The next morning, Belinda was anxious again as they walked to the rehearsal room. She sat between her two brothers, who were giving her a thousand tips on how to avoid background squeaks, how to amplify the sound of the instrument or her voice.
"I feel like throwing up," she complained, holding her head in her hands. "Stop, please!"
"Not now, Linda!" Naomi scolded her. "Breathe deeply, come on! It's just panic."
She raised her head, white-faced, unable to shake the feeling in her stomach. She knew it was panic, but she couldn't shake it.
"Tom, open the window, quick!" said Hellen.
"But it hurts her to get air!" he protested. "You can keep her voice down, Bill always says that!"
"If you don't let her breathe, she'll throw up on your shoes."
Eyes wide, Tom quickly lowered the window, letting fresh air into the cabin.
"Do you want us to turn on the air conditioning, Bel?" Bill asked attentively.
She inhaled sharply and glared at them angrily.
"I just want you two to stop acting like old aunts and giving me advice: you're making me anxious!"
"Tom, Bill, shut up!" Naomi exclaimed, laughing, and the two obeyed instantly.
Giggling, they continued their journey to the recording studio, where they found Klaus waiting for them. She felt a little more relieved by his presence, even though her hands were sweaty and she kept nervously touching her hair.
She inhaled several times, trying to keep her voice steady, but there was a lump in her throat. She coughed and then tried to concentrate on the music to rediscover the feeling that serenity had always given her.
A hand on her shoulder surprised her; Klaus's gaze was steady, and his lips were smiling.
"I'll be on the drums, if it helps you feel better," he said, "and Kristian will try not to make his usual mistakes."
A laugh came spontaneously, and Belinda looked at them fondly, feeling the tightness in her stomach ease.
"Guys," she murmured. "I'm not Bill... So I don't think I'll be able to do everything right away. You know this song is giving me a hard time, and I ask you to be patient."
"Because Bill made mistakes dozens of times before he became Mr. Perfection!" Kristian reassured her.
"Take all the time you need," Klaus confirmed, winking. "And if you can't do it, stop. You're among friends; we're just rehearsing a little, just to give you some support."
Her throat tightened at their authenticity, and, nodding, she approached the keyboard. She slowly settled in and began practicing the melody, explaining the different passages and chords to the others along with Tom.
They practiced for a while, blending the sounds, until they felt comfortable and ready to add the vocals.
Belinda felt insecure, embarrassed, and had to pause a few times.
"Damn, I can't do it!" she muttered awkwardly. "My voice is dropping."
"You're just nervous," Tom encouraged her. "Come on, try again!"
But even though she managed to finish the lyrics, they sounded cold or sterile.
Naomi shook her head through the glass.
"It doesn't come naturally to her!" she said discouraged. "There's none of the emotion she has in the demo."
"She'll do it," Bill replied confidently. "I'm sure she can do it."
But even the subsequent rehearsals were unconvincing.
"Pause!" Klaus shouted, raising his drumsticks. "We're too good, but we have to be perfect. So, pause!"
With a smile, he went to get some water, while Belinda pushed back her stool.
"What's wrong, Bel? Why aren't you happy with how the song is coming out?" Tom asked, coming closer.
"But can you hear me when I sing? Do you think it's convincing?" she murmured, shaking her head.
"You're actually unnatural. I feel a little uncomfortable too, but I think that's normal."
"I miss the excitement of when we did it the first time, Tom. It feels like I'm acting a part, without emphasis, like in school," she grew impatient. "I hate this song, that's all!"
She burst into tears of disappointment, and Tom hugged her to console her.
"But you love this song," Kristian admitted from behind her. "Remember what you once told me? 'When you're in love, you scream to the whole world when you're happy.' And now you don't want to scream it?"
"You're right, Bel! Come on, find the strength within yourself!" Tom urged her.
"And you have the courage, Tom?" she said softly, wiping her eyes.
"What courage?"
"To say how you feel when you sing this song?"
The boy looked at her intently for a long moment, but finally shook his head.
"There, see?"
She turned to Kristian and hugged him, moved.
"As I told you once before, you're a wise boy."
She let go of him, stretched her arms high to release the tension, and took the time to relax her muscles. She needed to rediscover herself and the sensations she felt when she played. She'd made a commitment to that damned song, and she had to finish it!
She thought back to the emotions she'd felt when she'd written the lyrics, how she'd heard the right music for those words in her mind, but above all, how happy she'd been when she'd sung it with Tom, but thinking of Bill and how she felt for him.
She looked around at the boys whispering, adjusting some cables, and turned to look toward the control room.
She knew Bill was back there, watching her. She'd wanted it, and she'd hoped that, being aware of his presence, she'd have the strength to sing with emotion, like the first time. Instead, she just felt embarrassed, as if she were walking naked among strangers who were watching and judging her.
Her nakedness was represented by her soul, which was closing in on itself, to protect itself and hide its secret: the feelings she had for that boy. If only he had truly known...
Why not tell him? a little voice whispered from a remote corner of her heart.
Yeah, why not? What do I have to lose now? she said to herself.
Just thinking about it made her feel ridiculous: how come she hadn't realized that all her withdrawal was due to never having sung the song just for Bill? Because she hadn't made him understand where it came from?
