When he and Allison had written together, the process had moved faster because she’d always pushed him, forcing the lyrics even when he’d wanted time to let the music settle into his bones. She’d been the one to keep abreast of what was on the charts, casting their songs into a popular mold to produce something commercial and catchy. He could hardly complain about the method—it had earned the band two platinum singles and a bestselling album and a slew of awards after all—but he’d never enjoyed it and he’d never believed in it.
He sat with the realization for a moment, examining it from all sides and understanding that it was a fundamental truth, something that had come straight from his gut. Allison had always been about success first and the music second.
The music is my external heart
