Page 92 of Rock Me All Night
18
Routine washes awayany hint of Miles. I go to class. I go to work. I go to Kara's on Sunday and try to avoid any topic related to men or music—especially men who make music.
The goal proves impossible. She turns twenty-one at the end of October, and she's throwing a birthday-slash-Halloween-slash-week-before-midterms party at the Sinful Mansion in Hollywood. I consider calling Drew and begging him to take over my duties as best friend.
The next two weeks are miserable. Sinful Serenade launches their new singleNo Way in Hell—the song about me.
It's an overnight success. It hits number one on the alternative chart, number four on the pop chart. The music video hits ten million downloads by the end of its first week. The thing is gorgeous and stark. It's in black and white. Half is the band playing on the beach, waves crashing around them. The other half is Miles in an empty bedroom, his eyes filled with hurt.
I understoodIn Pieceslike the words were written in my soul. Why can't I figure this song out? I'm sure it's about me. But I'm not sure what it means.
How can he write a song about me in one breath then tell me I don't deserve to look into his heart in the next?
The song follows me everywhere. It's on every Spotify playlist and Google Play Music station. The damn thing plays every hour on KROQ. I can't go into a store or a restaurant or a coffee shop without hearing it.
The words mock me.
Three a.m.and I can't sleep.
A common refrain, I know.
As a sentiment, it's cheap.
Someone to call, to hold,
to love. No way that word—
She smiles and I drift away—
Oh hell no.
This can't be.
No way I, no way she.
Anyone else, maybe,
but not me.
I don't do this kind of thing.
Love. He's using the wordlovein reference to me. He can share his feelings with the world, but he can't share them with me.
He's not talking to me. Not texting me. He doesn't apologize. He doesn't even ask to cash in on our benefits.
I mean nothing to him.
