Page 113 of Gabriel's Album

He grins at the crowd, who cheer, and then we move on to the next song. By the end of the concert, I’m completely drained. When we walk off stage, I’m ready to just be done, but we have the meet and greet to do.

Miguel comes backstage, and we all sign autographs for him and the rest of the fans. Sebastian talks to Miguel for a long time, and the meet and greet feels like it drags on forever. Finally, we get on the tour buses to move on to the next city.

Without fail, I make my nightly call to Ariana.

“Ari, I’m going to bed. It feels so empty without you here.” It’s true. The empty space next to me in this bed is terrible. “I lay awake at night, imagining you’re lying next to me. My phone is on if you want to call.”

I put my phone aside and do exactly that. Pretending that Ariana is here with me. I lie to myself that she’s just a tiny bit apart from me, which is why I can’t physically feel her, but she’s definitely there.

The first thing I do when I wake up is call Ariana.

“Ari. We had a concert last night. It sucked harder than ever, not having you around.”

I wince at just how hard it is to be in this environment that I’ve only ever known with her in it, and to not have her here anymore.

“It was a really good distraction, though. I needed it,” I acknowledge, then sigh. “I keep hoping that one of these days, you’ll actually pick up the phone when I call. Anyway, I’d better go. We have a soundcheck to do and another concert tonight. I love you.”

The days begin to blur into one another as I go through the motions of living. I miss living in a world of color and laughter as everything slowly seeps away from me. I do concerts and interviews without a true awareness of what I’m doing or saying. It takes everything within me just to function.

Ariana doesn’t contact me at all, but I continue to call her every morning when I wake, and every evening before I go to bed. I expect her voicemail to tell me it’s full, but it doesn’t. Hearing her voice is the highlight of my day.

The news story about us is still circulating, and Stacey has continued talking to anyone who will listen, but our own interviews are in the mix, and the waters have been muddied by that. I have to stop reading them whenever they start speculating about my relationship, or lack thereof, because it hurts too much.

I’m woken in my bunk on the tour bus by Harrison one morning. “Get up, Gabriel. Cooper is here for a band meeting.”

“What? Where?” I ask, my foggy morning brain not functioning correctly.

“He’s in Sebastian and Hayden’s bus. Come now.”

I nod, and he gives me some privacy while I pull on some clothes before I follow him and Heather over to the guys’ bus. We walk in to see the guys sitting at a booth in front of a table with Cooper, and they stop talking when we walk in.

“Gabriel, good to see you. Take a seat,” Cooper instructs.

I slide into the booth next to Hayden, with Heather next to me, and Harrison on her other side.

“Right. Now, I wanted to have a discussion with you all today. I know we’re not long from the end of the tour and you’re all tired, but you need to keep your energy up for the remainder of the tour.”

“We’re doing our best, Cooper,” Sebastian frowns at him.

“I’ll admit that you are doing a very good job, Sebastian. This might be a record for the length of time you’ve gone without causing a fuck-up,” Cooper concedes.

“Geez, don’t get too heavy with the praise,” Sebastian says, and rolls his eyes.

“Yes, well, some other people aren’t necessarily putting in as much effort as they used to,” he coughs and looks at me.

I don’t respond; I can’t even summon up the energy to be annoyed at what he’s saying. I don’t even give a shit if it’s true. I’ve been performing every night we’ve had a concert, doing the interviews I’m told to do, and basically just being his performing monkey.

Cooper frowns at me. “Do you have anything to say, Gabriel?”

“Not really.” I shrug my shoulders.

“This is ridiculous. It’s been almost two weeks since she left.”

Has it? I didn’t realize how much time had passed.

“She’s not coming back, and obviously, she’s moved on with her life. You need to do the same thing,” Cooper tells me.

“No. I don’t want to fucking move on. I don’t want anything if I can’t have her,” I inform him.

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