Hey, Little Songbird

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So she sang. Feeling a little empty. Her mind was racing. He had become so important to her in so little time.

Behind the glass, on that stage, watching over his patrons like some kind of guardian angel.

But he wasn't here.

Drift on a river
that flows through my arms.
Drift as I'm singing to you.
I see you smiling
so peaceful and calm.

Of course, she knew he had to work. He owned so much in the city. He owned so much. He needed to work, of course she knew.

But it didn't make it any less difficult. She was just...so empty without him.

She wasn't...as happy as she was around him. He made her happier. Without him she was numb.

Her mouth was moving but her heart was still. It didn't even feel like her heart was beating in her chest.

And holding you, I'm smiling too.
Here in my arms
safe from all harm.
Holding you, I'm smiling too.

How did he become so important to her? He looked like a god, carried himself with the grace of an ethereal being. But he wasn't. So how...how did he work his way into her heart?

Empty? Is that how she felt? Empty. No one should have enough power to empty her that way.


Hush now, my baby
Be still love, don't cry.
Sleep like you're rocked by the stream.
Sleep and remember this river lullaby.

She loved him. But she knew she would, when she saw him. Standing there, his hair on his shoulders, eyes forward, and focused.

He stood like a statue. So solid. And she'd been blowing in the wind. She wanted his stability. His power.

And then, all he talked about—like he read her mind was confidence. Be yourself. Say the things you hide.

And so she did. And he smiled at her, and said it was cute. That he liked it. The ugly part of her that greedy and just wanted.

But he took that and made it beautiful. She was always told not to want. To be happy. To content. Not to be greedy.

But Adrian, wanted it all. Asked for it all. Hated when she wouldn't give it to him.

And I'll be with you when you dream.
I'll be with you when you dream.

She'd finished the song. People were clapping. They always did before her break. But they were muffled.

He was gone, and all her senses were dulled. Was that love? He took her eyes and her ears, and her skin and her heart with him where ever he went?

It was scary. And his smile wasn't there to distract her from that simple truth.

What if he left? What if her voice cracked and she couldn't sing anymore? What if she had all she wanted and she wasn't greedy anymore.

A man like him...a god like him. He wouldn't keep what didn't have any use to him, would he? He was always talking about what was needed. What was appropriate.

Very by the book. If she didn't fit in the book anymore, where she would be? What could she feel?

Who she be if he left?

• • •

Adrian signed papers quietly. The office was very still. He'd a lot of work to do.


He looked up. He narrowed his eyes.

"What are you doing here? You showing up it's very inappropriate."

"I heard you've been keeping a woman. You didn't tell me. So I checked her voicemails—"

"You had no right–" he sneered.

"Money. You don't understand do you? The more money, the more rights. I happen to have more money than you. So of course, I have every right."

Adrian stood. "You think you have rights. But you have what you said: money. And that hasn't helped you keep anything. Not your reputation, not your son and not your wife. And you still believe in money?"

"No," he walked along the marble floor, shows clacking. "The paper itself, is just that's paper. Worth nothing. It's what people think it's worth. That's the power money holds boy."

Adrian scoffed. "Boy? I tower over you. You have money, but your body doesn't care. You're dying, no matter how much money throw into it, you can't undo the trauma you inflicted. Look at you, hunched over in sickness and old age."

He smirked. "Since you're secure in the power of money, why don't beg it to save you? Like the god you think it is?"

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