And maybe she was the only one in the room feeling that.  But wasn’t that what made art so beautiful in the first place?  She could stand in one place and experience the same thing as a hundred other people, and everyone would come out of it with something different.  She felt like she was soaring, and the world was flying beneath her feet.  Brennan’s smooth voice was music to her ears, and music brought her home.

When the song ended, Devon realized her eyes were closed, and she slowly opened them.  As her vision adjusted to the dim lighting, she focused down on Brennan.

What are you doing to me? she wondered.

The crowd cheered, and Devon followed, clapping her hands hard.

“He’s good, right?” Garrett leaned over, so Devon could hear him.

“Yeah!  Wow!” she said, wearing the biggest smile on her face since she had been in Chicago.

“You should have come to his last performance.  The audience gave him a standing ovation at the end.  I don’t know what it is about the guy, but everyone goes nuts for his music.  Hadley even cried at the end of his last show, and he only played for like fifteen minutes,” Garrett told her.

“He’s good.  I should know,” she said with a laugh.  “I know music.”

“You should pitch him to the people you know,” Garrett suggested.

Devon wrinkled her nose.  “I don’t know people, except for my parents.”

“I’m sure you can think of someone,” Garrett prodded.  “His music made you smile brighter than you have since you got here.  Anything that can put that pretty smile on your face should be playing on the radio.”

Devon blushed at his words.  “Thanks,” she said, staring back down at Brennan.

She probably did know someone.  Most of her contacts were with country music, and he clearly didn’t sing country.  In any case, she could likely get him an in…if that was what he wanted.  It would be something worth thinking about…maybe.

Before she could think about it any further, he started the next song.  The next two were ones that Garrett knew from previous shows.  He told her that Brennan normally added a couple originals in here and there among the covers he did.  Garrett had never been to a gig where Brennan did all originals.  Devon couldn’t imagine the show any other way.  No one else’s music would have felt right.

As Brennan’s short set drew to a close, Devon found she didn’t want it to end.  How could it be so close to being over already?  It felt like he had just started.

“I want to thank you all again for coming out.  This is my last song for the night, and it’s kind of personal to me.  It’s about loss, pain, and silence…about how hope blossoms in the smallest of packages and in the least likely of circumstances.  This one is titled ‘Moving Forward’,” he said into the microphone, his eyes seemingly finding her in the crowd.

As he played the first few chords, his eyes never strayed from her.  She wasn’t even close to the stage, but he seemed to know right where she was.  Amy and Hannah sighed heavily next to her.

As soon as the lyrics started flowing from his mouth, Devon could tell the song was different from the others…more personal.  She hadn’t thought it possible, but this song was better suited to him than the others.  He couldn’t have described the lyrics any better than in his introduction.

She felt like her heart was breaking as he sang about a loss she could understand.  She felt a stabbing sensation in her body as she experienced his pain.  The words made her feel like she wasn’t alone with the dreaded silence from which she suffered.  And finally, she could feel her heart being stitched together.  The needle wasn’t gentle, and the thread would heal the wounds in time, but there was hope that the scars would heal.

When the song came to a close, Devon felt tears welling in her eyes.  The song was painful.  It actually caused her physical discomfort to even hear it, but that made it even better.  People who had ever willed themselves to silence needed the hope from Brennan’s song.  Maybe it would help mend their hearts, too.

Brennan stood as the house came down with applause.  People were on their feet.  Some people were swiping at their eyes from the emotional song.  But Brennan never broke eye contact with Devon, and her eyes never left his gaze until he was ushered offstage for the next performer.  That poor soul.

“I don’t know how he does it,” Garrett said, nudging Devon lightly.  “Look, you’re even crying.  I thought we talked about this.  No more crying from you.”

Devon laughed through her tears and sniffled.  “Right.  Right.  No more crying,” she said, wiping under her eyes.

“If I had a voice like that and could play guitar, I could bag so many girls,” Garrett said with a fake dumb expression on his face, making fun of all the guys who actually talked like that.

“I’m sure he does,” Devon said, laughing softly at his joke.

If Brennan’s advances toward Devon were any indication, he was surely getting exactly who and what he wanted.

“Who?  Brennan?” Garrett asked incredulously.  “No way.  That guy is a saint.  Girls are magnets for musicians, and he manages to fend them off like a lion tamer.”

“No way is he a saint,” Devon said, rolling her eyes.  “I don’t believe it.  Half the girls at work like him.”

“Well, you ask him then,” Garrett said with a shrug.  “I’ve known a lot of guys with musician complexes.  He doesn’t have one.”

“Oh, you’ve known guys with musician complexes?” Devon asked, again rolling her eyes to the ceiling.  They could never compare to what she had seen.

“All I’m saying is that Brennan could sleep with any girl here tonight, and he won’t bring any one of them home.  At least, I’ve never seen him do it.”

But he brought me home, she thought.  She wasn’t going to stick around to find out if it would happen with someone else.

She could see Brennan backstage now, sliding his button-up back on.  Soon, he would be back at their table.  She couldn’t face him.  That song had struck home.  The lyrics were so personal and so touching that she felt like he had spoken directly to her.  It was as if she had opened up her notebook filled with lyrics and let him read the pages with her heart laid bare in the words.  She was the one moving forward, pushing through the pain to find herself once more.  And it was then that she felt like the final song had been about her, like it had been written for her.  She couldn’t prove it, and she didn’t want to.  She couldn’t get more entangled in him than she already was even if Garrett said he wouldn’t make a move…another move.

She would be interested in pursuing her little sliver of hope but not under these circumstances.  It wouldn’t be fair to him, or her, or Reid.

She needed to leave before she did something stupid.

“I’m actually not feeling all that well, Garrett.”  Devon put her hand on her forehead again.  “I wanted to see Brennan’s show, but I think we should probably go.  I’ll see him at work this week, and I’ll talk to him there.”

“You sure?” Garrett asked, clearly confused.

“Yeah, I’m ready to go home,” Devon said, feeling like that wasn’t an appropriate name for the apartment she was living in.

She had found her home in Brennan’s music.

“FUCK,” DEVON CRIED, impatiently tapping her pen back and forth on her leg on the train.

An old lady sitting down near Devon glared at her.  Devon didn’t have the patience for it right now.  She was late for work.  It was the first time she had ever been late.  What made it worse was she knew that Jenn was going to be in today.