Page 129 of Gabriel's Album

Disappointment floods through me, and an image of Ariana standing in front of me in the green dress flashes into my mind.

“What are you going to do?” Hayden is looking at me when he asks this question.

“I don’t know. Shit. Fuck. I need to talk to her.”

My mind is a mess, and I can’t focus on anything except the fact that I saw Ariana and that I need to talk to her. It’s the singular focus in my mind, and two words are burned there: Wilson Realty. I know exactly where to find her.

I start walking toward the door, some part of me hoping that Ariana is waiting just outside of it. I hear Tanya apologizing to the fans, and a small part of me feels guilty at cutting the meet and greet short, but I need to see Ariana.

She isn’t there, though, and I’m disappointed. Wilson Realty. That’s all I need, that information. I can see her face as clear as crystal in my mind. She still loves me; I know it for certain. I don’t know why she left, but I’ll find her and talk to her.

I get into one of the white vans that will be dropping us off at our apartments tonight, and Heather scrambles into mine after me.

“You’re not going to go see her or anything, are you?” she asks the second she sits down.

“I have to, Heather,” I tell her.

“No, you don’t. She left us. Don’t do this, Gabriel.”

“But she came back.” My eyes widen, and my face splits into a smile as I say it. “It’s what we always wanted.”

“Too little, too fucking late, in my opinion,” Heather says coldly. “She could’ve come back any time in the last two fucking years. Why now? Why does she suddenly want to be around us when you’ve moved on and have a new girlfriend?”

Ice returns to my veins. Surely not. No. Ariana isn’t like that. But also, fuck. Elena. She was driven entirely out of my mind by Ariana’s reappearance tonight. Guilt floods through me because Elena has been good to me and for me.

“Ariana isn’t like that. Sebastian said she won tickets, so it’s not like she did something shady to get backstage to try and get to me,” I shrug.

“Convenient,” Heather mutters under her breath.

“Besides, I just want to talk to her,” I say to Heather. “I just need some answers to questions I’ve had for two years. Then, the tour will be over, and I can move past it.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. She just sat in the concert and watched you sing a whole goddamn album about her. Including the encore. You don’t fool me for a second, Gabriel Knight; I know that song isn’t about Elena.” She gives me an accusatory glare.

“I never said it was,” I shrug.

“It washeavilyimplied,” she says, and raises an eyebrow at me.

“Well, fuck knows why anyone ever thought that because I wrote it before I met her.”

“You said you changed some lyrics after you met her; that’s why,” Heather objects.

I feel the heat rush to my cheeks and confess, “That wasn’t untrue. I did change lyrics after I met Elena, just not many, and none of them were actually to do with her.”

There’s silence in the car for a few seconds before Heather sighs deeply and says quietly, “Don’t do this, Gabriel.”

“I have to.”

“No, you don’t. She broke you. She broke us. You only just got over her. She’ll kill you this time,” she whispers.

My eyes widen, and for an instant, I wonder if Sebastian told her, but I realize as I open my mouth to ask that she’s just using hyperbole.

I swallow as memories of my darkest day come to my mind, and I shake my head at Heather. “She won’t. I have a girlfriend. I just want answers.”

“If you say so,” Heather shrugs.

We fall silent until Harrison joins us in the van. Apparently, Sebastian and Hayden are taking a different one, so we set off without them. We travel to my apartment in ominous silence. It’s rare for Heather to give up on an argument, but I’m grateful. I close my eyes and rest my head against the cool windowpane, conjuring up an image of Ariana behind my eyelids.

We reach my apartment, and I get out of the van. “Bye, guys. I’ll see you later.”

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