Page 31 of Sweet Strings


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“Um, a few years,” I say, clearing my throat. I can’t pinpoint when Callum started sneaking away and returning with bruises and broken ribs. All I knew was that he came back lighter and full of life. If only for a few days, that is. Somehow, he managed to get on stage with a smile and makeup covering his wounds.

“River!” shouts Nathan, standing behind the counter with her drink proudly lifted into the air. “And Asser,” he says with a tiny smirk pulling at his lips, slamming my plastic cup onto the counter, causing it to spill.

Huffing, I grab our two drinks and muffins from Nathan, who again gives me a nasty look when I bat River’s hand away as she tries to take her drink. Without handing them over, I secure a booth, hellbent on getting her to sit with me. I know the second I give her a chance, she’ll scurry away with her free meal, and I can’t let that happen. Making amends starts now, and I’ll throw everything in my arsenal to earn her forgiveness.

“But why?” she asks, snatching up her large blueberry muffin and coffee from my side of the table. Studying the blueberries adorning her muffin, she nibbles her bottom lip with contemplation. “Doesn’t seem like his style,” she adds, biting into her muffin with a happy groan.

“No, it doesn’t, but it seems to ground him. I guess,” I say with uncertainty.

The reality is Callum erected thick walls the moment we left Central City. The entire three-day drive from Illinois to California was painfully silent on his end. So much so that you wouldn’t even know he was there. He barely uttered his food orders, let alone let us in to witness how deeply he was hurting. Hell, he still is. Callum has never divulged why he fights on Saturday nights, letting guys bash their fists into his skull, but I have a sneaking suspicion it all loops back to River. All our failures and our successes have always been because of that girl. And here we are again, in an endless circle of leaving and finding each other.

Her eyes meet mine as she sips her coffee. “Grounds him? He snuck out, endangering your contract, and you have no idea why he did it?” She raises a knowing brow. “What the hell happened to Whispered Words, Asher?”

You.That’s what happened to us. Everything about you is embedded in our souls. Apparently, we’re unable to function properly without you in our lives. But I don’t say that. Instead, I smother my words by taking a hot sip of my coffee, risking the damn spit that might be in there.

A deep sigh rocks through me, letting my eyes roam out the windows, taking in the bright sun beaming down on the people outside and continuing their shopping. “A lot of shit happened to us. Fame and fortune.” I shake my head, losing myself in the memories of our past.

“Where the hell is Callum?” I bark, pacing the backstage area with my hands gripping my hair. All the control I’ve carefully crafted over the past few months slips between my fingers like fucking sand and blows in the damn wind.

Kieran sits back, watching me with a calculating eye. “Where the hell do you think he is?”

“I don’t fucking know, but we go on in less than an hour. He wasn’t here for sound check and isn’t here now. Rad, where is he?” I growl, stomping up to Rad, who twirls his drumsticks between his fingers and shrugs.

“Bro, I’m not his keeper. He’ll be here,” Rad says with indifference, frowning as he taps out a beat on his knee.

“Find him!” I bark again, pulling at the collar of Rad’s shirt, bringing him to his feet.

“Get the fuck off me, Asher,” Rad hisses, pressing his nose into mine as violence storms through his eyes. “Do you want to know where the fuck he is? He’s trying to drown away her memory. Something I wish I could fucking do, too. One day I’ll forget, but you know he won’t. Ever. What he saw… What we all saw from that fucking video will live in his genius head forever. Give him some slack. And get the fuck off me.”

“He’s here,” Kieran says lazily, pointing to the door blankly. The light disappeared from his eyes when we left Central City, changing his entire demeanor for the worst.

Silently, Kieran has been falling apart behind closed doors, growing angrier and angrier by the damn day since we left Central City a few months ago and started this gig. For now, we’re playing at smaller venues and trying to expand our fanbase. We’re in the studio during the day, recording our first album with approved songs from our old playlist and new ones we’ve been forced to write. Every piece of this career is worth it, but slowly it’s breaking us apart. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if River had been with us all along.

