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“Miss me already?” I answered.
“I’m on a beach with a drink in my hand, far away from the bullshit. What do you think?”
Grinning, I said, “How many of those drinks have you had?”
“Enough to feel pretty damn good.”
“How’s Sybil?” She was Flynn’s wife. She was also ten years older than him, a fact he loved.
“She’s lying beside me on a chair, her ass bare to the sun. I told her she was going to burn in places I rather she didn’t.”
“I have sunblock on,” I heard her reply.
“I’m well aware. I put it on you, remember?”
“How could I forget? You ended up with your head between my thighs afterward.”
I laughed. If there were ever two people who were made for each other, it was them. They had a great relationship where they laughed and joked and were so madly in love.
“Anyway,” Flynn said. “I hear you’re playing at the steakhouse tonight.”
“Was it Dash or Slater who told you?” I didn’t mind. If Flynn had been home and not on vacation, I would have told him just as a heads-up that we were going there to play. I didn’t mention when I went there to eat or help. Only when we planned to perform.
Fortunately, we had an amazing label. We’d been with them from the beginning, and we had a lot better relationship than other recording artists had with theirs. When it was time to work out the details of a new album or tour, we did it together, our band and the label with others we needed there as well. Decisions were jointly made and in the best interest of everyone. It had worked this way for the sixteen years since we signed with them. To this day, we were their highest grossing band.
“Your sister. She put it on the steakhouse’s social media pages.”
“Of course, she did.” I loved my sister. The restaurant was her baby. She’d do any job that needed to be done, including wait tables, fill in on food prep, even be the bartender. Our parents still owned it, but Cadence managed it. One day, she was going to burn out. Apparently, that wasn’t today.
“You’re itching to play, aren’t you?”
“I have something in my head I can’t quite get on paper. I’m hoping playing tonight will help.” I also hoped it brought Casper closer. Wishful thinking, but it was what it was. Something had to give between me and him. Me and Elic. Hell, all three of us. It wasn’t healthy to ignore the problem. I should know. Casper made me crazy, yet instead of cutting him off for good, I kept letting him in.
“You’ll get there. You always do.”
“Thanks.”
“I had the label put out a post saying you’d be performing tonight, so you better hope the others show or it’s going to be you singing with no music.”
“I’ll tell them. Enjoy your vacation.”
“Thanks. We’ll talk soon.” He hung up.
Part of my writing process I did when I was alone at home, wishing Casper would stop being a dick about who we were to each other. I knew in my heart he wanted me like I did him.
My songs were full of longing. Love that didn’t exist. Crushed dreams and a silent home. Nights alone, wishing I had someone to love me whole.
Our band name was my idea. I’d cycled through different names at the time, but I was angry at the world for a multitude of reasons. My mom had been taken far too soon. I still missed her like crazy and hoped she was somewhere looking down on us. Then I’d feel like shit because if my mom hadn’t passed away, my dad wouldn’t have met Adria and they wouldn’t have gotten married. I wouldn’t have Casper in my life. As upset as he made me, I wouldn’t wish away his presence from my life. It was inconceivable to me.
As toxic as everything we did was, as much as it hurt when he’d pull away, like he had the other morning, I’d still take any bit of him I could get. Casper hadn’t said the words aloud, but his actions told me he cared. He just had a hard time admitting it.
Like the other day when he came home from the drugstore to see Elic and me with tears in our eyes. Casper made sure we were both okay. He cared, probably deeper than most.
I’d tried to get him to commit to me. He never would.
Ruined & Relinquished fit in with the whole rocker vibe and angry at the world feel. It was spot-on. The others loved it as much as I did. Over the years, it became personal to me.
Casper ruined me. I’d tried to move on, away from him. In the end, no one made me feel like he did. No one held my attention like Casper, so I went back to him, like always, even though I knew what would happen. I was just as guilty as he was because I kept returning to the source of my turmoil.
