Page 5 of Traitor

“I am. God, trust me I am. You have no idea just how much. But I’m askin’—Beggin’— You to give me as much.”

I contemplate it for a moment. This is a moment of weakness if I’ve ever experienced one. Letting him in even a little could destroy the careful progress I’ve made to be immune to him. Or at least, resistant to his charms.

I almost want to laugh. I can feel the urge to chuckle building in my stomach and gliding up my throat, rumbling there, waiting to be released. An audible indicator of my disbelief.

I hold back until I can’t any longer. Releasing a loud, painful laugh. It doesn’t sound joyful like laughter usually does. The sound is angry, filled with contempt.

“You wanna know why Callum? Why I’ve refused to date anyone else? Let you kiss me? Why my heart is closed off from the world? Why I won’t give you a second chance?”

It’s his turn to wince now. Good. I hope it fucking hurts. Hurts half as much as he hurt me 4 years ago.

“What more do I have to do? We’ve been seeing each other again for almost two years, Echo. I miss you, and you’re around me all the time.” he pleads.

“I don’t know Callum,” I sigh, finally giving a genuine answer instead of letting my anger blind me. His puppy dog eyes and forlorn expression softening me to him the littlest bit. “What do they say? Actions speak louder than words? You have been telling me for the past two years a lot of things, yes. But you also said similar before…”

I can’t even finish the sentence. The wounds haven’t healed and reopening them hurts just the same as the day I got them.

“So that’s it then? I can have you but not keep you? I can touch but not kiss? Not hold? You can fuck me but not love me?”

Love. I laugh again, the sound more defeated than anything this time, “I don’t have to trust you to fuck you, Callum.”

The pained look in his eyes causes me to avert my gaze. It’s like staring into the sun, beautiful, but it hurts too much to continue.

“I promise Echo—“ he begins his declaration, voice breaking, “I don’t know what I’ll have to do, but I promise— I’ll do everything in my power to prove I can be worthy of you.”

I turn away to leave again, heart breaking all over again, not letting him stop me this time.

Callum

Idon’t harbor a lot of regrets. When I make a decision I stand firm, unwavering in opinion. But…

I’ll never be able to forgive myself for what I did to Echo. The only thing I’ve ever truly regretted, and it isn’t being with him.

He still hasn’t let me explain the situation, and I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t want to listen to me either. He’s right. I don’t deserve a second chance. I don’t deserve him.

But god dammit I want one, want him.

I miss kissing his plush, beautiful, lips. He’s the best thing to ever happen to me and I fumbled terribly. He’s my calm. I miss him even though I’m with him all the time.

I don’t have to trust you to fuck you, Callum.

I step into my house after coming home from practice, shucking myself of my brown leather jacket and shoes, trying to shake off Echo’s earlier words, if not just for now. I put some frozen chicken wings in my air fryer and head my bedroom. Removing the rest of my clothes, I step into my en suite. My two head shower steams up the bathroom quickly. I like my showers hella hot.

I shower quickly so as not to accidentally fuck up my food— or house. After I’m clean and dressed in a T-shirt and loose boxers I head to the kitchen and check the timer. There’s a few minutes to spare.

With no more objectives for a second, my mind automatically drifts back to Echo. We met my senior year of high school, when my family moved from our small Texas town up to Nebraska. I fucking hated it, but it grew on me. Especially one person in particular. That’s why even before the band exploded, I decided to stay here.

Not to mention the idea of leaving Echo was goddamn nauseating. But I went and fucked that up didn’t I? A stupid fucking PR relationship where one of the Adairs was my fucking beard.

That still doesn’t feel real, despite being famous now, and still being good friends with Cozi. I don’t regret what it brought to my life— a wonderful friendship and better knowledge of this industry— but I do regret how I approached it.

I don’t know how much better it would have been, but at least the truth would be known. Echo still doesn’t know I’m gay. Hell, I’ve only just told myself in the last few years. He obviously knows I’m not straight, but I’ve never told him what flavor.

Honestly before my confessions— and subsequent declaration— he could have thought I was still the repressed dick I used to be. He probably did. Maybe he still does. I don’t know what’s in that boy’s head.

I was… What’s that saying? Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt? Well, that was me a few years ago. Gosh, Echo is rubbing off on me if I’m using sayings.

Speaking of Echo rubbing off on me—

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