The only way this could be more perfect is if Lucas North were here. This wasn’t the first time I had this thought and I know it won’t be the last. The 2026 Grammy Awards are complete. All the campaigning, interviews, branded tiktok trends, fittings and phone calls had been worth it. Tonight I walked away with two awards and my name in the music history books. After a day of being too busy to think, I now find myself sitting alone in my hotel room. It’s been the most important night of my career, but yet I only wish I was in the small North Carolina town where I was so desperate to run away from.
The day started like I knew it would. My team had every minute planned out so there would be no second guessing or frankly time to start overthinking. It started with a light breakfast, followed by a lymphatic drainage massage, sound check for the night's performance and finally a sprint to pluck, tease, smooth, buff and quite literally mold me into the pop star we created together. By the time I got to the carpet I was so overstimulated from the day. I’m laced up in the most gorgeous custom Schiaparelli gown. The corset running down my back to the floor is meant to mimic the strings on my signature violin. Though it was nearly impossible to sit in, I must say I actually feel like a real bonafide pop star.
I made it to my seat and took a deep breath. Just make it to your performance, my inner voice says. An hour later I have my violin tucked under my chin and Joshua Bell is talking about how my debut album is “groundbreaking” and blends the classical and pop worlds. The lights hit my face and I feel like the best version of myself. My hands fly over my violin strings as I start to play and pick up the tempo. My voice is clear and bright and I can tell the starry front row of celebs are dancing and singing along. Even if I didn’t win awards, just this moment would have been worth all the sacrifice. I make it back to my seat and look at my phone. None of my family could make it to tonight's event due to my niece’s birthday, but my notifications are lighting up our group chat with love and support. While I miss them terribly I don’t mind it too much because I know they are all watching from the Grammy viewing party happening in the Hope Gap town square. At the end of the show I’m awarded the Best New Artist Grammy from Chappell Roan and the congratulations start again.
I’m now sitting, the opposite of that girl, on a massive couch at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel in Los Angeles. All the makeup gone, the hair unteased and it’s nothing but me and my instrument cased in the corner. All pjs and high ponies. I love my team, I really do, but now that I’m all alone the insecurities creep in and I’m desperate for a moment that feels like “me.” When all the shine is rubbed away a 25 year old teenage girl from Hope Gap, North Carolina remains. I wish my family was here, I wish my sister wasn’t already asleep and the ache for familiarity I felt digitally now settles into my soul.
My therapist and I have worked on ways to get out of a spiraling funk like this and I pull up a note on my phone called “Girl, You’re Gonna Be Fine. Get It Together” aka a functional list of my top ways to recenter.
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Play Christmas Music on my violin
Gross, no thank you
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Make a pot of coffee and write a new song
Nope, I haven’t been able to write for months since my first album came out.
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Practice a yoga video on YouTube
After three martinis, absolutely not.
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Listen to a favorite album start to finish.
This one would have to do.
I open the music app on my phone and search Death Cab for Cutie. While Transatlanicism will always hold a special place in my heart, tonight calls for Plans their album following that 2003 masterpiece. I queue up the first song “Marching Bands of Manhattan” and my head goes to a quiet place. What’s always drawn me to music is the safe places it can take you. From my childhood bedroom, a Julliard dorm, to the ultra lavish couch I’m currently sitting on, it’s in the music that I find calm. My mind finds that quiet place by the first chorus and it begins to wonder what exactly Lucas was doing right then. Does he ever think of me the way I do him? Did he watch the broadcast at the town square viewing party? What would happen if he was with me now?
By the time I get to track “Different Names for the Same Thing” I’ve entered that delicious pause in reality only music can bring. It’s like reality has quieted to make you more aware of lyrics you’ve heard a million times. I hear a knock at my hotel room door and go to open it. Standing in front of me is Lucas North. He’s wearing dark jeans, a dark grey henley and a pair of Blunstone boots that have definitely seen better days. He looks so… not L.A. which I admit is an instant turn on.
“Congratualtions, Marceline” he says still standing in the hallway outside my door. “I was in town and I had to celebrate in person.” I’m in shock staring like an absolute moron before he goes, “sorry, can I come in?” After picking my jaw off the floor I exclaim “Yes! Yes absolutely thank you! What are you doing here?”
“I’m in L.A. for work and got a call from your sister while I was at dinner. Eloise called me about a shop question and shared the news of your big night. She told me I should stop by your hotel since you didn’t have any family in town to celebrate,” Lucas admits after stepping in the room.
Of course leave it to my sister to send an invite on my behalf. She told me she was helping Lucas with numbers and expenses for his new coffee shop when I facetimed her and my niece Clara earlier in the week. What she didn’t tell me was how gorgeous Lucas North had become in the past decade of leaving town. He’s always been tall, but now he’s clearly strong from years out on his own, going to school abroad and returning to our hometown to open his own business.
“Thank you for stopping by,” I say as casually as possible. I forgot how big he was. He towers over me in an endearing way in the small entryway of my hotel suite. “Come on in, I was just listening to music.” I run to grab my phone and try to change the song before he realizes what a sad and nostalgic mood I’m in.
“Is this, Death Cab?” he asks. Damnit, so close.
