Chapter 3

For a week, there had been no sign of Tae. The days passed quietly, and with each sunrise, Hailey felt her courage slowly returning. The eerie tension that had haunted her steps began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of relief. She started to believe that perhaps Tae had finally gotten the message and left her past where it belonged—in the past.

Life in the small town resumed its peaceful rhythm. Hailey found herself smiling more, breathing a little easier. She began to focus on her music again, and for the first time in a long while, the melodies that had eluded her started to flow back into her mind. She and Mark spent their days together, working on songs and playing music, falling into a comfortable, if unconventional, partnership.

One day, as they were wrapping up a session, Mark pulled a small, crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Hailey. She looked at him curiously as she unfolded it, revealing a phone number scribbled in Mark's unmistakable messy handwriting.

"Whose number is this?" Hailey asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked up at him.

Mark shifted slightly, looking almost sheepish—a rare expression for him. "It's mine," he muttered. "I bought a cell phone."

Hailey's eyes widened in surprise. "You did? I thought you hated phones."

"I do," Mark replied with a grunt. "But… I figured since you're technically my boss, we should be able to call each other if needed. It's nothing fancy, just a simple flip phone. Don't expect me to use it for anything else."

A bright smile spread across Hailey's face, and she quickly pulled out her own phone. "Well, let's test it out then," she said, her fingers dancing across the screen as she typed a message. She hit send and watched Mark as he hesitantly pulled out the small flip phone from his pocket.

The phone beeped softly, and Mark flipped it open, squinting at the tiny screen. The message was simple: "Hi Mark!"

He looked up at her, his expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. "Really?" he said, his tone dry.

Hailey giggled. "I just wanted to make sure it works!"

Mark rolled his eyes and slipped the phone back into his pocket. "Don't get carried away," he warned her, though there was no real edge to his voice. "I still don't like phones, but I'll keep it on me."

"I won't bombard you with texts, I promise," Hailey said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "But I'm glad you got one. It's good to know I can reach you if I need to."

Mark gave a small nod, though he didn't say anything more. He wasn't one for words, especially when it came to expressing anything resembling sentiment. But Hailey knew that this was his way of showing he cared, of offering her some extra peace of mind.

With the new connection established, they fell back into their routine, the ease between them growing with each passing day. Hailey's heart felt lighter, and for the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, she was finally free from the shadows of her past.

The following day, after another productive music session, Mark sat down on a chair, flipping it around so that he could rest his chin on the backrest. His dark eyes observed Hailey as she spoke, her voice animated yet tinged with a weariness that he hadn't noticed before. She was recounting her journey as a pop idol, describing the endless hours of practice, the strict diets to keep her slim and attractive, and the countless hours spent in recording studios.

Mark listened intently, his brow furrowing as he tried to wrap his head around the chaotic lifestyle she was describing. It was so far removed from his own quiet, almost reclusive existence that it felt like a different world altogether.

"Why do you want to go back to that?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine curiosity.

Hailey sighed, a hint of uncertainty in her expression. "I don't really know," she admitted, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of her guitar. "Singing has always been my dream, ever since I was a kid. But there's so much hard work involved. It's exhausting, to be honest."

Mark considered her words for a moment. "I won't blame you if you go back," he said finally. "I mean, being an idol has its perks, right? Money, fame… But maintaining that kind of lifestyle? It's draining. I'd rather stick to my smaller gigs."

Hailey looked up at him, her interest piqued. "What gigs do you do?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Mark shifted slightly, his eyes glancing away as if reluctant to share this part of his life. "I play the guitar for kids and old folks," he said, his voice almost begrudging. "The pay's not great, and I don't even play what I want to. Nursery rhymes for the kids, old school rock for the elderly."

Hailey stared at him in surprise. "You do that?" she asked, unable to hide the shock in her voice. "I didn't think you had such a… soft side."

Mark rolled his eyes, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "Yeah, well, don't get any ideas," he muttered, looking away as if to avoid her gaze. "They're just gigs. Helps me get by."

She smiled, though she could see he wasn't used to being seen this way. "It's nice," she said softly. "I think it's great that you do that."

Mark's face softened slightly, though he still seemed intent on downplaying it. "When I was younger," he began, his voice low, "I was in a heavy metal band. We had big dreams, but it didn't work out. The band broke up, and I ended up here. It's quiet, peaceful… I needed that after everything fell apart."

