Songs About a Girl by Chris Russell

Author:Chris Russell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Flatiron Books

19

At the top of the first flight of stairs, a sign read “PIANO STUDIO: SECOND FLOOR,” so I kept climbing. Soon I could hear music and the sound of Gabriel’s voice.

When I reached the door, I peered through the grubby glass panel into the room. It was small, with dark purple walls and a leopard-print sofa, and in the far corner, Gabriel was sitting at a battered upright piano, playing a song. A large, round mirror hung on the wall above him.

Cautiously, I turned the handle and stepped inside. He stopped singing and glanced into the mirror.

“Charlie Brown.”

I stood there, listening to the sound of my own breathing. Eventually, Gabriel spun round on the piano stool.

“I didn’t know you played the piano,” I said, lowering my camera bag to the floor.

“Most people don’t.”

I stuck close to the wall, my fingers fidgeting in my sleeves. Did he have any idea what had happened to me online? Had it even registered in his world?

“So apparently I’m supposed to get some pictures of you,” I said, opening my case. We both listened to the angry tear of the Velcro.

“What if I’m not in the mood?” said Gabriel, provocatively.

“Where do you want to be?” I replied, ignoring him. “In here?”

He tinkled a couple of notes on the piano.

“I’m shy, Charlie Brown. Plus my hair … it’s just not working today. Shouldn’t have slept in my rollers. Maybe we—”

“Why did you do it?” I burst out, staying tight to the wall. Gabriel frowned.

“What?”

Everything was twisting in on itself inside my head, like tangled tree roots: the humiliation at school, Gabriel’s lyrics, the way he was acting like nothing had happened. I closed my eyes, wishing I was still on the upper circle with Olly, hiding from the grown-ups.

“That photo of us, from Brighton. It’s been posted online. I’m being trolled, people won’t leave me alone, and I don’t—”

“Charlie, slow down for a second.” He closed the lid of the piano and stood up. “What are you talking about?”

He walked toward me, and I fought the threat of tears.

“Someone leaked the photo on a fan blog.”

“What photo?”

I glanced up. He looked genuinely confused.

“The photo of us, onstage, in Brighton. The one I sent to you. No one knew about it apart from us, but some fan blog has posted it online, and…”

Gabriel closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath.

“Wait. I think I know what happened.”

He stepped back from me, hands interlocked on the back of his head.

“Carla came round to my hotel suite last Sunday, asked me out for coffee, and I … I don’t know, I’d sort of had enough, so I told her I wasn’t interested. I guess she’s not used to hearing that, ’cause she went off the rails a bit. Kept going on about how we were the perfect celebrity couple.” He ran both hands through his hair. “Anyway, she talked about you a lot. Asking why you were always around, why I was hanging out with someone who wasn’t even famous, stuff like that.

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