Page 21 of Volatile


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“Are you sure?” he asked.

I nodded and turned to go back to my room.

“What are you doing?” Aspen’s voice, laced with sleep, came from behind me.

“Nothing, go back to sleep.”

“I’m awake now.”

I hesitated in the middle of the hall. To go back to him or to leave?

What had me so torn?

SIX

Aspen

“Whatever. If that’s how you want it to be, I’m not going to fight you.”

He didn’t turn around. He didn’t acknowledge my words; he just stood there with his back to me. It broke me in a way I never thought Royal could.

And we didn’t go back.

I don’t know what I did, but my best friend wouldn’t look at me.

To say I was trying to stay afloat would be an understatement. I barely had my lips above the water. Floating would have been a relief.

I would kill to go back to before I broke us. He never said it was me, but what else could I assume?

He wouldn’t so much as look in my direction. The next night on stage, I wore my normal clothes, and we still played an entire show stiffer than we’d ever fucking been. Even fighting, Royal and I had never been like this with one another.

After sound check and day five of Royal not speaking to me, I’d had it.

“That’s it.” I stood up, forcing myself out of my fog to do something.

“Huh?” Kingsley lay watching something on TV.

“I’m going out.”

He checked his watch. “You don’t have much time before we have to head to the venue.”

“I won’t be long. I’ll take Sebastian with me.”

“Alright.”

I googled while we waited on the valet. “I found it.”

“Send me the address,” Sebastian said as he got in the driver’s seat.

I took the front since the rest of the guys weren’t with us.

“Are you not worried they’ll get photos?”

“Whatever. They can follow us if they want.” The hotel we were at in New Orleans didn’t have an underground parking structure, so unless we went out the back alley, fans and photogs knew where we were going.

We stopped outside a little costume shop, but the photogs knew to stay outside. Thankfully, it had massive deep purple curtains to block out what we were doing.

The seamstress looked up from her counter and smiled. “Good afternoon. What can I help you with?”

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