Page 37 of Mayhem

Eventually, he nods. And it’s not just a half-hearted nod, it’s emphatic.

“Yeah, I wish you would, actually.”

It’s an odd response, and one I wasn’t expecting to say the least. I thought he’d fight it just a little bit more, but I’m glad to hear it.

“Did you already have a melody in mind? Or some sort of structure?” I get up from the couch and grab my old acoustic guitar from a nearby stand, anxious to see where this could go.

“I did, actually,” he says, brightening a little as he takes the guitar from me and starts playing.

He is not a singer, by any stretch of the imagination, but I get the gist of the melody he had in mind and start singing along as he plays. The contrast between the melody and the notes played gives it an even more haunting aura, and after about another hour of working and reworking, I think we have a song on our hands.

Pain can be powerful.

22

STILL HERE

TESS

After going over the online situation with Ian once Brad left, I drag myself to meet Ivy for dinner. Honestly, I’d rather just go home and bury myself under a rock or something, but she insisted I come and talk about what happened.

“So, you fucked up,” Ivy says. A declaration that I now need to contextualize for her. She’s so good at pulling stories out of me that I don’t want to tell. I hate her for it, and love that she can do it at the same time.

“I did,” I agree, and spill the entire thing. One thing about Ivy is that she’ll get all the details eventually, so I just throw them out there to begin with. It saves time in the long run.

Once I finish spilling my guts about the whole ordeal and the conversation with Eliza, she twists her wine glass by the stem thoughtfully for several minutes, obviously lost in thought. It makes me uncomfortable, but I wait her out. Surely she’s got some pearls of wisdom to share with me to make it all better. At least, I really hope she does.

Finally, she nods to herself and locks my gaze with hers. “You care about him a lot already, don’t you?”

I tilt my head at her, a little confused at the question. “I guess, but?—”

“That’s not an answer,” she interrupts. “Yes, or no? You really like Brad Chambers?”

I take a sip of my own wine, searching for my feelings. I can’t deny them. Not with Ivy. And a part of me dies a little at the thought that I’ve screwed it all up so badly. “I do. Yeah.”

She nods to herself again, still studying me. “Then you need to fix this.”

I roll my eyes, getting frustrated. That’s not an answer. I need a solution. “No shit. But, how?”

“Here’s the thing,” she says, leaning forward on the table, her voice low. Her soulful eyes are full of empathy. “Brad is a father of a little girl. A very protective father from the sound of things. You may not have known that a line was there when it came to Charlie, but you crossed it.”

“I know…”

“All you can do is be honest with him. Own up to your mistake and hope he can get past it.”

It’s not the grand scheme I was hoping for to instantly fix everything, but she’s right. I’m not a schemer anyway. Even if she did come up with some spectacular plot, I’d fuck it up if it wasn’t based in truth somehow.

“And, what if he can’t? What if I’ve ruined things beyond repair?” My throat tightens as I ask the question, because I don’t want that to be the case. I want to fix this.

“That’s a question for you,” she replies, tilting her wine glass toward me. “What are you going to do if he can’t? Can you still work for the band if there’s a tension there between you and Brad? Would you want to?”

I consider the question. Of course, I could still work with the band, but would I want to? I don’t think I would. Seeing Brad as a daily reminder of what could have been would be too much for my sensitive soul. Seeing him with someone else eventually would be even worse. I don’t think I could handle that.

But aren’t I a professional? Sure, this situation puts that all into question, but the reality of the situation is that I am. I should be able to put my emotions aside to do my job. I do that all the time for clients. Why is this so different?

Because I really do like Brad. A lot. More than I should? I don’t know how to navigate this until I know what Brad is thinking.

“Technically, I think I could still work for them, but I don’t think I’d want to.” I pause, letting the possibility sink in. “It would hurt too much.”

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