Between Songs Read online

  Book 1

  of

  Inked Cadence Series

  Between Songs

  Inked Cadence Series

  Book 1

  N. Kognytao

  Copyright © 2018 N. Kognytao

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

  Independently Published

  ISBN: 9781983111068

  Cover art by N. Kognytao

  Printed in the United States of America

  Dedicated to:

  The two amazing people who inspired the main characters in this story – hope you both don’t mind!

  Table of Contents

  Author’s Note

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Author’s Note

  Hello! Welcome to the story! Please allow me to explain a little bit about the adventure you are about to embark on.

  When I first began writing this story, I had the intention of challenging myself with a couple dynamic I had never really worked on before, which was that of an older, more dominant female and a younger more submissive man. As someone who likes to challenge myself, this did end up being a very difficult storyline for me to create.

  In discussing this with some other writers, we found ourselves in a very deep conversation about the difference between writing male and female protagonists, and it got me thinking about the common dynamics in writing romantic couples.

  I am a very experienced author and have written many different types of stories including what some would call “traditional” stories and others that would be considered quite unconventional. And in thinking about the different types of couples, I began to wonder how much gender played a part in the way romance was written for a reader.

  When authors write, despite what some people think, they cannot just force the characters to do whatever they want—well, they can, but that does not make for good story-telling. There has to be a certain level of believability in order to make dynamic characters for readers to enjoy. It was surprising to me, when I thought about it, to realize how much of the story’s believability is dictated by the way a character of a certain gender interacts with the environment of the other characters in a story. For instance, a man meeting another man in the middle of the night in a park would not make him immediately in fear of his personal safety, where as if a woman was meeting a man in a park in the middle of the night, it would be unbelievable to assume that she did not have some fear for her physical safety. Sadly, this is the truth of the world we live in.

  All this pondering of character gender led me to wonder how different a story would be if the genders of the characters were switched, but everything else remained exactly the same—careers, backstories, family, side characters, etc. This interesting test turned into a full-blown novel, and now I am presenting all four versions to you.

  There are four gender dynamics that you are able to explore if you so desire. Or, if you wish to only stick with your preferred one, the direction of the plot will remain the same and you can enjoy the characters along their journey of your favorite dynamic.

  Enjoy this labor of love and happy reading,

  - N. K.

  Chapter One

  Of course it had to be a cloudy, windy night that Leah Dillon found herself feeling watched in the park that used to be comforting to her. She was unsure if it was the long shadows from the single flickering street lamp, or the breeze that carried in the distant clouds occasionally illuminated with lightning, but something felt different about that dark night.

  The park was not big, but at two in the morning it was empty and slightly menacing with the faded, cracked plastic on the playground equipment and the whining of rusted swing set chains. Leah had walked through the park dozens of times late at night, but her troubled thoughts and the heaviness in the air made her feel like a stranger.

  Constantly looking over her shoulder, she stepped along the brick path toward the railing along the cliff overlooking the downtown city lights. Hesitantly, she put one foot on the lower bar and then the next, her hands grabbing the upper rail tightly as she stood perched on the barrier.

  Don’t be scared. Just think of it was flying.

  Leah forced herself to stare at the city lights until she felt calm once more, her own words to her little sister ricocheting in her head. She needed to feel the freedom once more, the elation, the control over her own destiny…

  It was a feeling she had been greatly missing.

  But there was no achieving that sense of peace that night. There was too much weighing on her shoulders and too much anxiety sitting in her chest.

  Her next best option was to wander around the perimeter of the park until her legs were tired before heading home. Considering her restlessness, she was sure the sun would rise before she felt tired enough to return to the apartment.

  She turned around and took three steps away from the railing before she yelped and stumbled back, falling awkwardly against the guardrail.

  There was a figure sitting at the top of the playground’s slide, their face illuminated only by the blue glare of a cell phone screen and the dim glow of a recently-lit cigarette. The eyes stared at her, one eyebrow cocked at her reaction.

  “H-How long have you been up there?!” she demanded, straightening quickly.

  The person removed the cigarette.

  “Do I need to call the Suicide Prevention Hotline, or are you good now?”

  “Huh?” Leah was surprised by both the question and the man’s, soft, deep voice. “Why would you…I wasn’t going to jump.”

  She watched as he clicked the phone off, putting it back in his pocket and pinching the cigarette in his lips once more, taking her word. She stood, nervous, not sure if she had reason to flee. She looked around, contemplating the best way to go to avoid the stranger.