Hailey nodded, sensing the weight behind his words. "That sounds tough," she said gently. "But it also sounds like you've found something that works for you."

"Yeah, I guess so," Mark replied, a hint of wistfulness in his tone. "But sometimes, I wonder what it would've been like if we'd made it. If we hadn't fallen apart."

Hailey watched him for a moment, seeing a different side of him—one that was marked by past disappointments and what-ifs. "You know," she said, her voice thoughtful, "I think everyone has those moments. Wondering about the path not taken. But you're still here, still playing music, and that means something."

Mark met her gaze, his eyes holding a quiet intensity. "Maybe," he said simply. "But that doesn't mean it's easy."

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their respective pasts hanging in the air between them. But there was also an understanding, a shared recognition of the struggles they had each faced in their pursuit of music.

Finally, Hailey broke the silence. "Thank you for telling me about your past," she said, her voice sincere. "I know it's not easy to talk about."

Mark shrugged, though there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Don't mention it," he said. "Just… don't go spreading it around, okay?"

Hailey chuckled softly. "Your secret's safe with me," she promised.

Mark nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer. "Good," he said, standing up and stretching. "I think we've done enough soul-searching for one day. You hungry?"

Hailey laughed, grateful for the shift in the mood. "Always," she replied, standing up to join him. "Let's go find something to eat."

As they headed out, side by side, Hailey couldn't help but feel a deepening connection with Mark—a connection forged not just through music, but through the shared understanding of what it meant to chase a dream, no matter the cost.

Time passed quickly, and the long-awaited music festival finally arrived in the town. The air was buzzing with excitement as Hailey and Mark made their way through the bustling streets towards the festival grounds. The sun was beginning its descent, casting a golden glow over the ocean as the sound of distant music echoed through the air. Hailey could feel the energy building, the anticipation of the night ahead electrifying the atmosphere.

As they reached the festival entrance, the grand stage loomed before them, a masterpiece of lights, sound, and instruments just waiting to be brought to life. The crowd, a mix of locals and visitors, thrummed with energy, their voices blending into a collective hum of excitement. Hailey felt a rush of adrenaline as she scanned through the festival program, her eyes widening at the list of artists scheduled to perform. Many of the names were familiar—friends and acquaintances from her days as a pop idol.

"Look at this lineup," Hailey said, practically vibrating with excitement as she showed the program to Mark. "Some of these people… I can't believe they're here."

Mark glanced at the list, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Who knows?" he teased, nudging her playfully. "Maybe you'll get rediscovered right here at the festival. Imagine that—Hailey Rocco, back on stage for a surprise performance."

Hailey laughed, the thought both thrilling and terrifying. "As if," she said, though a part of her couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to step onto that stage again.

The performance began as the sun dipped below the horizon, and the stage came alive with a dazzling display of lights and sound. The giant speakers pulsed with music of all genres, from rock and pop to hip hop and R&B, filling the air with a symphony of rhythms and melodies. The crowd moved in unison, swaying, dancing, and singing along with the artists who poured their hearts out on stage.

Mark, who had maintained his cool, detached demeanor throughout most of the day, found himself tapping his feet to the beat of the music. Despite himself, he couldn't resist the infectious energy of the festival. The combination of live instruments and powerful vocals drew him in, each song resonating deep within him.

Hailey noticed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I see someone's enjoying themselves," she teased, her voice barely audible over the music.

Mark shrugged, though he didn't try to hide his grin. "It's not bad," he admitted, nodding to the rhythm. "The sound quality here is pretty amazing."

As the music festival was in full swing, the energy of the crowd pulsating with every beat, the stage lights dimmed momentarily, signaling a change in the lineup. The announcer stepped onto the stage, his voice booming through the speakers, but this time, there was a different tone—a hint of concern.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I regret to inform you that one of our scheduled performers has had to drop out unexpectedly," he announced, his voice carrying over the sea of festival-goers. A wave of disappointment rippled through the crowd, a collective groan of frustration filling the air.

Hailey and Mark stood amidst the throng, the news catching them both by surprise. Hailey felt a pang of disappointment, but Mark's eyes lit up with an idea. He turned to Hailey, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "You should go backstage and offer to fill in."

Hailey blinked in surprise. "Are you serious? I'm not even on the lineup. They won't let me just walk on stage."

