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? Because no one cares about you when you’ve made it ?
? They’re all coming for you, darling ?
? You better learn how to fight with your hands, box, box, box ?
? Because you’re just another rabbit for another fox ?
? Don’t let her get you caught ?
? ‘Cause she’s a liar, and she hates that you’re going higher ?
? Yeah, she hates that you’re going so much higher ?
Chapter 19
Cameron
Rehearsing without Alyssa in the room is like trying to solve a jigsaw puzzle that has nothing but blank pieces.
It’s useless. Pointless. Impossible.
I find myself playing the same melody, over and over, my fingers on auto-pilot as I try not to think about what she’s up to right now. But as my fingers play through the song we wrote together while listening in on a couple fighting in the street, her lyrics worming their way through my brain, I can’t help but think about her.
I hope she’s happy, wherever she is, whatever she’s doing.
And a part of me hopes that she’s spending most of her time by herself, too, wincing a little as I imagine her dancing with a stranger in a nightclub or worse, spending the night in his bed. Even though Alyssa was never going to be mine alone, I can’t stomach the idea of her moving beyond all of us, carrying on with her life without looking back even once.
Rhys is playing his guitar right beside me, even though it’s obvious he’d literally rather be anywhere else. He’s been walking around looking hurt ever since Alyssa left L.A., his usual playful demeanor replaced by nothing but doom and gloom. Even Van is so much surlier than his typical self, barely speaking a word to us as we go through the motions of playing our instruments in the studio.
I bring my attention back to the keys in front of me, as I once again attempt to push thoughts of Alyssa away from my mind. From the way she spoke during our last conversation, I feel like I already know whether or not she’s coming back to L.A., if she’ll be interested in being part of our band ever again. She also hadn’t responded to any of my desperate texts or phone calls, trying my hardest to get in contact with her before she boarded a flight out of the city.
Because she doesn’t have anything else to say.
Just as I start to play a more somber song, humming to myself as the notes lift off the keys, there’s a sudden crashing sound to my left. I then look over to see Rhys smashing one of his guitars against the floor, his frustration seeming to finally get the better of him.
“Fuck!” Rhys yells, as he brings his guitar against the ground again. “Fuck! Fuck it all!”
“Rhys, you need to calm down—” Van starts.
But Rhys just shakes his head, his chest heaving from the effort of smashing his instrument. “Fuck that, Van! Are we seriously just going to stand around and donothing?”
“What do you expect us to do, Rhys?” Van snaps. “Alyssa already made her choice—”
“Because we didn’t do anything to change it,” Rhys snaps right back. “Because we pretty much just shrugged our shoulders and she didn’t think anything would be different—”
“Don’t, Rhys. Don’t try to bring us into your bullshit,” Van hastily interrupts him. “If you hadn’t ever hooked up with Geesha Riley in the first place, then Alyssa wouldn’t be gone—”
“How is it my fucking fault that Geesha turned out to be a fucking psycho?” Rhys shouts. “Do you think this is really what I wanted? You think I wanted Alyssa out of our lives? Alyssa Smith is the best thing to ever happen to me!”
“She’s the best thing to ever happen to all of us,” I suggest, purposely keeping my tone calm. “And we’re not going to get anywhere by turning on each other, unless you actually want the band to break up for good."
“...What do you think we should do, then?” Rhys turns toward me, his energy shifting from enraged to completely helpless. “How do we…how do I fucking fix it, Cameron?”
“I think you just need to beat Geesha at her own game,” Van answers on my behalf, with a serious look on his face. “If she’s willing to play dirty…then maybe we need to be willing to play dirty, too.”
“Okay, but how?” Rhys quirks an eyebrow. “She already put a narrative out there, and it looks like everybody’s just eating it up.”
“Sure, but you’ve got your own point of view on things, don’t you?” I press. “It’s not like she’s telling the whole truth, anyway.”
