Page 83 of Take What You Want

I know she needs time to process things and if I push her to talk to me right now, it’s not going to end well. I’ll give her the space she needs. It’s the hardest fucking pill to swallow, but for her, I’ll choke it down.

Hendrik pulls up, and I open the door, holding her hand as I help her in before I take my own seat next to her. The car ride is quiet, and I hate it. I’ve never been good with silence. Something always needs to fill the void, create some noise.

But for Jane’s sake, I push through it and breathe a sigh of relief when we pull into my driveway. The car is barely stopped before Jane pops open her door and jumps out. She waves at Hendrik and enters the house without waiting for me.

Hendrik turns in the driver’s seat to look at me. He raises a bushy eyebrow.What did you do?

“Not tonight,” I sigh. I undo my seatbelt, get out, and go inside. The house is dark and quiet. I expected to see Jane in the kitchen getting some water or a late-night snack, but she’s nowhere to be seen.

I head upstairs and hesitate before I turn to head to my bedroom. Glancing down the hallway, my stomach dips when I see the door to Jane’s bedroom is already closed. A faint light glows at the bottom, but I don’t bother her.

Space.

Give her a little space.

Because while I know this was inevitable between us, she’s been fighting against it. And tonight just blew that fight to pieces.

But I saw it tonight. The way she looked at me like she did when we were teenagers. The thought quells the anxiety a bit as I turn down the hallway and go to my bedroom.

Tonight may not have ended the way I hoped with her wrapped in my arms as we slept, but it was still progress. She’s not completely shut off to me, even if she’s trying to be.

If I learned anything when I saw my life flash before my eyes way before I ever thought it would, it’s to take what I want when I want it because there might not be a tomorrow.

21

NIKOLAI

Nothing feels as good beneath my fingertips as the smooth, silky ivory keys of a piano. I can also play the guitar and am decent enough at drums, but I’ve never loved an instrument like I do piano. That’s how most of my songwriting starts; just me and the piano.

The pedals are cool beneath my bare feet as I tip my head back, eyes closed, and let my fingers get carried away with the melody I’ve been working on the past twenty minutes. A soft orange glow covers my closed eyelids from the setting sun outside the window in the studio’s room.

This is my favorite spot to start songs before I take them into one of the recording booths and their windowless abyss. The lack of outside interaction there feeds the creative energy as you don’t know what time it is and feel the need to abide by societal norms like proper meal times and bedtimes.

The sweeping views of LA greet me when I open my eyes again, and I take it all in, never wanting to grow used to the gratefulness that this is my life. That I’m even alive to live it.

My fingers play the final notes, but I hold the pedal down, letting them slowly drift into the air before a familiar voicebreaks me out of my stupor. “I knew that playing sounded familiar.”

I turn my head toward the door where Walker’s leaning against the frame, his large stature filling it and making the room feel smaller. He smiles warmly and that sense of home he brings to everyone around washes over me.

Standing, we both cross the room in a few steps and greet each other with a hug. He claps my back in his usual, rough way like he doesn’t know his own strength or the difference between my body and the drums he plays. “Long time, no see,” I say.

We break apart, and he puts his hands in his pockets. “Life’s been busy.”

“And here we were all worried that we’d have too much time on our hands after the break up,” I tease, but it brings an air of melancholy to the room.

“Yeah,” he chuckles half-heartedly, but then clears his throat. “Was that a new song you were just playing?”

I push my hair behind my ears as I nod. “Just playing around. I’ve been working on this new album and I think I’ve got four songs almost done for it.”

He beams proudly. “That’s great, man. I can’t wait to listen to it. I’m proud of you for doing your own thing.”

That’s one thing I never had to worry about when I decided to start a solo career – my best friends having any sort of animosity toward it. The three of them were all incredibly supportive and even Walker himself has kept up working in the industry since we broke up.

“Thanks. I appreciate it. You here working on your own stuff?”

“Nah, Scar’s working down the hall in Studio Three, so I brought her lunch.”

“And none for me?”

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