And she felt...like she was home.
She was still in a euphoric haze the next day when her manager called and said that a major radio station had picked her song up for airplay as part of an indie artist showcase. She wasn’t really going for being an indie artist, but if it got her radio airplay... Well, it was more than anything else had ever done.
It felt exposing, that song. And yet... It was what she wanted her dad to hear, wasn’t it? What he had done to her.
“It’s going to be on a radio station,” she said to Flint.
“That’s amazing,” he said. “And fast.”
“I guess... When they know, they know. I just kind of can’t believe that... Something I just kind of threw together like that...”
“The song was from your heart. It didn’t need anything other than your voice.”
And she held that close. That confidence. That simple belief in her.
Her manager decided to distribute the song online, which she hadn’t done before, mostly because she didn’t see why anybody would want to hear the song if none of the radio stations wanted to play it, but he was adamant that they get it out there before it played so that people could look it up after. Which was a good idea.
So within two days, the song was published onto various streaming platforms. And then something very unexpected happened.
The song got picked up on a popular app when a viral “daddy issues” challenge happened, and people played the song in the background while listing terrible things their fathers had done. Making light of it, and using dark humor, but it pushed the sound around, which pushed it up various streaming charts in a way that no one expected.
Least of all Tansey.
“It’s number one on the country streaming chart now,” she said, shaking as she walked down the stairs into the living room.
Flint stood up and picked her up and swung her in a circle. “Does that mean I get to buy you a truck now?”
“You can’t buy me a truck.”
“Well, you won something, surely.”
“You did,” she said. “You’re the one that told me I had to record that song.”
“I think you gotta go with your feelings.”
That was when she got a call that a morning show wanted to interview her, because she had gone from unknown to number one streaming thanks to the viral nature of the hit.
And she really had no idea how to process the fact that all of this had happened in a couple of weeks. The nature of the internet, she guessed, but it was just so far outside her comfort zone, and she was dealing with the fact that she was in love for the first time in her life, and having sex.
The morning show bit was short, and they didn’t fly her out or anything; she just did an on-camera interview over the computer.
And when she asked the local bar that night if she could play, it was a resounding yes, and what she couldn’t believe was how the place packed out. For her.
And Flint sat in the front row, watching her, the pride on his face doing something to her insides.
When they got back to the house, he kissed her. Rough and intense, and she let herself get caught up in it. Let him hold her close. Tear her clothes off of her. He lowered her down onto the bed, and their need for each other was a whole tornado. He was inside of her before she could think, and even though it was fast and furious, she came twice, dizzy in the aftermath.
He kissed her throat, her jaw. “You’re amazing,” he said.
And she just felt it. Welling up inside of her. The need to say it. The need to think it. To really get it out there. “I love you.”
His withdrawal was immediate, and she felt horrified. How had she said that; how would she even let herself feel it? That wasn’t what this was supposed to be. And she knew it.
It was a fling. It was supposed to be a fling. And yes, she had started to fantasize about it being more. Of course she had. But... But she wasn’t going to tell him like this. She was going to... She was going to feel out how long he could see this going. She was going to do it differently. That was all.
“Forget I said anything,” she said.
“Tansey, I’m not sure that I can.”
He looked grave. He sounded even graver.
“You have to,” she said. “I know... I know that’s not what this is.”
“Do you?” he asked seriously.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I...”
“Because if you can’t...”
“I’m not done yet,” she said. “Are you?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m not done.”
“Good. Then we don’t have to talk about this. You can forget I said it. It was... You know. Post-sex euphoria, or whatever.”
“I need you to listen to me. I can’t give you that. I can’t give it to anybody. Don’t take it personally.”
“No, I know. I... I listened to you. I did.”