  “What are you doing out here at two in the morning?” he asked, pulling her attention back to him. “It’s not safe for a woman to be out on her own. You should head home,” he added, remaining in his position, his eyes looking over the cityscape beyond her, his entire demeanor relaxed.

  “You’re out here late. What are you doing?” she challenged. “It’s because of creepy guys lurking in parks that girls can’t be out whenever they want.”

  “Perhaps it was a good thing I was here, since you were about to jump.”

  “I wasn’t going to jump,” Leah protested.

  “Then what were you doing standing on the railing to a cliff?” the man asked, nodding to the cityscape below. “If you wanted a better view, there are safer ways to go about it.”

  “I wasn’t…” Leah stopped, realizing that it was only natural the man had thought she was a jumper. Why else would she be out there at two in the morning standing on the cliff railing? “It’s something I do when I feel like I need some courage.”

  The man laughed lightly. “It’s courageous to risk your life? What are you, an adrenaline junkie?”

  “No,” she said. “Well, a little, but that’s not for adrenaline,” she corrected, motioning back to railing. “I used to bring my sister here and
tell her that standing there was like flying over the city. It always made her feel better and gave her a sense of hope.”

  The man lowered the cigarette again, staring at the young woman who was slowly walking toward the bottom of the slide. She was hesitant, but his relaxed position and half-interest in their conversation made her believe that he was not dangerous—also, his soft voice was alluring and soothing.

  “Flying, huh?” he murmured. “And you wanted to recapture that moment at this hour?”

  “Yeah, you know. One of those nights.”

  “What nights?”

  “The nights where you’re restless and end up meeting a looming stranger in the park in the middle of the night,” she teased. “So, you’re watching for jumpers?”

  “No.”

  “Restless as well?”

  “You could say that,” he answered vaguely. “Why are you seeking courage at the edge of the park at this hour?”

  “Oh, uh…well…” she said, stopping at the bottom of the slide, “I, actually, have an audition tomorrow. It’s a really big one, too, for RM Entertainment. It’s one of their open auditions. I’m terrified.”

  “Why are you terrified?”

  Leah blinked at the stranger, laughing brokenly.

  “Why wouldn’t I be? This is my dream, and I’ll be standing in front of some of the biggest names in the business, singing. I mean…what if I’m terrible? What if I don’t make it?”

  “Well, with that attitude, you certainly won’t,” he agreed simply.

  “You don’t know that. I can be nervous. You know, there’s a fine line between being confident and being arrogant. Being a little self-conscious will help be walk that line a little better.”

  “No, it will get in your head and destroy what confidence you do have,” he corrected. He took a deep drag of his cigarette. “You’re a singer?”

  “Yeah, musician, really.”

  “And this is something you dream of doing every day when you wake up?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then be confident to the point of arrogance. Go through the audition as if you can’t lose. If you play the what-if game about your talent, it will only lead you to parks at two in the morning and ulcers.”

  “I would like to point out that I’ve played the what-if game for years and this is the first time I’ve been to a park at two in the morning.”

  “Then you’re a baby artist,” he snorted. “Give it time, kiddo.”

  “Is that what you’re doing here at two in the morning? Are you a musician?”

  “No, but I know something about creativity.”

  “Creativity is not where my problem is,” she admitted. “I’ve always been able to create and write songs. I’m nervous about everything else that comes with being a musician.”

  “Then you’re not creating properly,” he said simply. “Artist are not polished products, they just create polished work. They themselves are broken, and real, and human. Those raw traits are what set a true artist apart from the cookie-cutter celebrities they roll out one after the other.” He leaned his head against the side of the plastic covering of the slide, the lit cigarette still dangling from his lips. “If you want to succeed, then lay yourself bare through your art. Show your wounds and your vulnerabilities so that your audience can identify their own pain through your art and have the confidence to pull it off, to lay your pain out there and let it empower you. That is how you succeed as an artist, not by dancing around on stage in expensive clothes singing stereotypical love songs. Is that what you want to do?”

  “Well, no, of course not. I want to stand apart from everyone else,” Leah said strongly. “I want this. I cannot explain how badly I want this.”

  Rather than descend by going down the slide, the man grabbed the bar to the side of the slide and swung down, dropping into the wood chips and taking two steps toward Leah. He was tall and his broad shoulders were accented by his large coat. Leah instinctively backed away from him, but he stopped, pulling a tin out of his back pocket and snuffing out the cigarette in it.

