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photo of the tents around us. "Amber might not have taken that leap as a performer if she hadn’t worked on her anorexia first."

I nod. She stretches her arm and takes my photo.

"Same goes for me," she says, showing me my candid photo. I take the camera from her and tinker around with it. "I was at my second Gramophones gig—I discovered them then—when I met Ella. It was also around that time that I learned I was adopted. If it weren’t for her support and a few other friends, who knows how I might have coped? That’s when I realised how important it is to have a positive and supportive community. I’d met her at one of those secret gigs. I wanted to give others the chance to find their support group within the music community."

Cassie’s eyes are wide with excitement. Not knowing if I have the right settings, I snap a photo of her. She smiles as I hand her back her camera. She hangs it on her neck.

"Ella can’t have been your only mate at that time?" I ask. "You don’t talk much about your other friends."

"They were all busy starting University in different cities. It was hard to get us together like in College, but the people I found through music—they understood me."

I take her hand and squeeze it tight. "Thank you for starting this organisation."

"It’s a team effort."

"Have you ever thought about doing this full-time?" I ask, necking down my drink.

"Lately, yes, especially now we’ve got Ear for Music…"

I wait for her to continue.

"There's no way I can't commit to doing that full-time," Cassie says after a thoughtful silence. "That doesn’t mean I’m giving up on my dream of one day having my own gallery show."

"Can you do both?"

"Everything doesn’t have to happen at all once," she says.

"Right time and place?"

"Exactly."

"You really sound like Ella!"

She responds with laughter.

"And I think…sometimes I’m starting to sound like you lot, too."

When I tell her that we should get going if we want to catch the first act—I share my picks with her—I’m surprised when she says, "I don’t know half those bands, but, ah, take me with you."

Thunder rolls in the background as I take her hand. Despite the hovering dark clouds, the vibe around us reflects the opposite. Lots of excited chatter fills the air. Hollers and hoots echo, and a surge of warm energy surrounds me. No matter what else happens this weekend, I am grateful to be here, in the now. We dive headfirst into the mosh pit.

Three hours and four bands later, we head towards the food trucks and liquor station.

"I should make you The Hush Society’s talent scout," Cassie says, nudging my ribs as we walk uphill.

"I was a radio jock," I brag and give her a cheeky smile. "Comes with the job."

"How long were you a radio jock?"

"Almost a year, but I was always at the station a lot before that. I guess they'd gotten used to my antics and decided they'd pay me for it." Our shoulders bump against each other as we continue our ascent. The food trucks come into view.

She laughs. "Why'd you quit that stellar job for music then?"

"Ha!"

She flashes me a wicked grin and we stop to queue.

"I'm glad I quit my job at the factory though. That I didn't enjoy, but it paid well."  I pat the pocket where my wallet is.

"Real question: why'd you take it in the first place?" She says, pulling out money from her colorful sling bag.

"We needed the extra cash, y'know? Figured if I at least had a job that paid well, it would help out at home. And it did."

"Wow." She gives me a tender look. "I can't imagine having to do something like that."

"But I'm certain you would have, had you been under similar circumstances."

She blushes. "You've such a high regard for my character, Cameron." I wink at her and she giggles. "I wonder if you'd known me when I found out I was adopted if you'd say the same."

"What, you were a rich, spoiled brat?"

She slaps my arm and pushes me away.

"I never did get that vibe from you either," I continue. "I like that you're grounded and you work hard to help others." We move a few inches closer to the front of the queue.

"Stop making me seem so heroic. I'm human."

"An incredible one," I say. "How did you find out anyway?"

"They just told me one day. Out of the blue. I never really thought much about the possibility of being adopted. I looked like them, but sometimes, things felt off. Just thought it was puberty at its finest." Cassie says, looking me straight in the eye.

"Dang." The queue moves slowly.

"I questioned everything after that and even ran away for a while."

"You what?" I stop in my tracks.

"Not your typical wild-gal party, angsty-type reaction at all," Cassie says, nudging me forward. There’s a huge gap from those queuing in front of us. "I think they expected me to react that way, but I ran away and stayed with my mates for a while. I needed space from them and then I realised how lucky I was to have been adopted instead of growing up alone. It hurt a lot they'd never told me and I couldn't fathom asking about my real parents and why they'd given me up. I told them I wasn't ready to know that yet and they haven't said a word about it since. That really made me appreciate them more and the value of family, even if we're not tied through blood. They chose me and, in a way, that's a special kind of love."

Guilt creeps in as I think about my selfish choices. I abandoned my family at a time they probably needed me most. "Man, I'm such a prick." I let go of the worry that she'll judge me because I know I don't have to impress her in that way. I'm resigned to the fact that maybe all we'll be is mates, so I tell her about

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