▪️Saturday, February 20th, 2018▪️

▪️Chicago, IL▪️

Her voice on the recording still lingers in my ears. We've talked before. We've talked a lot before. Not that I could learn everything about her in the short time we've been together, but that? I haven't heard that from anyone in my life. I'm not sure I've thought these things through for myself. My shoulders sag at the thought of what she had to carry inside.

The dark corners of her soul flip through my head, and I press her closer, wishing I could suck the venom the car crash and years of anguish poisoned her with. I would if I could, but it's her battle. I'll help whenever she needs me, but I can't do it for her, no matter how much I want to. My head, an overfilled suitcase budging with her struggles and realizations, fails at keeping it together. I have so many questions for her. She wasn't kidding when she said she was looking both backward and forward.

"Done with singing? With tours?" The last recording was about the future, and how writing songs is where her true passion lies. Even if it's not as much money as she could get through touring, she wants to be true to herself and give it another try. Be a songwriter.

"Still finishing this one with The Whats. I'm not letting Poppy and the guys down, but we'll be done in three weeks."

Three weeks. The world weighs a little less with those words. That's nothing. I've been waiting to find someone like her for twenty-five years, three weeks will fly by. I stick my nose in her hair, and she smells like possibilities. The muscles in my back relax, and my grip on Angie loosens.

"I promised Amelie to come visit her for her dad's first year death anniversary in March." Angie hooks her thumb on my belt. "Paul was the person who resurrected my trust in my musical talents, showed me music doesn't have to be done one way, and uncorked the songwriting bottle I was too hesitant to pop. Visiting Am and thinking about the years with her dad would be a perfect launch back into my future."

The word that seemed to burn her mouth before sounds so natural existing her lips. She's thinking about her future. My ribs hurt the with deepest breath I've taken in weeks. "What's your future looking like?"

"In my future, I don't have to forget what I really want." Does it include me? "I have two clients lined up for the songwriting. So it's as good of a plan as ever."

"Two clients? That's great." She won't be roaming the country away from me. The thought gives me hope. It swells in my lungs, fills me with more air, more oxygen. Makes me lightheaded. "Does it mean you'll be back in Chicago?"

"I'm still working through it." Angie moves her thumb along the belt of my dobok.

"Good." I want to say more, but her motion is a distraction that wraps the tentacles of want around my waist. The grip of raw desire cracks my self-control. I gave into it when I saw her enter the Academy. But I can't do it now. Fuck. We need to finish this conversation. I put my hands on her shoulders and inch away from the temptation that touching Angie is.

She looks straight into my face, as if our separation hurts her as much as it does me. "I didn't want to make any final decisions until I saw you."

I can be part of her future. "Let's make them then."

Another step back, and I can think with the head that is on my shoulders. No matter how woozy it is. The surety and confidence I'm used to seeing on Angie's face falters as I walk backward until the back of my thighs hit the table.

"I still have time." Angie crosses her arms. "We don't have to make them now."

"I'd rather we do. Knowing what I can and cannot ask of you is important." I sit on the edge of the desk. My heart, my bones, my skin, want to spring across the gap I've created and trace all the curves and angles of Angie's body. I grip the desk and affix myself to the surface. Talk first. Lick every inch of her later.

Angie taps her foot on the floor, lifts her eyebrows, and pauses, as if she's going to deliver news I won't be happy about. "The first gig is actually in Nashville."

That's what, an hour-and-a-half flight? We can do it. I can come visit her; she can fly up.

"But it's only two days. Then ten days in France. Then I'm back in Chicago for a month working with the latest America's Top Singer winner on their first album. Jason says there's more work for me to do."

"Steady income is good." I give her an encouraging smile.

The stern expression on Angie's face falters. "He's flexing his managerial muscles and is in conversations with several more artists. My collaboration with The Whats gave me a lot more clout than showing up in Nashville after I quit UChicago hoping they'll like me, a random girl off the street." She plays with her ponytail.

"That was five years ago." I was messing up my brother's life then, drunk and aimless. She knew what she wanted even then. "You've learned a lot."

"I did. And I'll learn more. Every artist has a different creative process. But it most likely will mean travel. Until I make it big, I'll be the one going to them." Her eyes search mine.

I don't know what answer she's looking for. "You will still need a home base."

"True."

Time for me to show my cards. "Would you consider Chicago?"

Angie nods. "It's the strongest contender." I ease my grip on my desk. She raises her hand up, spreads her fingers, and bends one of them. "I can get to either coast and to Nashville." She bends another finger. "The airport has direct flights almost anywhere." She laughs.

"What?"

Angie bends the rest of the fingers in one motion. "And it has you. You are in Chicago. That's a hard factor for any other place to beat."

I let go of the table and stand up. My pulse hammers against my eardrums. "If you get a place in Chicago, I can volunteer my services as a wall painter. I've become a pro at that." I show her my hand still covered in drops from this morning's patch job.

Angie takes a slow step my way. "You've become a pro at a lot of things while getting the Academy to this point."

"And it's just the beginning." I match her step with mine. "A whole giant beginning I've never thought I would ever be brave enough for."

She stops and tilts her head. "What are you talking about?"

"I've decided to quit my engineering job." I don't stop. I know what I want now too. I want Angie. I want the dojang. I want to stop living up to other people's expectations and start living up to mine.

"Quit? When?"

"Not right away, but Ben and I were crunching the numbers, and I think in six months to a year I should be able to pay up on the renovation loans and start drawing a salary." I straighten my shoulders. Tension drains from my neck. I'm not the same Mike she met, but this is what future Mike looks like. I want Angie to accept the future me I'd like to become. "Money won't be as good as at the firm, but plenty for me to move out of Mom's place and support myself."

"Really?" I see joy in her eyes.

"When I was trying very hard not to think about you, I was thinking about me. If there were no rules, no obligations, no regrets, what would I do? What makes me happy no matter how hard and exhausting it is?"

"The Academy?" She's asking, but she's also stating the obvious.

"The Academy."

We come chest to chest again. Meeting in the middle. "The engineering job was a safe bet to get the money and stability I've been craving since my dad went to prison and abandoned us. I didn't let myself dream of things I wanted. I focused on what I had to do for my family and forgot I had desires too. I have you to thank for making me think about it." I cup her cheek. I broadcast the gratitude for having her in my life through the invisible cable between us that I worried we had damaged too much after our fight.

"You're welcome." Angie places her hand over mine and leans into my palm.

"That means I'll have to live with Mom for a while longer. I won't be able to take you on any fancy trips or buy things for you—"

"That's the last thing I care about." She gives me the daredevil look I love on her. "We're too young to forget what life is about."

"What is it about?" I place my hand on the small of her back and draw her into me.

"Living. Let's live while we can. Together."