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He claps his hands together and turns toward the door. “I’ll meet you at the car, I have to take a piss.”
I stare at the ring and contemplate my future. This is the best option I have. I’m making decisions based on what’s best for me.
Jude was right, a part of me was waiting, hoping he’d come back, grovel and beg to make things right. But even if he walked into this room right now, it wouldn’t matter. I’m not a stupid nineteen-year-old who believes in Prince Charming.
I learned the hard way that the higher you fly, the more lethal the come down. The earth gave out from underneath my feet and with nothing to break my fall, I crashed hard and fast into love. And it was such a heady drug I didn’t realize all the bones I’d broken until the high had worn off.
I’ve spent the better part of a decade tangled in a web woven from equal part love and hate. Unable, and at times unwilling, to move on.
This isn’t the path I wanted to take, but if I’m finally going to get out of here it’s the one I need to take.
I pick the ring out of the box and slip it onto my finger.
Just like that, I’m engaged.
14
Carter
Win some, Lose Some
If you’d told me a year ago I’d be celebrating six months of sobriety in a recording studio with my old band mates, I would have laughed you out of the room.
But here I am, in a shitty recording studio in the basement of Dane, my bass guitar player’s Harlem brownstone, behind the piano, singing a song I wrote.
“We sound so fucking good together. It’s a crime we haven’t been able to make music all these years,” Heath, our other guitarist and our lead vocalist, claps me on the shoulder and drops onto the couch against the wall.
“No, it’s a crime that Carter was our drummer.” Dane rolls his shoulders. “We should have known they didn’t know what they were doing when they made that decision,”
I snort a laugh. “Thanks. I was a damn good drummer,”
“You know what I mean, you were born to play the piano man, and your voice, it's ridiculous.” Lucas chimes in from behind the drum set.
“You like it back there?” I ask him.
“Yeah. I do. Drums were my first audition, remember? They brought me back for the piano audition afterwards.”
I frown. “I thought I was the only one who auditioned with drums and piano.”
“You weren’t, and I was surprised that’s where they put you.”I stand from the piano and stretch. “Why didn’t we ever talk about this before?”
“We never had time, and we were never alone. And by the time we realized how fucked up our deal was, it was too late.” Dane hands me a bottle of water as I walk past him to join Heath on the couch. I close my eyes and take a long deep drink.
“Do you miss it?” Heath asks no one in particular.
Dane shakes his head.
“Not at all?” I press, skeptically. Our band ill fated, The Legendaries, was put together by the label. They wanted undiscovered talent and they found it using open call auditions. Like everything else they did, it was chaotic and arbitrary. But we got lucky - We couldn’t have been a better fit. When our relationship with the label fell apart, we were all hamstrung by NDAs and forced to break up. But we never went our separate ways, we talked regularly and occasionally went on vacation together. But this is the first time we've played together. And I'd forgotten how good it feels.
Dane sighs. “I miss making music, I miss shows, but I don’t miss all the bullshit with contracts and lawyers and all the other leeches who were sucking us dry and selling us out.”
“Too right,” Lucas sings. “If I ever signed another contract, it would have to be negotiated by Dean Orleans himself.”
I sit up. “He was scouting me a few months ago.”
“Stop lying,” Dane gives me a disbelieving glare.
“I’m not.”
