8. Raleigh
Raleigh
8
He’s gorgeous, just as he’s always been. He was nineteen when I last saw him, but he’s so much bigger now. His arms have filled out, and even beneath his suit jacket, I can tell how strong he is. His dark, floppy hair is still the same but edgier. It’s like he’s finally figured out how to tame it.
A sharp, masculine jaw dances below light stubble, and as my heart races out of control, I feel all the coldness within me begin to warm. Even as a teenager, he had this effect on me. He could simply walk into a room, and suddenly I’d see the world in vibrant colors. Judging by the way their fans scream for him, he does the same for them too.
He’s not mine anymore, he’s theirs.
The paparazzi do their thing, and even from inside, I can hear the press throwing questions at him, and for the first time since leaving six years ago, I feel sorry for him. While this is the life he signed up for, I’m sure he never expected it to be this unforgiving.
The guests within the church begin to stir, and I can’t help but look back up the aisle and watch as Rock and Dylan stride in. They nod to people, shake hands, and management welcomes them. As they make their way down the aisle, their gazes come to mine, and they come right over.
“Rae, it’s been way too long,” Dylan says as I get to my feet. He doesn’t allow me even a chance to smile before he pulls me into his strong arms. “I’m so sorry. Ax was . . . He was the best friend I’ve ever known.”
He presses a kiss to my cheek and squeezes me a little tighter before finally releasing me, only for Rock to step in and take his place. “Hey Rae,” he murmurs as his hand gently roams up and down my back. “How’re you doing?”
“From the looks of it, about as well as you are,” I tell him, noticing the red rims around his tired eyes.
Rock pulls back, releasing me, but he grips my hand and gently squeezes. “I know just how hard this is going to be,” he tells me. “I don’t want you to be alone. Why don’t you come sit with us? You know you’re always welcome.”
“Thanks,” I say with a small smile, wondering if Lenny from the label put him up to this before immediately dismissing the thought. Rock is just a nice guy, and clearly that hasn’t worn off. “I just . . . I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“You sure?” he asks, just as an even louder stir comes, telling me that Ezra has just walked in.
“Oh yeah,” I say, giving him a knowing look. “I’m sure.”
“Alright,” he says, knowing not to push me on this as he releases my hand. “Well, we’re right here if you change your mind. And that doesn’t just count for today. I know we haven’t been back home in a while, but you’re family, Rae. Always will be.”
I nod, not able to form a proper response as the words get caught up in my throat, and before I turn into an emotional wreck, I sit back down and watch Rock and Dylan make their way up to Axel’s casket to say goodbye.
The tears are heavy in my eyes, and I quickly wipe them away when I feel his presence. It’s electrifying, like the other half of my soul that’s been missing for so long is floating nearby, begging me to reach out and grab it.
I can’t help but discreetly glance over my shoulder and watch as he walks down the aisle, but the moment my eyes reach his face, his gaze shifts and collides with mine. Then just like the very first day I met him, I become locked in his orbit.
It’s impossible to look away, and with every step he takes down the aisle, the tension between us becomes unbearable. I’ve never felt anything like it. So many unsaid words, so many emotions. Pain. Regret. Heartache. Each one of them lingers between us, crippling me in a way I know I’ll never recover from.
I struggle to take a breath, and as if knowing just how hard this is for me, he cuts away, dropping his gaze and breaking the vicious intensity.
Ezra joins Rock and Dylan at the casket, and the whole congregation falls silent as if trying to hear what’s being said, and I take a moment to trail my gaze over him. I always knew he went all out with tattoos the same way Axel did. They’re peeking out from beneath his suit, just enough to leave me wanting to explore, to see what pieces meant so much to him that he had to have them put on to his skin. Then a sick thought occurs that if I were really that desperate to know, I could just Google it, because the internet now knows him in a way I never have.
The boys begin to shift away from the casket, and as if on cue, the blinding flashes from the paparazzi invade the church.
People gasp, desperately searching for where it’s coming from before finding them with their cameras shoved up against the church windows. The boys hastily move away and find their seats, but tomorrow’s headlines have already been solidified, and there’s not a damn thing they can do about it.
Security tackles the paparazzi, and when the church finally finds just a shred of privacy, Axel’s funeral service finally begins.
His favorite songs play softly behind a montage of images and achievements, and every story told is more heartbreaking than the last. When the sound of his most treasured guitar solo fills the church, my tears begin cascading down my cheeks.