Fuck. The familiar guilt swims through my veins, crushing through my chest again. Someday soon, this feeling will leave, and I’ll be able to forget about River West and what I did to make her go away. I had to do what I had to do to manage to get us here. No matter the sacrifices I cut off. First, I must keep the damn band together before we implode. I can practically taste success on my tongue because we’re just getting started.

“Callum.” All the breath leaves my lungs at the sight of him slumping against the door frame of our green room. Heavy bags plump out the flesh beneath his eyes. “You look like you’ve been run over by a fucking truck,” I say with horror, marching forward and getting in his face. “Where the hell have you been? And… Have you showered?” I sniff the air, catching the hint of body odor and heavy amounts of alcohol.

“Fuck off,” he grunts, pushing past me and plopping on the couch next to Kieran. “I’m doing just fine.” A whimsical smile falls over his lips when he leans his head back and shuts his eyes. “So, damn good.”

Kieran raises a brow, examining Callum’s face. “Yeah, he’s high as a damn kite right now.” Shaking his head, he leans back and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“High?!” I shout, throwing my arms out. “What the fuck, dude!”

“Chillax, Ash. You’re giving me a damn headache with all your anal bullshit. Dude, take a shower and wash the stink from your ass. We’re on in like thirty minutes,” Rad says, shoving Callum off the couch as he stumbles toward an adjoining bathroom, catching himself on the door. Turning to look at us through hazy eyes, he nods in agreement and promptly slams the door in our faces. The moment a wall separates us from view, the sounds of his retches and gags, followed by vomit hitting the toilet, fill the air. I cringe with my stomach turning and try to tune out the disgusting sounds from the bathroom. There’s no way in hell that we can continue like this and stay together. Something has to give...

“What the fuck?” I hiss, continuing my frantic pacing in front of the guys.

“He’s just trying to forget,” Kieran pipes up again with an indifferent shrug, staring down at his phone. “Leave him alone. Get the stick out of your prude ass.”

I blink a few times, listening to the shower turn on and sigh in relief. Soon we’ll be out on stage, and nothing will take away from that, not even Callum’s newfound drug addiction, which he’ll hopefully leave behind very soon.

I shake myself out of the memory drowning me. It took Callum twenty minutes to shower, which gave us enough time to find him some clean clothes. Our show went without a hitch, despite Callum’s head not being in a suitable space. As soon as the show ended, he disappeared into the night again, only coming back the following day with a black eye and renewed life flashing in his eyes. That night, he promised us he’d leave the drugs behind. And he did. He was somehow giving it up without a fight. Only his new drug was the fight nights he found through the grapevine and aligned himself with some mafia family taking residence at an old, abandoned prep school.

“And you?” River asks, narrowing her eyes, taking the last piece of her muffin. “You’re nothing like the Evil Ash I knew back in Central City. You seem…” She taps her chin several times, trying to find the word she’s looking for. “More settled. Not as uptight as you used to be. Did you finally pull that stick out of your asshole? What changed in your world? Did you finally drop the demon?” Her eyes memorize my passive face, finally meeting my stare, and she smirks. Quickly, she turns away and licks her lips. A red tint explodes across her cheeks as she sits up straight.

I smirk at her outburst, noting how uncomfortable her posture seems, and sip my coffee. “Times change,” I say with a shrug. “People change.” I hum, take a bite of my muffin, and sip my coffee.

The moment I left my hometown, everything lifted from my shoulders. My father was no longer on my back to join his company. In fact, he was no longer in my life. After finding our way to East Point Bluff, I severed ties entirely with the man. The only time I ever heard about him was the news when the bars slammed on his face, and he was sentenced to prison for his crimes, leading to a whole new crock of bullshit. The only feeling that followed me from home was the constant guilt, crushing my soul for manipulating the girl sitting in front of me. Nothing prepares you for that when you decide to betray someone.

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