“Yeah, yeah it is.” I cringe as I turn around to him. He gives me a look and his boyband level floppy hair falls into his right evy. It’s like he knows exactly what I’m thinking and I’m afraid he does. Afterall, he was the person who introduced me to this music in the first place. “Leave it on,” he says. At that moment “I Will Follow You Into the Dark” starts playing and I officially want to die. I want to indeed find that dark place and fall into it to get away from this moment of music vulnerability. The lyrics are feeling like a promise and ignite the yearning I’ve had for this man since I was a teenager.
We both end up sitting on the couch turning towards each other. “So what’s it like being a Grammy winner?” he asks unexpectedly and breaks the tension. I instantly snort a laugh which gets us both giggling. At that moment I’m so happy he’s here and send a mental thank you to my sister. I’m able to relax a little in my heart even if my entire body is on edge. “Um, it’s great” I say. “I totally would recommend it.” I look up from my lap and he’s staring at me. “How’s the new job in Hope Gap?” I ask and glance up. “It’s great, so far so good, the community support has been great,” he says. Clearly that’s all I’m going to get based on how he’s looking at me. I make a mental note to follow up with Eloise on how things are really going. “So what brings you to L.A?” I ask, trying to break this tension that is building back up between us. He replies with something about a coffee conference, but all I can focus on are his lips animatedly talking about bean roasting techniques. His arm that is now laid atop the back of the couch and his fingers slowly brushing the top of my shoulder. My body starts to relax and a familiar spark travels down my arm as I break my stare and look down at my ringing hands. “How long are you in town?” Lucas asks. I snap my head back up and realize he’s moved so much closer in the time I looked down. I nervously laugh again replying “My flight back to New York leaves at noon tomorrow.” “Good,” he continues, “We have plenty of time to catch up.”
Just then “Someday You Will Be Loved” starts playing and our eyes lock together. He leans in first and my mouth answers immediately with the heat and yearning I’ve built up since I was a teenager. Holy shit this is actually happening. I internally scream as our lips lock together. He kisses me a little hesitant at first, like seeing if we speak the same language. When I open my mouth to invite in his tongue he gets the hint and it feels like someone raises the volume on any expectation I’ve ever dreamed. He grabs my waist and pulls me on top of him, never breaking the kiss. I’m straddled across his lap and everything takes a pause when we just look at each other dreamily.
“You’ll be loved, you’ll be loved” registered in my ears and I’m afraid the moment will break if I try to think rationally right now. This time I lean down and capture his lips to mine. I’m hungry, starved even, and lap my tongue into his mouth before focusing my attention with a soft bite on his lower lip. This feels right, it feels correct, but we’re still playing safe.I want to show him I’m not breakable, to take more from me and to use his strong hands all over my body. I angle my head to the right and in return he moves his mouth to the side of my neck that sends streaks of heat down my body. It’s then that I register I’ve been grinding on his lap while his hands are locked on my waist telling me to slow down. We have a shared rhythm as our bodies get as close as they can while clothed. My body immediately reacts, my heart sets a steady bass beat and we become like dance partners. He leads the pace and the rhythm while I suddenly process how hard he feels underneath me. I savor the feeling of want and heat and potential as my subconscious also thanks my team for the dance lessons they forced me into before for my last tour.
Lucas’s hand grabs for my ponytail and locks me back to his mouth. Maybe it's because we grew up around each other for our entire lives, but he knows I’m tough and that I don’t break easily. He senses I like to be controlled, to have my hair pulled in a certain way and that I can handle whatever he’s about to throw at me. The music in the background is speeding up and so is our urgency. Still across his lap I grab the edges of my oversized tee and throw it over my head. I’ve never felt so lusted after as Lucas becomes eye level with my bare breasts, he looks at me like I’m something to be eaten before his eyes come up to mine in question. With a simple nod from me, he captures my nipple in his mouth and proceeds to bite just hard enough I let out the moan that’s been trapped inside since he entered the room. His other hand claps my other breast and I abandon any sexy, sultry pace I was trying to keep with my hips. I’ve transformed into the girl I’ve always wanted to be with him and I’ve yet to even touch him. I grab his hand that’s still trapped around my waist and urge it into the front of my pajama shorts. At the explicit invitation he happily obliges and pulls my underwear aside to find how wet I’ve become in the past few minutes. At the discovery he stops his focus on my chest, begins to slowly stroke my entrance and our eyes lock in another moment of dreamy slowness like neither of us can believe what is happening. After a long time of just staring and stroking he abruptly pushes a finger inside me and I cry out. I haven’t had sex in over a year and the stretch matched with the smug grin that’s appeared on his face almost causes me to come instantly. His thumb finds my clit and with a moan I start rocking my hips against him as he pulls my neck down to his mouth and whispers the sweetest encouragement in my ear. “I’ve got you Marce, let me have it, take whatever you want” as I ride his hand and my mind and body enters that plane of tightness, pressure and small explosions of pleasure in anticipation of truly letting go.
My brain registers the lyrics “I know I got a bad reputation” from somewhere in the room. I’m chasing the feeling of Lucas underneath me and inside me about to give me my release when the room becomes in focus. I’m alone, on the couch and I was only dreaming of the grownup, sexy Lucas North in my hotel room. It was just a memory in my head set to the soundtrack of shared memories. The last notes of “Bad Reputation” fade away and the record has played out just like my fantasy. Frustrated beyond words I pull out my phone and book a flight home in December. Maybe the Lucas in my dreams won’t be in Hope Gap, but at least I know the real person will be…
