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“Reed sounded happy when he called.”
“Jesus, do you have a death wish?” It was so tempting to reach for the Jack and throw the bottle at Dash.
“No, but since we’re talking about Reed, did you two switch moods or something because he’s usually the depressed one while you’re MIA for a week.”
My eyes narrowed. “Flynn didn’t call you, did he?”
“Hell no. I’d hang up on him after telling him to go fuck himself if he brought up a tour this soon after ending one.” He shouldn’t have been able to get me to believe him. It went to show how caught in my head I was.
“I’m not talking about Reed, and I’m not depressed.”
“Reed said you left dinner early and didn’t eat. That you were quiet but not in your usual broody way.”
“Reed wouldn’t say broody like that.”
“Whatever, my point still stands.” He sat on my couch and propped his boot-covered feet on the glass table in front of it, like he always did, with a loudthump. One time, he cracked the top by doing it. I made him buy a new one. Then he started saying he could put his feet on it whenever he wanted since he’d paid for it. “Come pour your heart out to Uncle Dashie.” He patted the cushion next to him.
I hesitated. Dash would stay as long as it took to get everything out of me. Usually, he came to my place to yell at me for making Reed upset. It was different now. I was the one who was fucked up. Might as well get this over with.
Taking a seat—not the one he patted because I didn’t need my thigh pressed against his—I gave him the rundown, including my stellar behavior of losing my shit on Reed and scaring the hell out of Elic.
Yelling at Reed wasn’t new, though I tried not to do it. Scaring Elic, I couldn’t readily forgive myself for that.
Dash listened to everything I had to say. He was good like that. For all the jokes he made, he was serious when need be.
He leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, while looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows into the dark night.
Dremest didn’t have tall skyscrapers, but I was high enough to get a stellar view. The city was alive with people coming home from work. Sometimes I sat in silence and wondered what they were doing. Were their lives fucked up? Did they drink, or do drugs? Were they married with kids? Did they cheat on their spouse? Or did they relish in being alone and relaxed when they got home? Not everyone had the same vision of happiness.
“What’s it going to take for you to see your self-worth?” Dash asked. “I don’t just mean with Reed or Elic. I mean overall. You’re badass when we play. I’ve seen notebooks full of songs you won’t show anyone, so I know you can write. You have your secrets. We all do. But when I look at you, it’s apparent how much you hate yourself.”
I opened my mouth to refute his statement, but nothing came out. Could I sit here and tell him I didn’t hate who I was? That I was proud of all the shit I’d done and the pain I’d caused? Fuck no. I was an asshole through and through. The worst part was, I didn’t want to be, yet I kept screwing up. I kept pushing people away or letting them in only so far.
Thinking of showing my thoughts, my words, to anyone terrified me. Thinking of showing them to someone I cared about was paralyzing. It was why that notebook and the others I had hidden were just that—kept away from anyone who’d want to read them. They weren’t simply songs in there. They were my beating, bleeding heart set to notes and lyrics, a way for me to purge my sins and soul, without having to say the words aloud. The notebooks were apologies to Reed for everything I’d done. Notes of words I couldn’t say to him because the fear and doubt were so damn strong it choked me. To open myself up, to let Reed really see inside me, I hadn’t ever been able to do it.
Dash clapped his hand on my jean-covered thigh. “It’s as simple and as complicated as you talking to them. Separately or together. Either way, you have to do something before you drown in sorrow.”
13
REED
Typically, I wasn’t a worrier. I didn’t freak about security or stress about a fan getting too close. I didn’t wonder what the label was going to do or what Flynn had up his sleeves. My gut told me if the person I was near was good or not. Whether they were after me for money or fame. I went with what I felt.
What I didn’t do was worry about Casper when he wasn’t near off tour because I was usually too upset over him walking away. We had a rhythm, an ebb and a flow between us. I hated it so fucking much, but it was how we operated. Except currently. I didn’t know what to think, so I told Dash to check on Casper.
My leg bounced where I sat on the couch, my phone on the cushion next to me. Elic had stayed at the farm with my family. If he had been younger, they would have adopted him without a second thought. Mom was slowly giving him life lessons he missed out on. Like how to cook, how to do basic tasks his mother would have shown him had she been there, or his stepdad if he wasn’t an abusive piece of shit.
Elic was smart, exceptionally so. He didn’t finish high school, but it didn’t stop him from finding discarded books and reading. He also gained a lot by being on the streets. It was a different way of learning but learning just the same.
Tonight, he would come home and show me what he made at the farm. So far, he could cook easy meals and bake a few desserts and breads. He’d made banana bread the other night I couldn’t get enough of. I told him not to tell Mom because she’d have my head for thinking his was better than hers. Who knew what he did differently? It was damn good though.
A vibration had me turning to look at my phone. Dash’s name lit the screen.
Dash: He’s not good, but he’s not bad either. He’s going through some shit which you already know. I won’t betray his trust. Talk to him. Seriously, sit down and talk. You can’t add Elic to the mix when you and Cas are fucked up over each other.
Letting Casper go wasn’t an option. I was in far too deep, although my heart pulled me toward Elic too.
Me: It’s not that easy.
