Jacob was transported to his own safe place just then, a place he sometimes forgot about until he was in the moment again, a place that consisted of just him and his music. He flipped the guitar around to his front and didn’t even bother to glance at John Paul before he played the first chord, so great was the history and trust between the two boys of shared gigs and tunes. Nothing bothered him then, and he forced himself to ponder that if he had to, if he absolutely had to, he could do without Annie – or Jessie – in his life. Because he had something many people didn’t – an outlet for his pain, a wall to shield the hurts, his own safe place to hide. And he knew she had that too.
It was called music, and for this night it was his and his alone, regardless of how many people were out there staring death rays at him, or on this stage helping him find the perfect sound to elevate his poignant lyrics.
As he disappeared into the only place in the world where he felt truly protected, without the expressive eyes of his girl urging him on towards greatness, trusting him, Jacob closed his baby blues and let the music come. His world was safe now, and he could go on eternally this way, if only moments like these could last forever.
As Jacob surrendered to the music, the catcalling stopped. Women in the front row speculated about how they could meet the sexy guy in the yellow shirt and black cowboy boots with the sultry, husky voice.
Above, Spot Bob watched with wonder, and bathed the boy in light.
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