Page 26 of Cadence
Glaring at the phone in my hand, I swipe away the notifications, hands trembling as my heart aches with a new sortof pain, wanting to talk to the one person who’d stop me from feeling this way, the one person who’d understand.
But I can’t.
Instead, I pull up the text thread with Olive and fire off a quick message.
I’m done.
Her reply is immediate.
Olive
What happened?
It’s all fucked. No matter how hard I try, he won’t let up. I can’t win.
Olive
Do I need to fly out and kick his ass?
I’ll do it, you know.
A weak smile tugs on my lips as I watch the three dots bounce around on screen.
Olive
Go home, print out photos of his face and stick them to your drum kit and bang the shit out of it.
What good would that do?
Olive
Duh, practicing while getting out your aggression.
You’re an idiot.
Olive
It will work, though. Listen, don’t get hung up on it, we’ll talk tonight. Sorry I can’t right now, I’m about to go into a call. Love you, babe. Stay strong.
I pocket my phone, along with some of my fury, and release a shaky breath. My rage was loud before, but now, shame sneaks in quieter. I didn’t want them to find out like this. It’s not like it was supposed to stay a secret forever. It was bound to come out, but on my own terms. Not exposed and berated by someone who, since we’ve met, has a chip on his shoulder over me.
My eyes prickle, and I bite the inside of my lip. Goddamnit, I willnotcry because of him.
That look on his face when he saw the name on my phone, though? It will haunt me. That wasn’t doubt. It was judgment, disgust, like I’d committed some betrayal just by being who I am. I should be used to it by now, people thinking I’ve had it easy, assuming I was handed everything wrapped in a shiny bow.
But coming from him? That cut deeper than it should.
He doesn’t know me. Doesn’t know what I’ve given to be taken seriously. The hours, the effort, the erasure of my own last name just to be seen without the shadow of my father looming over every damn note.
My head drops back with a dull thud, and I close my eyes, but his face is there behind them, all arrogant, smug, gorgeous…insufferable…
I should walk. Quit. It’s what he wants, right? Me, gone. He’d probably sleep easier knowing he drove me out of the band before I had the chance to prove anything.
But I don’twantto leave. I like playing with them, Beau’s easy confidence and Eli’s ridiculous jokes. Like the way they make me feel like I belong.
And Maddox…
God, I hate that I like the way he pushes me, forces me to dig in, play harder, cleaner, smarter. He sharpens every edge I have, and some twisted part of me comes alive within that fire.
