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My world spun around the axis of their love.I trace her beautiful face, my fingertips barely grazing the memories etched upon the screen.I fucking long to feel the warmth of her skin, to run my fingers through her silken strands once more.
If I had known that our last kiss was in fact the last, I would’ve held her with a tenderness reserved for the first time and my only loves.I would’ve poured all the love within me into that moment, imprinting it upon our souls.
She was the gentle breeze that caressed my weary soul, and Grey was the steady ground that anchored me in turbulent times.Together, they formed the foundation upon which my happiness thrived.
But the sad part is that there’s no what-ifs or do-overs.We lost her, and then I lost him.
A bitter pang grips my heart.If only I could turn back time.If only we can be us again.
ChapterThree
Greyson
The atmosphere crackleswith anticipation as the arena becomes a big ocean of faces directed toward me.The spotlight sears through, isolating me on this magnanimous stage.I’m alone on a stool, cradling my guitar, its worn strings a reminder of countless nights just like this one.
A breath escapes me, a long sigh that fills the silence before the storm.My heart thrums, matching the rhythm of the pulsing crowd, copying the emptiness of the stage.It’s just me, baring my soul.My fingers find their familiar paths along the neck of the guitar.A resonant chord fills the arena, the melancholic melody weaving into the hushed whispers of the crowd.I close my eyes and lose myself in the haunting strains of the song.
“Ballerina dancing in the twilight,
Rockstar strumming under the moon’s light,
The pianist’s fingers dancing over ivory keys, following their tune,
Three hearts entwined in the starlight,
Our love story is inked in the night.
Inked in our hearts.”
The lyrics pour out of me, raw and vulnerable.Each word is a remnant of my past, a testament to the love that once was.The world around me blurs at the edges, fading into insignificance as I step into the familiar terrain of lost love and broken dreams.
“...In the dawn, love fades to disarray.”
Like every time I sing, there’s an ache in my voice, a sorrow that seeps into the lyrics, permeated by the scars in my soul.I was okay before I stepped onto the stage, but right now I feel like I’m losing my shit.The crowd lets out a collective sigh.They empathize with my pain, feeling it on every note.Or maybe they identify with the buried emotions, the silent screams muted within the hollows of my heart.
Love isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.Sometimes it seduces you, only to leave you tethered to the fragile threads of mere existence.
As the song’s final notes fade away, the resonance of that last chord mirrors the ache in my shattered heart.I allow the guitar’s voice to diminish into a gentle whisper.The ensuing silence hangs heavily, filled with the lingering presence of them.I’ve yet to erase them from my melodies, vanish them from my thoughts.
But they’re part of the music that I create, the one that runs through my veins.Slowly, I blink open my eyes, greeted by the dazzling bright lights of the arena.The applause washes over me, but all I can hear is the deafening silence of her absence and his never-ending presence.
A single tear trickles down my cheek, a secret tribute to our ballerina and to our lost love.Time may have passed, but the heart ...the heart never forgets.
And I doubt mine will ever heal.
Coming here was a bad idea.No, scratch that—it was as stupid as letting Sanford fuck me last night in my childhood room.
Where the fuck is my common sense?
When Dad told me about his brilliant idea, I should have known better than to agree.But it’s impossible, when my sisters and cousins were excited about the concert.They helped him with every little detail.I couldn’t just be the only one missing.Yet, I need to learn to say no, to set boundaries for myself.
Saying no is okay.Remember those boundaries, Greyson,I scold myself.
You should know that those are what’s going to keep you sober and alive.
It’s not the crowd that affects me, but the musicians that gather tonight.Everyone I’ve known since I was a child is here.A shiver runs down my spine, mingling with a sense of dread that settles in my gut.
When Dad mentioned we would celebrate Pa, Uncle Jacob, and Aunt Ainsley’s birthdays with a concert, I didn’t think he meant an all-day extravaganza that would include every person the Decker triplets had taught to play an instrument.
