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I’m hot and sweaty after an afternoon on the roof playing with the band. The interview went great, lunch was fine, but you could tell Atlas, Draven, and I were excited to jam with Layla by the afternoon.
Even Layla seemed a little freer as we finished up our commitments for the day, and didn’t fight us working on her new songs. Her voice is incredible, and her words tug at my soul.
It’s been a while since I’ve felt so light, even as dark and sad as some of her lyrics were. This is the real Layla, and this is who I want to get to know.
Jogging into the elevator, I press the button for the twelfth floor. I have my guitar with me, and I want to hit the shower. Everyone else is chatting as they break things down, but I wanted to get a jump on things.
I need to talk to Atlas about where his head is at, but I think we should pursue Layla. It may seem like a jump to some people, but we’ve wasted so much time. So many years running awayfrom what was right in front of us over something as dumb as age.
It’s a number, not a death sentence. No wonder Lennon won’t speak to us.
Blowing out a breath as I ride the elevator down, I think about any roadblocks we may have, but can’t really think of any. Tyler obviously doesn’t have a problem with sharing her, and I think Atlas is slowly changing his mind about Layla as well.
I know this is going to be confusing for her, I just need to show her that I’m serious and I’m so sorry for everything.
Stepping out of the elevator onto our floor once it arrives, I sigh as I take a right toward my room. My mind races as I wonder how I can show her how sorry I am. I’m riddled in shame as I rewind her lyrics over and over in my head.
Every harsh word, every thing that shows how entrenched Layla’s imposter syndrome is inside of her. My mother used to tell me that words don’t mean shit if you fuck things up, you need to be willing to do anything it takes to fix what you broke.
My mother was a good woman. She’d kick my ass if she saw who I am now.
Atlas and I almost broke Layla. She shone today in a way I haven’t ever seen before, and I want to see more of it.
Opening the door, I put away my guitar as I look around the room. There’s a small fridge with snacks, so I start pulling things out and set up a fruit board with cheese. It’s lame, but everything in me wants to feed this girl. She worked really hard today and it’s already early evening.
She needs to eat.
Scrawling out a message, I write:
Please snack when you get back.
-Mav
Too much? Too little? Ugh, fuck my life. What am I even doing right now? I need to move, so that I won’t rearrange the fruit board for the third time. I don’t know how to be sweet anymore without just being corny.
Picking up the ice bucket, I decide to grab some new ice for the smoothie drinks in the fridge. I’ve been dating Atlas for so long, I’m out of practice at being sweet. He doesn’t need romance or anything and is very adamant about it.
I know he loves me because of the way he looks at me when no one is watching.
It’s broken me a little of how to be nice to a girl I like, so I feel like a bumbling fool. I’m so in my thoughts as I make sure to grab my hotel key and head out with the ice bucket, that I barely acknowledge the dark haired man fiddling with his door. Maybe it’s stuck?
Ignoring him, I start trudging to the end of the hallway. I swear, they couldn’t have made it further?—
Someone grabs my hair, shoving their fist into my mouth when I open it to yell. It’s an effective way to gag someone, even as I bite down on his hand. A metallic taste fills my mouth as the man behind me grunts in pain.
I use the bucket as a weapon, immediately wondering if we aren’t as safe as we think. Fuck, Layla and Atlas will be here soon.
What if…
“Just calm down,” a deep voice mutters as a thumb is pressed hard against the pressure point in my neck. I’ve always been really sensitive in this area, so I fight harder before I inevitably pass out.
Kicking, biting, elbows digging into the man’s stomach, I do it all. I can feel two people struggling behind me as I fight and attempt to pull away. “We have some questions, it’ll just take a moment. It’s about the little blonde girl.”
I can feel darkness crowding into my vision, and the bucket is taken from me and thrown when I manage to connect to someone’s head.
Fuck, Layla…
