Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Noah Clark, the lead singer/songwriter for the rock band Black Phoenix. Perhaps you’ve heard of us. About ten years ago we topped the Billboard charts—a multi-platinum band whose last album was the most successful of its century. But that was before everything went to shit. Back before the sex, alcohol, and rock and roll took away my best friend and drummer, Danny Treybourne. Afterwards, I gave up the lifestyle, the world tours, hell, I gave up the band. I headed back home to London and committed myself to leading a normal life, one without music as its driving force.
For ten years, I was miserable.
So I’m back to making music. I crossed the pond, settled in a place called Auburn, California and began the preparations to reunite Black Phoenix. We hired a new drummer, set up a meeting with the record company, and I went in search of a private, reputable studio to record a demo. I found one in Long Island City, just up the road from a pub named Izzy’s Bar. Where one night, after midnight, I wandered in and set eyes on its namesake.
Damn…Isabeau Montgomery, child prodigy pianist, hiding behind a lie of her own making. She has the most pale, haunted eyes I’ve ever seen, and dark, golden skin. The first time she set those eyes on me and smiled, I was lost. I’m a songwriter, but the way she affected me, I haven’t words.
A detail about me you should know, I was born with a one track mind. I want something; I go out and get it. From the moment I first laid eyes on Isa I wanted her. I wanted to show her what she was missing, ignoring her music the way she did. I wanted to share with her everything I spent all those years figuring out: Denying who you are is nothing but a waste of time, time a person can never get back. Problem is my one track mind got me in trouble. I became so focused on saving her from herself, I didn’t see the whole picture. I pushed her too hard. And in the end, I pushed her away.
Hopefully, one day she’ll forgive me for being such an ass, because Isabeau…Isa completes me.
In a way even my music never could.