Mark's grin didn't falter. Instead, he grabbed her hand, pulling her through the crowd with a sense of determination that left no room for argument. "Come on, let's give it a shot."

Before Hailey could protest further, they were already backstage, the hum of activity surrounding them as performers, crew members, and festival organizers moved about, trying to manage the unexpected change. Mark caught the attention of the festival manager, a middle-aged man with a harried expression, who was clearly trying to figure out how to fill the unexpected gap.

"Excuse me," Mark called out, his voice cutting through the chaos. The manager turned to face them, his eyes narrowing in curiosity.

"What is it?" the manager asked, glancing between Mark and Hailey.

Mark stepped forward, his grip still firm on Hailey's hand. "This is Hailey Rocco. I'm sure you know who she is. She's willing to fill in for the performer who dropped out."

The manager's eyes widened as he recognized Hailey. "Hailey Rocco, the pop star?" He looked her up and down, taking in her casual appearance, but there was a glimmer of recognition and excitement in his eyes. "You'd be willing to perform?"

Hailey, feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement, nodded. "If you'll have me."

The manager didn't need to think twice. "Absolutely! Get her ready!" He gestured for one of the crew members to escort Hailey backstage to prepare. As she was led away, Mark gave her an encouraging smile.

"Just do what you do best," he said, picking up a nearby guitar, the familiar weight of it resting comfortably in his hands.

As they stood together backstage, Hailey's nerves began to bubble to the surface. "What should I sing?" she asked, glancing at Mark.

He met her gaze with a steady confidence. "Sing 'Plenty of Fish.' It's your song, your story. You've been working on it for weeks. Now's the time to share it with the world."

Hailey took a deep breath, nodding as she clutched the microphone. She could feel the familiar tingle of adrenaline coursing through her veins, the same feeling she used to get before every performance. This was it—the moment she had been waiting for, the chance to step back into the spotlight on her own terms.

The festival was drawing to a close, the energy of the night reaching its peak as the announcer once again took the stage. "We're thrilled to announce that we've found a last-minute replacement for our missing act," he boomed, the anticipation in the crowd palpable. "Please give a warm welcome to none other than Hailey Rocco!"

The crowd erupted into cheers, the name instantly recognizable. Hailey's heart pounded in her chest as she and Mark walked out onto the stage together, the bright lights nearly blinding her as they stepped into the spotlight. The roar of the crowd was deafening, the energy almost overwhelming, but Hailey focused on the feel of the microphone in her hand, the presence of Mark by her side, and the familiar sensation of stepping onto a stage.

Despite her nerves, Hailey knew there was no backing down now. Mark gave her a reassuring nod as he adjusted the guitar in his hands, and she took a deep breath, tuning out everything else but the music.

With a confident strum, Mark began to play, the rich sound of the guitar filling the air. The crowd fell into a hushed anticipation, waiting for Hailey to start. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the music guide her, before opening them and stepping up to the microphone.

As the first few notes of the song filled the festival grounds, Hailey's voice cut through the night air, clear and powerful. She sang the opening lines of "Plenty of Fish," the lyrics flowing effortlessly as if they had always been a part of her. The song, filled with symbolism and emotion, resonated deeply, capturing the attention of everyone in the audience. The crowd, once noisy and restless, was now completely captivated, their eyes fixed on Hailey as she poured her heart into the performance.

Mark's guitar playing complemented her vocals perfectly, the two of them creating a synergy on stage that felt both effortless and electric. As they continued through the song, Hailey's initial nerves melted away, replaced by a deep sense of purpose and fulfillment. This was what she was meant to do—sing, perform, and connect with people through her music.

The song reached its crescendo, the final notes ringing out into the night as Hailey and Mark brought the performance to a close. For a moment, there was a stunned silence, the crowd absorbing what they had just witnessed. Then, like a wave crashing onto the shore, the applause erupted, cheers and whistles filling the air as the audience showed their appreciation.

Hailey stood on the stage, breathing heavily but with a wide smile on her face, the adrenaline still pumping through her veins. She glanced over at Mark, who gave her a thumbs-up, his own expression one of pride and satisfaction.

As the final notes of Hailey's performance echoed through the night, she basked in the afterglow of the applause, her heart swelling with a mix of pride and relief. The crowd slowly dispersed, but the buzz of excitement still hung in the air. As she stepped off the stage, her face still flushed with the adrenaline of performing, she was approached by a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes and an air of authority.

