Page 111 of Gabriel's Album

I open my phone and scroll through the pictures of her. I miss her so much, and nothing is right with her gone. The intense pain of not having her with me is too much. I’m meant to continue my life without her, but I don’t know how.

I call her and leave another voicemail.

“Ari. It’s been a week today. I can’t believe it’s been a week. Everything in my life feels so wrong without you here. I keep seeing things and thinking, ‘I should tell Ari about that’ but, of course, I can’t. I miss you. I love you.”

Today is our final day in Los Angeles. Tonight, I’ll leave this place, the place where I saw her last. I swallow heavily and drop my phone next to me on the bed. I stare at the ceiling of the room, thinking about Ariana how much I miss her.

Harrison and Heather arrive back from Chicago in the afternoon, and they show up at my hotel suite with Sebastian and Hayden at dinnertime as I’m packing up my belongings.

“Hey, Gabriel. Want to come to dinner with us?” Harrison smiles at me.

No.

“Sure,” I tell him.

It’s not worth the argument if I say no, so I follow my friends out into the hallway.

“How was the wedding?” I ask.

“Good. Heather looked more beautiful than Chloe if you ask me,” he smiles at me.

The stabbing pain of jealousy that I get causes tears to prick my eyes, but Harrison doesn’t notice as Sebastian draws his attention away from me.

“It’s not like you’re biased or anything,” Sebastian laughs.

He starts telling Harrison about the things we did while they were away, and I move next to Heather as we stop in front of the elevators.

“Nothing before you left, I guess?”

Her face is pale and drawn, and she shakes her head at me. “No. I called her, and I sent messages, but she didn’t reply at all. I was so sad when we were flying home, just knowing that she didn’t want to see me while I was there.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, as the guilt at bringing Ariana into her life washes over me again.

“It’s not your fault, darling.” She gives me a tight smile. “I guess she just didn’t value our friendship as much as I did.”

I don’t have anything to say to that, so we fall silent as we walk with our friends to the restaurant. We’re seated at a table in a raised section of the restaurant, and I feel exposed. People are looking at me, and I don’t like it. I want to be left alone.

I order the first thing I look at on the menu, and it’s completely tasteless when I eat it. I engage in the conversation when someone addresses me directly, but I remain silent otherwise. I feel a bit like I’m an outside observer, one of the people in the restaurant watching with interest as Cruise Control enjoy their fantastic rock star lives.

When I get back to my suite, I finish packing up, and we all pile onto the tour buses. It’s strange being here without Ariana, and when I’m settled in my bunk, I call her for something that I realize has become a habit for me. Every morning and every bedtime. My new ritual, dedicated to her.

“Ari. Bedtime again. My phone is on if you want to talk.”

The next morning, I can barely stand the knowledge that I’ve left the last place I saw Ariana. It’s the start of my second week without her. I call her and imagine she’s talking to me when I hear her voice.

“Ari. I miss you. You have been the best thing in my life for the past six months.” I search for a way to explain how I’m feeling. “It’s like you’ve taken all the light from my world, and everything is dim now. I would give anything just to have you in my arms again.”

We have a concert tonight, and the mood in our group is somber as we pull up at the venue for the soundcheck. It feels strange to be performing again, and I struggle through the soundcheck because I’m tormented with memories of performing to Ariana at the Grammys. I was so happy then, but now I feel empty inside.

I make my way to my dressing room between the soundcheck and the concert, sitting in silence, and I cry again. It’s all too much to bear. I can’t stop thinking about her, wishing she were here, remembering the things we did. I can practically feel her sitting on my lap as I kissed her.

I wipe away the tears and close my eyes, imagining her here with me. I can see her removing her top and exposing her full breasts to my view before she would kiss me again. I can feel myself getting hard as I imagine it. I think about how I would kiss her back while playing with her breasts as I lower my hands to unbutton my jeans.

I reach my hand into my briefs to slowly stroke my cock while I imagine using a hand to reach into Ariana’s underwear instead. I would find her clit amongst her wet folds as I took one of her breasts in my mouth, and I can almost hear the soft moan she would give me as I did.

I stroke my erection quicker and envisage bringing Ariana to climax while hearing her moan my name. I can see my dream-self kissing her before I get her to stand so I can pull my jeans to my ankles and sit down so she can straddle me again.

I imagine her tight, wet pussy sliding onto my cock and bouncing her up and down on me. I grip my shaft tighter and pump myself faster. I can feel my orgasm approaching, and the ecstasy reaches fever pitch as I find release at the same time as I imagine doing it inside Ariana.

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