Page 17 of A Dark Melody

“I tried to kill myself.” He says after a moment, taking me out of my thoughts.

“What?” I look at him, surprised by his relevance. He didn’t seem like the type to want to take his life.

“You shared a secret with me, so, I thought I would share one of mine.” His lips curve upwards a little, but there is sadness behind his eyes that wasn’t there before.

“When?”

“After Haley. Not because of her. Well, maybe a little, but it was like the final straw, you know?” I nod. “I took a whole bunch of sleeping pills and chased it down with a lot of tequila. They had to pump my stomach. I told everyone it was an accident, but it wasn’t.” He pauses. “I’m glad I didn’t die like that, but man, at that moment, I really wish I had.”

“I used to cut myself.” I say quietly. I flip my wrist over and put it towards the light. “You can only see one scar, really.” I point to the small, raised line that sits on my left wrist. He grabs my hand and inspects my wrist closer, rubbing his thumb over the scar. “Management was not happy with that, so I moved to my thighs until they found out about that and put a stop to it. I never did it deep enough to scar, but just enough to relieve some of the tension.”

“We are quite a fucked-up duo.” He says and puts his around my shoulders. “Parents?”

“My father wanted nothing to do with me after the ink dried on the birth certificate. My mother is the reason I went into singing. She pushed me into fame. I think the best day of her life was when she found out I could sing. She doesn’t care about anything besides the money I pay her, though.”

“You pay your mom?”

“A little after I got signed, she tried to sue me for discovering fees. So yeah, I pay her money for discovering me. She also gets 2% of my royalties, but we don’t talk.”

“Jesus.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze. “That is so fucked up. I’m sorry.”

I shrug. “What about your parents?”

“My dad was an abusive drunk. He died when I was 17. My mother is a devoted Christian, so she isn’t too happy with my lifestyle.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Honestly, being disowned by a woman who let a man beat me isn’t so bad. Ben, my guitarist, his parents are like my adoptive parents since we met in high school. I would spend as much time over there as possible.”

“That’s nice.” I smile. “My mom never beat me, but she used to push drugs on me and looked the other way as a guy roofied me once.”

“Did he…” His voice trails off, but I know what he is asking.

“Oh yeah.” I nod. “Not the first time, not the last time.”

“Fuck. That is really messed up.”

“I was drunk the first time I had sex. I didn’t even want to do it, but he was pushy, so I just laid there and let it happen. I wouldn’t technically call it rape, but pretty close.”

“Okay.” He says, giving my shoulder another squeeze. “You win the most fucked-up award.”

“Thank you.” I put my hand over my heart. “I will cherish this award my whole life.”

He laughs. “Little Miss Damaged Dark.”

“Yep.” I laugh. “Wes?”

“Yes?”

“Promise not to be an asshole. Like if you want to stop being friends, just say so, okay? Don’t dick me around. And please don’t break the NDA. I just told you things I never told anyone before.”

“You can trust me.” He grins. “I promise not to dick you around.” He smirks.

I laugh, heat flooding my cheeks. “Thank you.”

“You know, I told you things I haven’t told anyone as well. So, don’t go spilling my secrets either.”

“I won’t.” I say and rest my head on his shoulder.

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