The voice came from Joe. I couldn’t remember the last time he sounded so enthusiastic about anything. 

The only one who didn’t speak was Athena. Her eyes shot Harlow full of daggers. Like she would do anything to erase this magical moment. Athena looked like she hated Harlow. I needed to do something about that. 

Later though. 

Tonight, was about what just happened. 

Harlow’s breath rasped through her throat. “I’m sorry,” she said, hand to heart, eyes wide. “I don’t sing where people can hear me.” 

“That’s a travesty.” 

“It scares me to death, Collin.” 

“There’s no reason to be scared of a voice like that.” I glanced around the room, certain everyone would back me up. “You know I’m right on this.” 

“Just don’t ever make me do that again,” she said, huffing a laugh. “I’m not sure I could handle it.” 

“I make no promises on that one, love.” I needed her in my arms. My lips on hers. Magic like we just created couldn’t be ignored. It needed celebrated. 

I pulled Harlow to me, kissing her like the goddess she was. Desire rose inside me, urging my hands to explore her body. I grabbed her ass…then paused as I remembered we had an audience. 

“Get out,” I said, my lips still hovering over Harlow’s. “Thank you very much for coming, but it’s time for you to leave.”  

I kissed her again, backing her towards the bedroom as my friends quickly made their exit. “I’m so proud of you, love. So fucking proud of you.” I hoisted her up and she wrapped her legs around my waist. I carried her to the bedroom and showed her just how proud I was.