Mine Alone
Instead, I fixed my eyes on the piano, on the keys, on anything that wasn’t the door Drake had just walked through.
“Let’s try that again,” Smith continued. “From the top. This time, feel it more. Don’t just sing it, own it.”
Own it?
Funny how that word lingered and sounded familiar in a sudden way.
I took a slow breath, letting it settle deep in my chest before I began again. My voice came out softer this time, but steadier. It was more controlled, like I was trying to prove something not just to Smith, but to myself.
Halfway through, I felt it again.
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