Now she had understood what to do, and with a firm, "I'll be back in a bit!" she left the room, throwing open the control room, finding herself facing her sister, whom she motioned to come closer.
"Talk to Tom, Tinker Bell," she said seriously. "We won't be able to sing if he feels your tension too. I've figured out what to do to overcome the crisis, but he, proud as he is, hides his emotions under that carefree air, but I can see he's not focused. Help me."
Naomi pulled away, offended, but Belinda took her arm, stopping her.
"This could be the last time you see him, you understand? You can't leave him like this, it's not fair! You heard what really happened with Ingrid."
"I'm not the one who needs to apologize!" the girl retorted.
"Then you don't care about him as much as you say," she declared sharply. "You can keep your stupid pride!"
She walked past her and approached Bill, telling him she needed to talk to him urgently. He stood up and followed her into another room, tiny with a few chairs pushed against the walls and a small open window that ventilated the room.
Wasting no time, Belinda locked the door and turned to look at him: he had never seemed so beautiful and distant, yet she didn't want to stop now.
"You'll make it, Bel," she encouraged her, smiling. "You just have to calm down."
"I'm not nervous, and I know perfectly well why I can't sing."
He slowly tilted his head to look at her, noticing a bright light in her eyes he hadn't seen before. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked slowly.
"Yes, I want to talk about it, now."
She decisively took a chair and, indicating one for him, sat down across from him, looking him straight in the eye.
"I always thought I was angry because you gave my song to André, because you wanted to commercialize it, taking away its value and therefore selling me off, too, but that's not the case..."
The boy reached out to take hers, while she, keeping her gaze on him, intertwined their fingers.
"The truth is, Bill, it hurt me deeply that I never had the chance to sing that song for you, to look at you and make you understand what I felt, what you became to me. I felt robbed of something special that, before being yours, was given to everyone else in the world, except the person it was born for."
"I'm sorry," he said simply. "I didn't understand."
"I didn't understand either until now." Belinda grimaced. "But luckily I realized it in time. I won't sing it until I tell you what you deserve to hear."
She inhaled and felt as if a snake were uncoiling in the pit of her stomach, lifting a weight and freeing her soul from anguish.
"I'm in love with you, Bill. It all happened so suddenly that it scared me, and you know very well that when that happens to me, I tend to run away. You gave me back the light after a long year of darkness; you smiled at me, you saw what I couldn't see in myself, while showing me, without so many stupid words, how you felt for me. Forgive me, I didn't want to listen to you, nor consider what you've done for me, but I desperately need you, to know that you are here and will be here from this moment on. I'm starting to walk a very treacherous path for me, but I'll only make it if I find you waiting for me at the end of the tunnel."
"You'll find me, I swear," he promised her, meeting her gaze seriously. Those words had troubled him because he had sensed their depth. "Maybe my mom is right when she says I don't deserve you," the girl sighed.
"I think you deserve much more than what I can give you, that's the real problem," he said, caressing her cheek. "What have I offered you so far?"
"I'm ready to accept what you offer now, unconditionally." She placed a hand on his heart. "Do you remember? Not words, but what you show at every moment: friendship, respect, affection, anger, resentment... You are all of these things together. I couldn't think of you without your constant mood swings or those sudden bursts of laughter that make you seem like a helpless puppy. I love both your light and your beautiful shadow."
Bill stared at her, moved, and slowly lowered his head.
After a long moment, he slid down from his chair, knelt on the floor in front of her, and whispered, "My light is empty, without the shadow you love so much. It's yours alone, take care of it. You're the only one who's ever seen it." And he held her in an enveloping embrace.
Belinda nodded, suffocated by that embrace in which Bill gave himself to her, unconditionally, handing over what he loved most. She let go and kissed him with all her love.
After a long moment, she struggled to free herself from his embrace and gave him a bright smile. "Bill, I want you to listen to a song!"
She held out her hand and dragged him toward the door, and as she opened it, she gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek.
She returned to the rehearsal room, arriving at the same time as Tom, whose face was covered in a strange smile.
"Everything okay, Tom?" she asked, looking at him questioningly.
"Yes, everything's fine. Shall we start again?"
Nodding to the others, Belinda adjusted her stool and, after concentrating, began to play. The music came out naturally, caressingly, and the two boys' voices glided over it like a velvet bow. Belinda poured all her heart into those words, and this time her voice didn't tremble, not even from the emotion. Tom fit perfectly into the pattern, lending depth with his raspy voice, creating the same thrill they'd felt the first time they'd sung it.
On the last note, they looked at each other, and from their smiles, Kristian and Klaus also understood that they had unblocked themselves and would have no problems with the final recording. They let out a liberating laugh, while Klaus exclaimed, "Not even Bill perfection took this long. You're a force, my girl!"
The door opening and Bill walking in smiling was confirmation that from that moment on, everything would be fine. Naomi's eyes were also shining; they were fixed on Tom, but they caught her sister's gaze, who smiled with satisfaction.
Good girl! she thought, winking, while the other blushed.
Then, forgetting everything and everyone, Belinda flew into Bill's arms, which enclosed her world and her love in a timeless embrace.
The rest of the day passed in the best possible way.