Page 89 of Fallen Princess: Shadow Stalker

Turning around, he casts one last gaze in our direction. “I was your creator. I made you into the stars you became. It was within my right to dismantle what was rightfully mine.”

“Wrong,” Jagger counters him, his brows furrowing deep with disagreement. “Without us, you didn’t have a band. You found an opportunity, and you milked it. You never created us; we were stars from the outset. Just remember, the public chose us and voted to keep us in the game. You merely held the winning lottery ticket and capitalized on it.”

If there was anything more I had ever agreed on with my bandmate, this was it. Jagger is right. We were always the talent, and they did nothing but expand their already large pockets full of gold. We did the legwork and made the sacrifices to transform ourselves into who we became.

“Come on, guys,” Eden says as she slips out of my grip to move towards our vehicle parked nearby. “There will be more opportunities. We’ve never needed him.”

"How about we revisit the good old days and put together a mini gig?" Callum suggests suddenly, prompting us to pause and turn our attention toward him. The idea’s not bad, but I’m curious about what he’s proposing.

Our short silence is interrupted by the roaring engine of Oliver’s vehicle storming out of his parking space and up the ramp.

“What do you have in mind?” Haze asks, and all of us are intrigued with what Callum has up his sleeve.

“I’ve got a mate. He owns a bar in downtown LA. He has a small stage for bands to play live. Maybe I could ring him and see if he’ll let us play an early set tonight.”

“What kind of bar?” Haze casts a skeptical eye over his brother.

“It’s a small dive bar. But we’ve got to start somewhere. We haven’t played in public for over a decade.”

“We haven’t played together as a band in over a decade,” Jagger corrects. “Perhaps this is what we need.”

“But a dive bar?” Haze gazes at him, releasing a sarcastic laugh. “We used to fill arenas.”

Eden goes to Callum’s rescue and grabs his hand in support.

“We need to restart somewhere, but this is an opportunity to play our song, even if it's to the wrong audience,” she gazes optimistically at each of us, “it’ll be fun.”

Haze’s face suddenly softens. “You sure princess? Dive bars are different than what you’re used to. The audience would be rough, probably brutal, maybe heckle us. If we’re lucky, they might ignore us completely.”

“I’m sure, babe. Let’s do this. After that shit show upstairs, let's prove everyone wrong, go grab our equipment, and have some fun,” she lets go of Callum’s hand. “You think your friend will let us play?”

He grins at her, determined.

“I’ll leave him no choice.”

Chapter 23

As I step ontothe cramped stage, the memories of colossal arenas and screaming crowds flood my mind, a stark contrast to the intimate, dimly lit dive bar we find ourselves in now. But the air is thick with the scent of nostalgia, and a faint anticipation hangs over the modest gathering of people who haven’t even turned my way.

To my left are my two boyfriends. Well, at least Haze has affirmed his position in our relationship. While sharing feelings similar to Haze, Jagger is scared to let go, and I understand his dilemma because I’m teetering on the edge, and I'm not sure if I can jump in as Haze has.

I glance at them, their familiar faces bathed in the dim glow of the stage lights, and grasp their guitars. They share a nod that silently conveys the shared journey we're about to embark upon.

On the opposite side is Callum, and he shares a meaningful glance with me. While it’s obvious his feelings for me go beyond the friendship of bandmates, but he's grappling with internal struggles. It’s not that he doesn’t trust me; he doesn’t trust himself.

He needs to realize that love isn’t an addiction, and it’s definitely not anything similar to something physical we put in our bodies. It's not a craving but a potion that transforms the ordinary into the extraordinary. It's neither the feverish search for the next high, but rather, love is a sanctuary, a haven where souls find solace and understanding.

I’ve had ten years in the desert to work out the pain inside me and what it all meant. Writing stuff down helps, and I find that I can articulate myself more effectively through music than through typicalconversational words that rely on logical explanations, which most people would comprehend best.

I turn behind me and exchange a glance with Asher, acknowledging our challenge ahead. Then the thought of what Callum told me about Asher’s position as drummer on stage enters my mind. So, I do a little wiggle of my ass that I know he’ll appreciate and turn my head over my shoulder in his direction. He falls into an amused laugh.

He knows I know, and he doesn’t seem to care. He is more than happy to be free about his feelings for me. Back at the house, when we gathered the equipment for tonight, I wanted to apologize to them for running off like I did, but he jumped in and said we shouldn’t regret anything.

Asher said some of us never had a proper childhood, let alone a life as a typical teenager, and instead went straight to work, whereas most kids went to school and hung out with their parents and friends. We were too young and immature to recognize the kind of love we had; it consumed us, and when things went south, we turned on each other.

He thinks now, things will be different.

He's always the optimist. I’m surprised by how much passion he has within himself, especially when I know that, given the chance, he’ll prefer animals over people.

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