Page 47 of Midnight Stage

“Fuck,” Rock grunts, the two guys knowing clear as day that this is a message for Rae. If she thinks she can get through this without hearing our songs and taking in the lyrics I slaved over for her, she’s got another thing coming.

Keeping my gaze locked on Rae through the office window, I prepare myself for the start of the song. Rock slams against the drums for the killer intro of “Cold Hearted Bitch” and Rae jumps in surprise, her head snapping up as the crack in the door makes her little soundproof office not so peaceful anymore.

She stands, probably to close the door properly, but as she crosses the office and reaches for the door, the lyrics come in, and I sing them with every raw, pain-filled emotion coursing through my veins.

Her gaze snaps to mine, and I don’t dare look away as she becomes my captive, mesmerized by my words, my voice, or maybe it’s the raw anger in my tone. I don’t know what’s drawing her in, but for as long as I have her attention, I’ll continue to sing.

This song was written at a low point in my life. I was missing her, and after realizing the wedge I’d forced between us was destroying both of us, I was angry. Hell, I’ve been angry for a long fucking time, and after hearing from Ax that she didn’t want anything to do with me, I took my pen and wrote down the ugliness of the excruciating emotions that plagued me.

She didn’t deserve this song, and after it had already been recorded and released, I’d started to regret ever writing it. But right now, I can’t help but feel that same hurt. Feel the agony of the realization that she’s no longer mine and hasn’t been for years.

That girl who laid across her bed and stared over my shoulder as I wrote down every last emotion that coursed through my body no longer exists. I broke her. I made her cold and closed off, and in leaving her behind, in abandoning her back in Michigan, I abandoned myself.

As the words flow out of me, Rae continues to watch, and as a single tear rolls down her cheek, my anger only deepens, but not because of her. Because of me. I had this chance to do something real, to dive deep and sing something that actually holds weight, something that has the power to heal both of us, and instead, I chose to be a fucking petty, butthurt asshole.

Great move on my part.

The song comes to an end, and as the boys start moving around and putting their guitars down, Rae and I remain locked in position, her gaze singeing me from the inside out. A million messages pass between us as that old connection flickers back to life, only it’s not the same.

We always had a connection, an invisible string that tied us together, and whenever she was in the room, I felt it pulse to life, glowing the most radiant golden hues. Even a million miles apart, it was still there, lying dormant, waiting for her to bring it back to life. Even after all these years, it was never severed, but now, it no longer pulses with golden light and love. It’s cold and hard, flickering with profound darkness, and it fucking kills me.

The heaviness of her pain weighs down on me, and giving her just a fraction of respite, I finally lower my gaze, releasing her from my hold. She doesn’t skip a beat, grabbing her new laptop and taking off, and all I can do is watch as the other half of my soul turns her back and walks away.

17

Raleigh

Ezra fucking Knight can go and fuck himself for all I care. ‘Cold Hearted Bitch.’ Is he for real? More like ‘Cold Hearted Asshole.’ I’m not the one who walked away. I’m not the one who left me behind. I’m not the one who tore his heart into a million little pieces then trampled all over them while living up the rockstar lifestyle.

He’s an ass. There’s no other way to put it.

He purposefully set out to hurt me today, and I’ve never wanted to nut-punch him harder. But I get it, he’s going through the motions. Seeing me again and suddenly having me on his tour . . . There’s a lot for him to process. Not to mention, having me around is an almost certain reminder of Axel, and I’m sure that can’t be easy. But it’s not easy for me either, and he sure as fuck doesn’t need to be going out of his way to try and make it harder.

I’m not here for him, despite how everybody was trying to sell me on it. I’m here for me.

I’m here because returning to Michigan isn’t an option.

I’m here because I was drowning in my old life.

I’m here because I deserve this, and this job is everything I worked all those years for.

I’m here because despite how much pain I feel inside my soul, I need my family more than I ever have before, and as much as I hate it, Ezra is part of that family. Hell, he’s my whole damn home.

Fuck. Just thinking about it gets me all worked up.

After taking off from the studio, I made my way through Ezra’s home. I didn’t want to leave in case Lenny wanted to look over the work I’d done, and after looking over their current marketing plan for this tour, it seems there is a lot more work for me to do than I anticipated, but I’m more than up for the job.

I spent at least twenty minutes snooping around his ridiculously massive home before pushing through a door, only to find myself in his bedroom, and while I knew it was risky being in there, I could smell him all around me, and the strangest peace settled into my chest.

Call me unprofessional if you must, but I sat on his bed, pulled my new laptop onto my knees, and got stuck into my work. Minutes turned into hours, and before I knew it, it was already after eight and my stomach was pissed.

I called my driver and took off. I’d already been in there long enough, and the last thing I needed was Ezra to walk in and find me in his bed. I’m sure that would have gone down well. We leave for Europe first thing in the morning, and I’m sure he’s going to want an early night after spending all day finalizing everything for the tour, which I can already tell is going to be amazing.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve made a point not to see them perform on tour, and while a part of me is terrified by what I’ll hear in Ezra’s lyrics, there’s no denying that it’s going to be the biggest rush I’ll ever experience. I just hate that I was too stubborn to have pulled myself together long enough to see Axel perform on tour. It’s always been one of my greatest regrets, but I’m sure wherever he is in his afterlife, he always knew how much I supported him and wanted him to achieve everything he set his mind to.

After returning to the hotel, the guy running the valet opens my door, and I climb out. I still have so much to do. I haven’t packed, not that I have very many clothes here with me. I honestly didn’t expect my life to change so drastically the moment I stepped foot in LA. I packed what I needed for a quick trip and left everything else in my car—a car that I’m sure has probably been towed by now. But the moment that first check comes in, I’ll be able to buy myself a new wardrobe, and the fact that it’ll be clothes bought in Europe just makes it seem even better . . . even if those clothes are bargain bin finds.

I’ll take advantage of the yummy goodness offered on the room service menu, and after that, I’ll be right back on my laptop. Hell, I’ll probably spend the whole flight working on it too. I doubt I’ll have a chance to get much sleep, but there’s just so much to do.