F: Maybeyou’lldrive them crazy.
Eden: Shut up.
F: Good night, Eden.
Eden: Goodbye, F.
Eden: And FYI, I am not deleting this chat. I haven’t deleted any of ‘our’ chats since… well, since I came to New York, let’s put it that way. I’ll just keep them forever on this stupid old phone, and look at them, and remember how I survived. And hope.
F: To paraphrase someone extremely famous right now, Saint Hope is a bitch.
…
Eden: Can I tell you a secret?
F: I thought we said goodbye and crap.
Eden: Oh, we can say things like ‘crap’ now, huh?
F: What is the secret?
Eden: I know this is a stupid idea, and there is no way he is going to remember me or want anything to do with me now. I’m the lost girl and he is a superstar on his way to becoming a global phenomenon. I don’t know what I’m going to that concert for—I don’t know what I’m looking for. Maybe I’m looking for him to break my heart even worse than he did four years ago.
F: WHAT is the secret already, Eden?
Eden: Oh, it’s nothing special.
Eden: I still miss him.
now
The Elliot sisters chat room
Faith: EDEN ARE YOU ALIVE?
Manuela:Cause we sure aren’t. Not after that show.
Athens
twenty-six
I slam back into the present.
It’s made me dizzy, this dive into the past, and I need a moment to get my bearings.
To realize I am here, in Athens, after my first concert of the European leg.
The woods are nothing but a memory that hurts.
The events of the past few weeks feel like a dream. Did all of it really happen? Was it real? Everything just happened at once, after years of nothing and I try to wrap my mind around it: Meeting Eden on Wes’ yacht. Recognizing her. Seeing her for the first time after all these years. Having my heart stop. Seeing her red hair—her real hair. Writing songs with her, almost kissing her. Hurting her all over again.
Learning the truth, reading the articles.
Learning the truth.
Learning the truth.
Writing a song for her,Pierce Me. Performing it for her, live on stage, in front of thousands of my fans. Begging her to stay.