The Pages We Forget by Anthony Lamarr Page B

good.”
    Alex nodded, trying his best to disguise the indifference in his body language.
    â€œOur eyes tell stories, of how we used to be,” June continued singing. “Memories locked inside, never to be free.”
    June finished the song as Alex and Bernard looked on. She’d been around Alex long enough to read his body language, despite his stoic stare. He liked the song, but that didn’t mean she was ready to face him. He was sitting in a corner when she walked out of the recording booth. The go-ahead-and-say-it look on his face told her that he’d figured out what inspired her to write this. She tried not to look at him, focusing her attention toward Bernard instead. “What do you think, B?” she asked.
    â€œIt’s beautiful,” he responded. “So, I see you’ve been moonlighting as a songwriter?”
    â€œActually, Alex has been teaching me over the years. I just never sat down and tried it myself.” She looked at Alex, trying to get a silent nod of corroboration. He looked away.
    â€œWell, you’re off to a hell of a start.” Bernard was oblivious to the tension between Alex and June, too enthralled with what he’d just heard.
    â€œIt took me there when I first heard it this morning,” Torrence added.
    â€œSpeaking of this morning.” Bernard remembered why he had driven out to Grosse Pointe. “Why did you cancel your fitting? We’re leaving for L.A. tonight.”
    June began to fidget, playing with her hands, trying to find something to give her courage, despite her growing desire to hide. All morning, June had deliberated and mapped out what she would say and how she would bring the subject up. Instead of beating around the bush, she came right out and said, “I’m not going.”
    â€œWait a minute.” Bernard looked at June, trying to regard what she’d announced. He blinked a few times before he gathered his thoughts. “Now say that again.”
    â€œI’m not going.”
    â€œYou’re not going where?” Bernard asked for clarification.
    â€œTo L.A.,” she calmly answered. “It doesn’t matter if I’m there to sing the song or not. The winner has already been chosen.” She turned to Torrence and asked, “Can I hear what we have so far?”
    Torrence, feeling quite uneasy and privy to a moment he felt he should not be a part of, looked at Alex and Bernard for directions. Alex offered no assistance, sitting in his space with a faraway look in his eyes.
    â€œWell, Alex?” Bernard asked.
    â€œWhat do you want me to do?” Alex calmly asked. “This doesn’t concern me.”
    â€œMan, what the hell is going on here? It doesn’t concern you? You wrote and produced the damn song. If it wins, you’re the one who’ll walk up there and accept an Oscar! That doesn’t concern you?”
    Alex was unruffled. “It would concern me,” he said. “If this wasn’t just the tip of the iceberg.” He calmly stood and walked out of the studio.
    Bernard turned to June. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Alex, and I’m going to stay out of it. But, I’m your manager, Junie, and you’re supposed to talk to me before you go making decisions like this!”
    â€œI’m sorry.”
    â€œSorry?”
    Torrence interrupted by saying, “I’ll wait outside.”
    â€œNo!” June stopped him. “I want to hear the song.”
    Torrence sat down again. He adjusted a few dials and then turned a knob and the recording began. “Yesterday’s songs, some live forever.Their rhythm and their rhyme, still playing melodies in our minds.”
    â€œIt’ll sound a lot better when we add a few background vocal tracks,” June said.
    â€œI don’t know,” Torrence disagreed. “I don’t think this song needs much background vocals.”
    Bernard stepped between