  “Then stand apart,” he said. “Let your creativity guide you and show your raw passion and talent, if you have any. Leave the marketing to everyone else. Show everyone you’re an artist, not a common product.”

  He turned away and left the playground, ignoring the way Leah immediately took two steps back, nervous around the stranger. However, as he left, Leah stared after him. It was only after he was completely out of sight and she was left standing next to the slide that she wondered if she had dreamt her encounter with the mysterious man. However, the faint smell of cigarette smoke and his words still lingered long after he had left.

  * * *

  After her encounter in the park, it was no wonder that Leah could not sleep that night. However, as a twenty-three year old, she was resilient enough to function the following day despite the lack of rest. She had never been to one of RM Entertainment’s open auditions before, even though she had always heard about them on the news. They occurred only two times a year and the competition was always very stiff. Standing in the lobby of the RM Aurora Dome, listening to the other acts warm up their voices or practice their dance routines or recite their monologues, she felt more nervous than she ever had in her life.

  RM Entertainment had started as a music label, but had expanded into all forms of entertainment in the previous decade, causing it to become the most diverse entertainment company in the country. Even knowing she was only going to be singing and had no reason to worry about the actors or dancers, seeing them practice while she stood silent against the wall, fiddling with the number pinned on her blouse had her feeling unprepared for the audition.

  One by one, acts entered the stadium. Having seen concerts in the Aurora Dome, Leah knew how enormous the venue was and she could already feel how small the stage would make her feel in the almost-empty stadium.

  Finally, her number was called.

  Shaking, hands sweating, she followed a young woman in black to the backstage door, allowing her tiny flashlight to guide them through the wings and onto the stage.

  The towering structure of the catwalks, pulleys, and swinging spotlights was dwarfed in comparison to the empty surrounding seats. The main white lights shone onto the stage while few lights illuminated the area beyond. As Leah stepped onto the stage, she felt her nerves begin to overtake her.

  “Good afternoon,” a voice called from the seats beyond.

  “Hello,” she said, trying to remain calm.

  “Leah Dillon?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re here for a singing audition, correct?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And what will you be singing?”

  “It’s an original song, actually,” Leah explained. “I wrote it for my sister three years ago. This will be the first time anyone but her has heard it.”

  “You composed and arranged a track for this song?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do they have your music?”

  Leah nodded, shifting her weight to hide her trembling legs. She could barely make out seven figures in the first section of seats, though she could not see their features. Despite not being able to see who was in front of her, she knew that the top producers and artists of RM Entertainment made up the judges. She forced herself to breathe deeply, calming herself and quieting her mind.

  “Whenever you are ready, Ms. Dillon.”

  Closing her eyes and stepping closer to the microphone, she took another deep breath and then nodded to the man off stage waiting to play the song’s backtrack. She kept her eyes closed and thought back to sitting with her sister in the hospital, murmuring the song under her breath to lull her into uncomfortable sleep, or when she would sing it to her little sister as she cried through the pain of treatment. She thought back to nights at the park looking over the city lights and talking about soaring over the city.

  The melody washed over her ears and she began to sing.

  These days, it
’s impossible to breathe

  I remember happy summer days

  Before the darkness encroached

  And tried to block the sun’s rays

  You pierce through the shadows

  A smile hiding the pain in your eyes

  Finding untold strength within

  As the world collapse, you find the will to rise

  You spread your wings, you never conform

  And with grace, you soar into the storm

  Head-on, no fear

  Your power is greater than you know

  You fight, you strain, and battle on

  Because life is too precious to just let go

  You may stumble, but you’ll win the war

  Because you have wings and you were meant to soar

  She could not see the reactions of the judges, and she was grateful for that mercy. She kept her memories firmly in mind, allowing the emotions she felt at that time to rise to the surface once more. Though she had written the song to help her sister, it had helped her through the horrific ordeal as well. There were times when she sang it to himself just so she could hear the words of encouragement.

  Be vulnerable and raw. Show them your wounds.

  When I see you, I feel your warmth

  Just your smile can make the fog abate

  Your radiance makes my life feel complete

  Despite your wounds, your soul radiates

  I am struck by my awe of you

  Where do you find the will to stay that strong?

  An angel with the strength of a dragon

  You turn your pain into beautiful song

  Hardened by battle, yet soft like a feather

  Let’s fly into that storm together

  Head-on, no fear

  Your power is greater than you know

  You fight, you strain, and battle on