"So, my dear friends, so many of you listening, time is flying by, and we still haven't managed to uncover the identity of our mysterious singers! Does anyone have a convincing idea?" Albert, the host, asked into the microphone. "Our friends are here and waiting for your questions. Call in!"
Tom and Belinda exchanged a knowing look as they tried to think of witty responses to give their listeners.
The program, since their first appearance, had become a cult, and every time they were scheduled to appear, the switchboard went crazy.
When they arrived that morning, they found dozens of kids outside the studios, waiting to discover their identities, and they had to use an emergency exit to avoid being seen.
Belinda smiled calmly, feeling as if she were in a dream, and no longer tormented by the torment she had felt in the previous days. Bill's sudden change had brought a smile back to her lips, and, interpreting it as a gift from fate, Belinda had decided that until he left she would no longer seek arguments or ask pointless questions.
Just as I discovered I loved him, I can discover that maybe it's all over, she thought, even though she knew that wouldn't be possible.
After the silent dance the night before, she had enjoyed the smile she'd had that morning when Bill had handed her his breakfast cup. It had seemed like the brightest morning of her life, even though the rain had just stopped outside.
She recovered at a slight nod from Albert, demanding her attention. "What clues can we give our friends, who are still sailing in the dark?"
"Indeed," Belinda replied. "I don't know what to say... I'm an ordinary girl, and even if they met me on the street, they wouldn't even notice me."
"I noticed!" Tom laughed. "In fact, I think I even booed you."
"You're no good." Belinda sneered. "And that's not helping our listeners!"
"We've got Luc on the line who wants to ask a question," Albert announced. "Go ahead, buddy!"
"Hi, both of you," said the boy.
"Hi," they replied in unison.
"I'm a cybernaut, and I'd like to see if I could find your voices online, even in recent songs!"
"Well... I've done some covers, and maybe you can find some English versions," the girl replied. "For my friend..." She turned to look at Tom, who nodded. "Maybe you'll find some of his arrangements, but he's not a soloist. Let's just say sometimes... he sings backing vocals in his band!"
"Good, I'll look for you! But I hope you'll put the complete piece online soon... That fragment piques our curiosity."
Belinda sighed, having realized that sooner or later the piece would have to be recorded. She didn't feel like singing the song; it didn't come naturally to her.
"Why are you taking so long to release the complete piece?" asked a dry female voice, startling her.
"You know," Tom chuckled, "our beautiful fairy is a bit shy about the outside world."
"What does that mean? She doesn't like success?" the girl asked, surprised.
"Exactly!" he replied. "What's your name?"
"I'm Dana, and I'd like to speak to you, do you mind?"
Belinda took the microphone. "Hi, Dana."
"Why don't you want to record this song?"
"You know, Dana… sometimes you dream about this moment for a long time, but when it arrives, you realize it's not really what you want… I understand that not everyone understands my way of seeing the matter, but…"
"But have you discovered something more valuable?" the other continued. "I know how you feel… I've been trying to make the leap into the music world for years, but I haven't found any open doors. Then I had a little girl, and everything I'd fought for didn't seem so important anymore."
"That's fantastic, isn't it?" Belinda mused with a smile in her voice.
"Yes, but I really miss music..."
"With that voice, you're a rocker, right?"
"You can say that, sister! We recognize each other, even through the airwaves."
"Why do you think I have to market my song?" Belinda asked her seriously.
"It's another test to face. You owe it to yourself and to those like you who believe in music. In time, you'll be the one to dictate the terms... A bit like the greats did, from Bruce to Bono, to name a few."
"Damn, you aimed high!" Belinda laughed. "Do you think we'll ever reach their level?"
"I don't know, but you're on the right track, girl!" replied the other. "Do you want to give up on the uphill struggle? Deny our beliefs?"
Belinda thought for a while and admitted to herself that Dana was right. If she'd given up now, wouldn't she regret it?
You never finish anything in your life! Bill had scolded her, and sadly, he was right once again.
She looked up and stared at him through the glass, his headphones on, his gaze fixed on her: a silent presence, but constant and attentive.
"Dana," he said in a barely audible voice. "I'll be waiting for you in the front row at my debut: don't leave me alone!"
"You bet, baby, I'll come find you!"
It was done: she had already promised in front of everyone that she would record the single, but she still felt conflicted. She knew it was the most logical thing to do, but a part of her was still reluctant.
She took off her headphones and looked at Tom, who was smiling resignedly and sympathetically.
"Come on, it won't be that bad!" He patted her knee. "There will be worse things to face."
Belinda looked at him and realized he was referring to the unresolved issues they had with the people who were tormenting their souls. She snorted disconsolately.
As they exited the cabin, as Albert announced that they would be guests two days later, they found André and Karl with smug expressions.
"Not a single word or I'll retract everything live!" the girl warned them, her eyes narrowed. "I'm already biting my tongue."
The two continued to smile gloatingly, but said nothing.
"You did the right thing," Naomi admitted, approaching. "You couldn't put it off any longer, Linda."
"I know, but I'm not entirely sure I'll be able to..."
"Don't think about it now," Tom comforted her. "When do we want to go to the recording studio?"
"The contest ends in ten days! Do you want to do it early?" Kristian reiterated.
"The studio is free tomorrow, if you want to start!" Karl interrupted, fixing the girl with piercing eyes.
Belinda felt suffocated, and the same sensation squeezed her legs, screaming at her to run, to take her time, to... Oh God: panic was overwhelming her!
Two hands rested gently but firmly on her shoulders, pulling her back slightly and leaning her against Bill's reassuring body.
She felt the fear fade, and slowly, even the panic subsided. She took a deep breath and gave a faint, pale smile. "Yes, we can start tomorrow too!"
Before walking away, Karl gave her a light caress on the cheek.
"Good girl, my girl!"
Tom looked at her in surprise and then looked up at his brother, who gave him a slight nod. He nodded silently and suggested they all have a drink at the bar, complaining about the heat.
They walked away chatting, leaving Bill and Belinda alone, standing in the middle of the corridor.
"You know I'll never make it, right?" Belinda sighed without turning around.
Bill leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Not even if Tom is there to support you?"
Belinda held back a shiver and, taking a step forward, turned to look at him seriously.
"If you want that damned song recorded, I want you through that glass looking at me: you can't let go, not even for a second, okay?" she snapped irritably.
"Why?" she asked, surprised. "I thought..."
"Don't think!" she replied curtly. "That's the only condition: you have to be there."
Bill remained thoughtfully watching the tiny girl, her sparkling eyes fixed on him, determined to gain his presence. He didn't understand.
He had thought she hated him enough to not want to sing for him... and instead she wanted him there, with her.
Perhaps there was some truth in what she had admitted during that famous night of revelry with Tom.
He smiled slowly and raised an eyebrow, sketching a bow like the one the previous evening. "As the princess commands!"
"Thank you," Belinda murmured, lowering her head and heading toward the bar to join the others, while Bill let his smile grow ever wider.
He was proud of her, of her courage, of her determination. He knew she could do it; he just had to rediscover the spirit with which he had written those words and that music.
That song was the last thread holding them together, and he would cling to it with all his might to keep it from going away. They needed each other; it was his only certainty.