Gifted Connections 1

Gerry had blow-dried and straightened my hair. That had caused an argument in the room and between Lionel and the stylist. Some of them had wanted to keep my hair in its natural state and the others wanted it straight. Lionel and Gerry had won, so it was now a shining curtain of darkness flowing down my back.

The first outfit was a long, black, lacey, sleeveless dress that appeared demur at first. On closer inspection, you noticed that there was no slip under the top half of my dress and the neckline was a deep V, so you could see a generous amount of cleavage and my black bra that was underneath.

I tried not to look at anyone as I left the room. I was too nervous. There was no less than thirty people milling around. I looked up and saw that all my guys were sitting up in the loft, their legs dangling in between the metal railings that ran across the loft. I looked away before I could see their reaction.

Will and Lionel quietly talked to each other, following the photographer around. The photographer and three of his assistants were currently arranging Ben in one of the large windows with his guitar. He had a transformation done to him as well. I could almost swear I even saw makeup on him. His hair had been trimmed and shaved. He now had a high faded pompadour. I liked it. He looked less like a hippy/ surfer and more like a polished rock star, if there was such a thing.

His stylist had put him in a simple black tee, showing off his tattoos on both his biceps. A pair of faded of jeans with tears in them encased his long legs. His feet were bare, and he wore rings on his fingers. The only other jewelry he had on was a cross around his neck.

The other guys were sitting around with their parents, except for Mike. Mike was eating in the kitchen while his mom was busy on her phone. She was always on her phone. Even when she came to watch us at We 7 last Friday, she had barely looked up from it. I now know why he had such a brash, bitter demeanor. His father was dead, and his mother was disconnected from him. She was there physically and monetarily, but not mentally or where it mattered most.

The stylist had blow-dried his hair and trimmed it, but it still was long, falling to his shoulders. It was shinier and healthier looking than I normally saw it. He generally kept it tied back off his face. He was in a pair of jeans, a white V-neck t-shirt, and he was barefoot.

I could see that they wanted to give us a simplistic, but clean look.

“You’re up, sugar,” the photographer’s eyes lit upon me. He had a slight southern drawl. He was a tall, skinny man, with long blond and silver hair. He carried himself lithely, like he floated on air. “The camera’s gonna love ya. I’m Ed, and you must be the lovely Blake.” Then he turned to the guys and their stylist. “Outfit two please, for the next set of shots.”

I feigned a smile. “Thanks. Where would you like me?”

“I heard you’re a bit of a prodigy on the piano,” He smiled as he arranged part of my hair behind me and the other across my shoulders.

I blushed. “I enjoy it…and I’m good. I wouldn’t say I’m a prodigy.”

He sat me down on the bench, and started to climb on a stool to get me at an angle from above.

“So, I got to hear some of your music on my way here. Girl, you got some pipes on you,” he talked softly to me as I tried to get comfortable. He was clicking away, but I knew he wasn’t getting what he wanted.

“You have to have her play,” Jace said softly behind the photographer.

I hadn’t seen him slip down from the loft. Every weekend he had been home these past few weeks, I had been working or keeping myself occupied. I didn’t know how to talk to him after seeing him with Molly that night. It also didn’t help that the paparazzi suddenly took an interest in the music teacher that Molly Hunt had been seen with at the Wings and Lace show. Their pictures were plastered all over the gossip magazines. Them out together getting coffee. Them out shopping together. Them everywhere! Everyone told me they were just friends, but they looked way too perfect together.

The photographer looked at him contemplatively and nodded.

His blue eyes caught mine before I could look away, and I found it hard to look away for a second, my hands poised above the keys. Our relationship had always been strained. The barrier between us different than the others. But he had been the first one I felt completely comfortable getting intimate with. I didn’t know how to bridge this gap between us. Should I continue to pretend everything was fine? Seriously, they looked so good together and they had so much history. I couldn’t compete with her or that. We made our connection, maybe I needed to just let him go.

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; “Perfect, sugar,” Ed crooned, and my gaze was drawn back to him. “Wanna play a little something for me?”

I gave him a lopsided smile and looked down at the keys. I had been working on a new song the last few weeks. It was a love song, a song full of longing and desire. A song full of confusion and a feeling of being lost. Most of the words were written and the song was pretty much complete. I just hadn’t played it for the guys in the band yet, because like my audition song, this song was close to my heart.

My fingers automatically began to play the song as I sang the lyrics in my head.

They said we are connected

And we were meant to be together

Little do they know forces stronger than us

Were trying to tear us apart

I still dream of your arms around me

And the taste of your lips

Waiting for the day we can be together again

Bounded one night