"Excuse me, Miss Rocco," the woman said, her tone professional yet warm. "My name is Claire Hastings. I'm a talent scout, and I was absolutely blown away by your performance tonight."

Hailey blinked in surprise, still catching her breath. "Thank you," she replied, her voice a little shaky.

Claire smiled, clearly pleased with Hailey's response. "I've been in this industry for a long time, and let me tell you, talent like yours doesn't come around often. I'd like to discuss bringing you back into the music industry—on your terms, of course. We can set up a meeting with some top producers, get you back in the studio. What do you say?"

Before Hailey could respond, she felt a pat on her back. She turned to see Mark standing beside her, his usual calm demeanor tinged with a hint of pride. "Congratulations, Hailey," he said with a nod, his voice low and sincere. "You did great out there."

Hailey smiled, feeling a warmth in her chest at his words. But before she could say anything, Mark gave her a brief, almost imperceptible nod, then turned and walked away, leaving her alone with Claire. He understood that this was Hailey's moment—a chance for her to seize the opportunity she had been waiting for.

As Mark walked away, Hailey's eyes followed him, a mix of emotions swirling inside her. Claire's voice brought her back to the present.

"So, what do you think, Hailey? Are you ready to get back out there?"

Later that night, the excitement of the festival still buzzing in the air, Mark sat on the porch of the house he lives in, strumming his guitar. The familiar notes of an old tune filled the quiet night, his fingers moving instinctively over the strings. The festival had been an exhilarating experience, but now that it was over, Mark was content to return to the peace and solitude of his small-town life.

Just as he was about to lose himself in the music, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. He looked up to see Hailey walking towards him, her expression unreadable in the dim light. Mark raised an eyebrow, surprised to see her there.

"What are you still doing here?" he asked, setting his guitar aside. "Shouldn't you be packing your bags and heading off to start your music career again?"

Hailey took a deep breath, standing before him with a quiet determination in her eyes. "I turned down the offer," she admitted, her voice steady.

Mark's eyes widened in surprise. "Why?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Hailey sighed, her gaze drifting out to the darkened street. "Because I don't want to work with people who don't have my best interests in mind. I've been there before—greedy fat cats controlling my every move. That's not the life I want anymore."

Mark nodded slowly, understanding the weight of her decision. There was a long pause as the two of them sat in the quiet of the night, the only sound being the faint strumming of Mark's guitar.

"So, what now?" Mark finally asked. "Are you going to quit music?"

Hailey shook her head, a determined glint in her eye. "No. I'm going to start my own label. It's going to be challenging, but you've taught me that I can achieve my goals if I really want to. I don't need to rely on anyone else to make my dreams come true."

Mark studied her for a moment, seeing the resolve in her expression. He admired her courage, her willingness to forge her own path. "That's a tough road," he said, his tone serious.

Hailey nodded. "I know. But I'm ready for it."

There was another pause, the air thick with unspoken possibilities. Hailey then turned to him, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and determination. "Mark," she began, hesitating slightly before continuing, "would you consider working as my manager?"

Mark blinked, taken aback by the unexpected offer. "Your manager?" he repeated, as if the words were foreign to him. "Did you hit your head on your way here? I don't know the first thing about being a manager."

Hailey smiled, her confidence reassuring. "I'll teach you. You know me better than anyone else. You've supported me when I needed it the most. I can't think of anyone better to help me build this new chapter of my life."

Mark considered her words, his mind racing as he weighed the possibilities. The idea of becoming a manager seemed completely out of his realm, yet there was something undeniably appealing about the prospect of continuing to work with Hailey—of helping her succeed on her own terms.

Finally, he nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Alright," he said, his voice firm. "But on one condition."

Hailey raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What's that?"

Mark leaned forward, his eyes glinting with a mix of seriousness and humor. "Only if I can get on stage with you and play my guitar. I don't want to be just a guy in a suit. I want to play."

Hailey's face broke into a wide grin, relief and joy flooding through her. "Deal," she said, reaching out to shake his hand. "Thank you, Mark. For everything."

As they sealed the agreement with a handshake, Hailey felt a new sense of purpose settling within her. The road ahead was uncertain, but with Mark by her side, she knew she could face whatever challenges came their way. Together, they would carve out a new path—one built on their own terms, fueled by their passion for music and their unwavering determination to succeed.

And with that, the night felt full of possibilities, the future wide open before them.