AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Patrick Oswald.” I speak his name softly, afraid to say it loud. “Get him out of here.”
She looks at me, putting the pieces together. “When?” She asks.
“Two years ago.”
“Okay.” She sighs. “But we have got to get to side stage. You have a show to play.”
I play through my set decent enough. I even convinced Sue to let me do my usual two encore songs to appease the fans.
I walk off the stage after the encore and head straight to my dressing room. I do two bumps and pick up the bottle of vodka from the floor, taking a chug.
I’m done with feeling for the day. I’m done with everything.
I start packing up my things, taking a few sips of vodka as I do it. I miss Wes so much it aches, but the vodka is numbing it.
I head out of my dressing room with my things, heading straight to the exit of the venue, not bothering to look around at whoever may still be lingering back there. I want the safety of my bus now.
I’m walking out of the venue when I see Ben leaning against the wall, having another cigarette.
“Hey. Have you heard?” He greets me with a question.
“What?”
“There is a chance it’s Patrick’s kid, not Wes’s.”
“Oh.” This is new information. “Really?”
“Seems they’ve been on again and off again since getting caught. Well, probably before then, but you know, semantics.” He shrugs, feigning indifference. I’m starting to think maybe he does care about Wes.
“Oh.” Did that change anything? She seemed so sure it was Wes’s. But, of course, she is a liar. She cheated on him, after all.
“Yeah.” He nods. “You know, I’ve seen Wes get pretty upset before, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him throw a punch like that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He nods again. “But then I don’t think Patrick and you really hooked up, did you?”
“Semantics.” I whisper.
“I always knew I didn’t like that guy.” Ben comments, putting out his cigarette.
I don’t know how he knew, but he seemed to understand. I wonder if Wes told him or if he just put two and two together. Either way, I don’t really know what to say about that.
“I have to go.”
“Goodnight, Abbey.” He smiles.
“Goodnight, Ben.”
I walk to my bus and find Wes leaning against it, smoking a cigarette.
“It might not be mine.” He blurts out when he sees me. “It could be Patrick’s.”
“So I heard.”
“From who?” He asks, a little taken back.
“Ben.” He nods, as if that makes sense. “Did you tell him about Patrick and me?”
