Maybe it was the sleep deprivation that had me feeling so wired. Maybe it was this excitement over Cave and my anxiousness to get back to him today. Maybe it was both those, combined with the arrival of some new studio equipment to the suite, which meant I could spend some time focusing on music, but whatever it was, I was cresting a great high before Toby brought me crashing down.

Of course, before Toby walked in, I’d encountered another obstacle. Here I was, thinking up an album of melancholy songs, but it’s hard to focus on melancholy when you’re happy. These dismal chord progressions I’d been hearing in my head, all the ghosts and humming and everything, seemed a little trite, like Halloween decorations.

Ransom Pope’s Halloween Album indeed.

This is the kind of thing I was finding myself singing:

Passing the graveyard

Of all my old ambitions

Spent too much time

On superstitions...

I was giving myself a headache rolling my eyes at my own awful lyrics. Still, I made sure everything was saved. Got to make sure you get that writing credit so the royalties will pour in.

I was just trying to rhyme the phrase It wasn’t a ghost under the bedsheet when fortunately Toby saved me from the indignity.

“You sound terrible,” he said from behind me, loud enough to hear through the headphones.

“Are you kidding? I think I’m making the transition from youthful popstar to whiskey-voiced old bluesman quite gracefully.”

He stared at me for a moment. “Good lord, something’s happened to you.”

Did I have something on my nose? I raised a finger to my face. “What is it?”

“You tell me. Where’s the anger? You’ve been stomping around this suite like a furious child for days, and now that we’re back from the mountains, you’re a new man. Aside from your voice.”

I hadn’t made any grand proclamations about Cave on the way back. Everybody could tell something had changed there, something had deepened, but I didn’t want to talk about it. Except to Cave. I was excited to tell Cave every single minute of emotion I’d had since we separated at the airport.

“And all this time I thought the sea air of Oceanside was supposed to be helping,” I said. “Maybe I needed dry mountain air all along, to settle my mood, if not my throat.”

It took me a minute to realize his face was tight with concern, and that he was gripping his phone with both hands.

“Something up?” I asked.

“I don’t want to bother you while you’re writing,” he said.

“And yet you just interrupted me. What rhymes with bedsheet?”

“Head meat? Red feet?” he said grimly.

“Unhelpful! But why the sour face?”

He sat on the couch near the computer. “I think we’d have to call the mountain trip a failure. We posted very few pictures of you and Giselle in the mountains. Less than ten. Response from your fans was underwhelming. They’re bored, Ransom. They don’t see any energy there. They want to know, where are all the parties, the concerts, the premieres?”

I set the headphones on the desk. “I did what you asked, Toby. I took her with me. I tried to keep her entertained, so she’d take those pictures you’re so certain will tide the fans over. I can’t help it if they weren’t good pictures.”

He held up his phone, and I saw a picture of us walking the trail. Both she and I were smiling...but our smiles were stiff, uncomfortable. In other shots, we looked positively sullen.

“This isn’t what people want to see,” he said. “The headlines talk about a chill between you two. There’s speculation you’re already breaking up.”

“Aww, and we were off to such a promising start.”

“Ransom, I need you to take this seriously.”

“It’s not a problem,” I said. “She and I already had a talk about this at the lodge. It’s all worked out.”

Although, having said that, these were all pictures taken after our talk. It’s strange because I’d thought we’d had a good time together on the trail. It felt like we’d been chattering together like old times. Why did we look so unhappy in the pictures, then? I mean, we looked great. Smiling, beaming, we both knew how to act for the camera. But you could tell. Something in the brow, something in the eyes.

Another shot of us on the balcony, taken from below. Who had snapped that one? She with her cigarette, me standing far away from her. Of course, I’d just been trying to avoid her smoke cloud, but with the distance between us, the caption could well have been Couple With Problems.

I had a hard time caring, though, for one very major reason. “I guess I need to tell you,” I said. “I’m seeing Cave.”

He shook his head. “Yes, we couldn’t help but notice you brought him with us, along with a baby, a dog, and a nanny the size of a dump truck.”

“No, I mean...things got serious. We’re together now.”

To his credit, Toby was a professional. I knew he wanted to yell at me for letting things move forward with Cave. It was one thing to see Cave a few times on this nostalgia quest of mine. But being in a relationship with him was different.

His lips were pale, squeezed together, and he nodded, making a little humming noise. Finally: “I see. And when you say serious...”

“It’s not temporary.”

His eyelids closed, and he continued to nod. He looked like he was dozing off, but I knew Toby: The wheels in his head were turning furiously right now.

“I knew this,” he said. “I tried to tell myself it wasn’t happening. Honestly, I thought you’d spend the night with Cave and get freaked out or bored or...or something. Are you sure you like him enough for the trouble this is going to cause us?”

There was no hostility in the tone. We were past the stage of dire warnings and Toby-tantrums (or so I thought). Now it was time to survey the extent of the damage and begin making plans.

“I don’t know how to describe what it’s like to be around him, Toby.”

“You’ve made millions of dollars describing what it’s like to be around people. Try.”

“He makes me feel like a whole person. Real. A real person. Do you know that feeling, when things just click into place, and you feel like you’ve known someone for years?”

“You have known him for years.”

“That’s just it. We’ve spent half our lives apart. But five minutes with him, and I feel like I’ve come home. It’s not Oceanside I was missing. It was him.”

“Are you sure?” he asked again. “I mean, childhood sweethearts, it’s like when people get together at a high school reunion or something. Maybe you’re just having an early midlife crisis?”

“In my early 30s?”

He sighed. “In this industry, yes, you’re now middle-aged. There is an army of early-20-somethings eager to take your place. They grew up with your music, and now they’re ready to knock you off the throne.”

“There’s an optimistic thought.” It was nothing we hadn’t talked about before, but I didn’t need his little black raincloud drizzling over me right now.

“It’s a realistic thought. That’s why the label wants so badly to get these next two albums done. People are going to love you forever, Ransom, but best case scenario, they’re going to stop buying so many of your albums. They’re going to move on to the next person. So we have to watch our step right now. Make the most of these albums while we can.”

“I’m not arguing with you, Toby. You’re right. I agree.”

“So you’re not in some Throw it all away for Cave mindset? I’m just making absolutely sure.”

That made me laugh. “I care very, very deeply about Cave. I mean...I love him, man. I hesitate to even say it because I feel like if I say the words, I might wake up from this dream I’m in. But he knows what we’re up against with this stardom of mine. We’re going to be fine. I want to keep making music. I want the adoring fans and the adoring boyfriend.”

“Okay. Okay, that’s good. I always worry you’re going to do something impulsive. That is to say, more impulsive than deciding you’re in love with a stranger you used to know back in school. But we’ve got to turn these headlines around, Ransom.”

I already knew what he was going to say. “I have to woo Giselle some more.”

“Have you even talked to her today? Do you know what’s going on with her? You should find out. I mean, she has to make it at least to the parade, Ransom. If she doesn’t, if this all falls apart--”

“--it will hasten my career’s demise. Yes. You’ve made that clear. Thanks.”

“I really, really need you to be nice to her. Show her off. Buy her things, in public.”

“God, you make her sound so shallow, Toby. She really isn’t.”

“I know that, Ransom. I know it, you know it, she certainly knows it. But you’ve got to do it. You have to help her career, so she can help yours.”

“Fine,” I said.

“Fine as in, ‘Yes I’ll talk to her’?”

“Yes. I’ll make some plans with her. We’ll go do something extravagant. Well, as extravagant as Oceanside allows.”

Toby let out a long sigh. “Thank god. Okay. Maybe we can survive this after all.”