Words and Music by Cameron David by Gina Watson

he’d come to write each one. His music dripped emotion from every pore and she knew it was because he’d written each song at a moment in his life when he’d needed the healing that only his music could bring.
    He played the intro chords, but when he began to sing the molecules in the room transformed into sizzling momentum that filled her belly with a frisson of energy. His voice was rich and he had great range, but what added dimension to his music were the little imperfections and idiosyncrasies, like when he inhaled sharply through his teeth and created friction in the air. Sometimes he’d push the last line from his lungs using reserve air giving the sound a desperate, urgent quality.
    All of his songs had a clear beginning, middle, and ending. She noticed the ending was softer and slower than the beginning and the middle was hard and fast, and usually included a crescendo of rhythms and notes. 
    She could literally sit and listen to him perform live all day. His was the kind of music that was better in person than when made in a studio. Studio work was good for creating a clean cut, but something became lost in the translation. Cam’s music wasn’t meant to be neat and clean…it was gritty, raw, and quite dirty.
    He played most of his set list, but somewhere toward the end of the concert he shifted gears, offering new material.
    “This next song is a work in progress. It always is, right?” He laughed and the crowd followed him. “It’s called Beautiful Girl . There’s always that one girl that no matter what you do you can’t forget her and that’s how this song was born. I say it’s a work in progress because I’m not willing to finish writing it until I know the ending will be happy…and then they lived happily ever after. I’m dreaming I know, but if it takes my entire life I think it will have been a worthy quest. So anyway, here’s Beautiful Girl .”
     
    A bad day at work, a sad bit of news
    Wish I could have been there for you
    But I failed to recognize the muse
    My dreams are all that’s left of you
     
    I missed your birthday
    But what can I say
    And we can’t go back anyway
    Wish I could have seized the day
     
    I’d give all of my talent
    For a chance to make it right
    If you’d let me repent
    Eternal dark turns to light
     
    Beautiful girl
    Where did you go
    Beautiful girl
    I need to know
     
    Oh, God. This song was about her. The melody was evocative and either it was hot under the lights or he was crying. Most people wouldn’t notice, but she knew emotion poured out of him when he sang. He cried a lot. He even had a few songs that made him get highly agitated and angry, but this was almost wailing. It was a beautiful, haunting tune.
    He hadn’t forgotten her birthday—he’d called but it just so happened to be after midnight. He’d asked about her big day, interested in how she’d celebrated. She had nothing to share because she hadn’t done anything. Her mother and father had divorced when she was twelve and both remarried. Another year and they’d both had kids—new families. She’d felt like an intruder. They’d forgotten her twenty-second, confirming that they too saw her as a trespasser in their new lives.
     
    I hear you’ve met somebody new
    Thoughts of you with him sting
    I’m undeserving, but he is too
    One day you’ll rate a king
     
    We were so good together
    But now you’re with another
    I’ll beat myself up forever
    For me there can never be another
     
    You’re hundreds of miles away
    If I were there with you I’d be okay
    But late at night when I’m sleeping
    A vision of you comes drifting
     
    Beautiful girl
    Where did you go
    Beautiful girl
    I need to know
     
    His eyes remained closed. When she’d been intimate with Evan Arnold, it had burned her too. She’d only ever known Cam. Sex with him was angelic, pure, and divine. She’d come close to intercourse with Evan, but in the end she just couldn’t go through with it. She knew Cam thought