Never Ending by Kailin Gow

ethnomusicologist. But right now, you're my
priority. And if that means being Clarence Blue's only son, then I'll do that.
But I won't be defined by that.”
              “You're so much
more than just Clarence Blue's son,” I said. “You're your own person. And Blues
Records – that's you, that's not your dad...”
              “I know,” Danny
said. “Believe me, I know. For the first time in my life, I feel like myself.
With you. I'm doing this for you. Because you're not the girl Clarence Blue
chose for me. You're mine and I'm yours. I chose you.  Being with you – it's
the first time anything really feels like mine, and not my father's.” He swallowed.
“I'm so afraid to lose you, Neve...” he said.  “And I can't let that go. Not
ever.”
              “Never ever,” I
said, smiling.
              “Now,” Danny
said. “Never ever, my darling, my love. I think there's something we've both
been missing.” With that, he leaned in, enveloping me in a kiss that sent me
reeling. He took my hand and led me inside the cottage. It looked just as I
remembered it – I felt a pang as I remembered the first time we'd kissed, the
first time we'd undressed each other, in this very room.
              He led me through
the house and out the back door, onto the terrace, which overlooked the sea.
              “I want to do it
with you out here,” he whispered.
              Our love-making
was passionate, desperate as ever. But this time, it was slower. Softer. More
tender. As if there was something more than mere desire motivating us. As the
moonlight washed over us, as our bodies moved together, as his breaths got
shallower and shallower, louder and louder, as he moved within me, I had never
felt happier, more content.
              “I love you,” he
told me, kissing me so, so softly. “You have no idea how much I love you. You
mean the world to me.”
              Finally, I
believed him. Finally, I let my defenses fall – the last few defenses, the last
fears. I let myself love him wildly, wholeheartedly, without reservation. I
trusted him, now, completely. And I knew he would not hurt me again. I knew
that at last, at last, I was free of the heartbreak, free of the worry. I could
let myself love him at last.
              And I fell in
love with him – deeper and more truly than I ever thought possible.
              From that day
onwards our relationship seemed to take a more serious turn. I moved out of the
studio apartment I lived in, and Danny and I moved back into the cottage.
Together – like a real household. We cooked together – we even cleaned together
– we lived a life of domesticity side by side with our rock star days. In the
rehearsal room, we sang about groupies, about nightclubs, about sex. But we
went home to each other. We took two cars to avoid rousing suspicion – I didn't
want to tell Luc or Kyle about us just yet – but for all other intents and
purposes we operated as one-hit-won I even introduced him to my father,
something I'd almost been dreading. My father had spent his whole life telling
me to stay away from rock star boys: and now I was living with one. But to my
surprise, Danny and my father hit it off brilliantly.
              They traded
jokes, stories, and anecdotes. They compared their favorite musicians, their
favorite albums. They traded notes on playing, techniques, and songwriting.
They had a mock-argument about whether Goth was a subgenre of postpunk or not.
It didn't hurt that Danny Blue had been a huge fan of my dad's growing up – and
that he knew every single album the Knights had ever recorded, including
obscure bootlegs. Flattery will get you anywhere, they say, but sincere
flattery is the best kind, and Danny's flattery was 100% sincere.
              But the moment I
knew that my father had decided that Danny Blue was acceptable was the moment
he took out his