Chapter 46
FORTY-SIX
ANDY
Tuesday 3:43 a.m.
Declan
*dick pic with the New York sunrise in the background*
Good morning, Mama. We're both thinking of you.
Me
Wow, that's just what every girl dreams of. Waking up to a dick pic.
Not even mad about it.
Declan
Send nudes.
Me
*sends tit pic*
Declan
Fuuuuck those tits. Can’t wait to smother myself in them. I'll be home soon enough.
Me
Four days.
Declan
Four days too fucking long.
Me
Put your dick away and send me a picture of the sunrise.
Declan
*sends pic of New York sunrise*
One day, I will bring you here, and you'll get to try that smash burger.
Me
Can't wait.
Declan
A future with you is all I want. I may not deserve it, but goddamn, I fucking want it.
Me
Stop saying you don't deserve it.
Declan
My head has been a mess lately.
Me
Talk to me.
FaceTime?
Declan
Later, Mama. I don't want you to see me when I'm like this.
Me
Like what?
Declan
When my head is a mess, and I can't fucking find relief.
Me
Did something happen?
Declan
This fucking city brings out the worst in me. Every fucked up memory I have is here.
Me
Tell me three positive things about New York. Good memories you have from living there.
Declan
My son was born here.
Riot started here.
I got out. I got to leave the city that houses my demons, but they've been waiting for me to return.
Sometimes I think everyone around me would be better off without me.
FaceTime call to Declan
Declan
Not now, baby.
Me
You promised me all the tomorrows. That means I'm here for all the good, bad, and ugly that tomorrow may bring.
I am here. Don't shut me out.
Declan
Tell me something good.
Me
I love you.
Incoming call from Declan
"I love you, Andy." His raspy voice fills my ears when I click accept, not waiting for me to speak. His voice sends chills through my veins, my heart pounding at the soothing sound. It's been too fucking long since I've heard him.
I know he loves me, but hearing him say those three words is different. It's everything to me, yet it isn't enough to explain my feelings for him.
Before I can respond, he continues, "Tell me something to keep me going. Something to motivate me to get on that stage tonight."
My heart clenches at the desperate plea in his tone. I'm not sure what's going on with him, but the pain in his voice tells me he's not okay. He needs me.
Without thinking what to tell him, I open my mouth and tell him something he asked me for weeks ago when he was in Vegas. He told me to tell him when he needed a reminder of why he gets on that stage, so I tell him the reason “It's Over Now” is my favorite song.
"When I was fourteen, I tried to kill myself." I let the confession hang between us, gathering the courage to discuss something that I've never shared with another soul. "I took some vodka from the family I babysat for. Filled my water bottle with it, then went home and locked myself in my room. I put my earphones in, started drinking, and then swallowed a bunch of sleeping pills. All I wanted was to be free. Every day was a struggle, and I was tired. Exhaustion consumed every ounce of me, and I was done. I was ready to end it all. I didn't want to be here anymore. Everything inside of me ached. After I swallowed the pills, 'It's Over Now' began playing." His heavy breathing fills my ears, sounding so close to me that I imagine he's here with me when I close my eyes.
Lying beside me in bed with his calloused fingers trailing softly over my skin, looking at me with those brown eyes that could set my soul on fire given the chance.
"The moment you began singing, it felt like you were speaking to me directly. You put lyrics to everything that I had felt and was going through. You understood me." I remember that day like it was yesterday, alone in my bedroom. My knees to my chest, rocking back and forth as my body shook with silent sobs, my soul crushed, and my body physically aching with the internal pain I'd been holding and keeping to myself. I never had anyone to talk to. Never voiced how I felt. But then I heard Declan's voice for the first time. "You made me feel seen. Like it was okay to break down as long as I got up, brushed myself off, and continued living because tomorrow will always be better, and I need to be alive to see that. Maybe not tomorrow or the next day, but one of these days, my tomorrow will be better."
I'd been drowning, screaming for someone to reach out a hand and pull me up from under the water. But no one heard my screams. I'd given up hope of someone ever hearing them… until him.
"Andy," he rasps, voice full of emotion.
"You saved me, Declan. I was sick for several days, and while I was stuck in bed, I listened to all your songs on repeat, watched videos, and memorized the lyrics. And you were right, because one day, my tomorrow was better. I didn't want to die anymore. I'm glad I didn't because I would’ve missed out on so much."
Pain is temporary. It may not feel like it now, but one day, it will get better. And I'm so fucking happy that I am here to see better days. I am so fucking happy that I didn't give in to the darkness that crept into my mind during those darkest days.
I survived.
I'm alive.
Everyone is fighting a silent battle; unfortunately, many people give in to the pain of not wanting to be here anymore. Some succeed, others fail.
I am one of those people who gave in. Who so desperately wanted the pain to end. All I could think was how much happier I'd be once dead. I'd get to see my grandparents again.
Be free.
"I am just one person out of your millions of fans. You have no idea how many other people you're helping by pouring your heart onto the page and giving a piece of yourself to your fans. If it weren't for you, Declan, I wouldn't be here. I would've tried again. And again. And again. However many attempts it would've taken to become successful."
"You're giving me too much credit, Andy."
"No, I'm not. When you put that pen to paper and write the thoughts in your head, it's poetry. You may not see it as art, but it fucking is, and you're saving lives by doing what you do. I can promise you that. I'm not just stroking your ego, Dec."
His breathing hitches, and for a long minute, he's silent, so I continue, "Don't ever doubt yourself. When you step onto that stage tonight, I want you to remember that you are saving lives."
"Thank you, Andy. I needed to hear that." His exhale is heavy. "I was twenty-one when I wrote that song one night. My depression was worse than ever, and I'd been going through some shit. The only way I could express what I was feeling was by writing it down. My mind was a constant mess, and I wanted to escape. I wanted to be out of my skin and be someone else. The only way I escaped was by doing drugs." He clicks his tongue. "Look how well that turned out for me."
"I wish you could see yourself how I see you," I say, throwing the words back at him that he once told me. "Wish you could see what a beautiful mind you have and how incredible you are. You are truly fucking amazing, Declan." Once, I thought he was a selfish prick, but I've quickly learned that Declan Valentine is anything but selfish.
"Apart from Max, you're one of my favorite people," I admit, my voice low.
His deep chuckle fills the line. "Considering you hate people, I'll take that as a compliment." We sit in silence, listening to the other breathing.
When I think he's fallen asleep based on his low, steady breathing, he says, "Say it, baby. I need to hear those three words, even if it's a lie." I know what he wants to hear—what he needs to hear—so I tell him easily. No lies are required.
"I love you." The words slip off my tongue easily, hanging heavy in the distance between us. He's the first man I've ever said it to, and I know without a doubt in my mind he'll be the last.
Declan Valentine will forever be the only man I will ever love.
One day, forty years from now, I'll tell my grandchildren the story of us and the summer I spent falling in love with the man with haunted brown eyes and demons in his beautiful mind.
"Go back to sleep, Mama. We'll talk when you wake up." We disconnect, but I don't go back to sleep.
Instead, I call Adam.