Twenty minutes in, I hear my name, and I quickly wipe my face before digging into my purse and pulling out the folded paper that I’ve written and rewritten a million times over the past week. No matter what I wrote down, it never seemed to be enough. Nothing seemed right.
Making my way up front, I take my position behind the dais and look out over the crowd, doing everything I can to avoid the one set of eyes I want to drown in.
As I unfold my paper, a slight panic hits me that my father could be in the crowd somewhere, but I push my trauma aside and do what I can to pull myself together.
I clear my throat and glance up again, my hands shaking as I try not to see the flood of celebrities, but simply the faces of those who cared about him just as much as I always have.
“I never thought I’d have to eulogize my brother,” I start, already going off script. “Many of you have known him in recent years. His band took off six years ago, and since then, he’s been the apple of everyone’s eyes, but not many of you got to experience Axel in his younger years.”
I take a breath, already feeling my voice begin to waver. “Axel was three when I was born, and my childhood years with him were the happiest times of my life, though I don’t think he ever knew that. He was always patient with me, always kind, caring, and larger than life. He never pushed me away, was never irritated by his little sister always being around, never berated or shamed me. He was my biggest champion, right up until the day he was taken from this life.”
“He—” my voice cracks, and the lump in my throat is too much to bear. Tears flow over and cascade down my face, and every remaining piece of me crumbles. My gaze shifts toward the casket, wishing there were some way it would just open up and he’d walk right out, but he’s never coming back.
“He was—” I try again, but the words refuse to come, and as I look back toward the crowd, my gaze lands on Ezra’s. There’s a brokenness there, and I know he’s feeling every ounce of my pain. He goes to get up, to help me through the final words of my eulogy, but Dylan beats him to it, already stepping into my side.
He captures my hand behind the dais and gives a gentle squeeze. “I’ve got you, Rae,” Dylan says before scanning my messy speech and picking up right where I left off.
It seems to last forever, when in reality it’s only a few minutes before I finally get to step down and make my way back to my seat, only as I pass by Ezra’s row, his hand sneaks out and captures mine. I pause, glancing down and meeting his heavy stare as a million messages pass between us.
My skin burns where he touches me, and for just a moment, I’m rooted to the spot, unable to move. I can’t look away, and as he squeezes my hand, I want nothing more than to fall into his strong arms and feel the way he holds me, feel the way he brings me home, but remembering the agony he left me in all those years ago, I drop my gaze to where he holds me, distantly noticing a familiar ring on his finger—Axel’s ring—and I pull my hand free before finally turning my back.
I can’t take it today. I can’t handle seeing him, feeling him. I need to get out of here.
My heart races as I make my way back to my seat, and as Ezra is called up after me, my knee bounces, counting down the minutes until I can race out of the church and take a deep breath.
The pain is too great. It hurts too much. How am I ever supposed to go on without Axel?
Ezra makes his way to the front, and the eager crowd seems much more thrilled about hearing his speech than mine. He clears his throat, and just like that, the Ezra show has been turned on. “Axel was my best friend and the reason I am who I am today, not that I’m exactly someone to be proud of, and yet he was. No matter what shit I got myself into, he was always right there. He had my back, just as I had his, and I’m proud to say that right up until the day he died, he was able to achieve everything he wanted, every dream, no matter how big or small.”
Ezra pauses, taking a slight breath. “He had three great loves in his life—his mom, his beautiful sister, Raleigh, and performing for our fans night after night, which was his greatest dream of all—a dream he pulled me into before I even had a chance to question it.” The congregation laughs and Ezra has no choice but to wait so he can be heard. “The day I first met him,” he continues, his hypnotic gaze shifting to me. “It was easily the best day of my life. My father had moved us to Michigan for work, and there in our new small hometown, my life changed. My first day of school, I met Axel, and within ten minutes of meeting, he was already demanding that I come home with him to start a band. At that point, I’d never heard him play, but there was something so compelling about him that I agreed. That afternoon, Demon’s Curse was born, and everything in my life somehow became so much brighter. I found my purpose, and for the first time, I felt a true love for not only music, but for these new people in my life.”
He goes on to explain their time together and how it shaped him to be the man he is today—someone who’s nothing but a stranger to me now.
His words are calming, and as his deep tone fills the church, I’m able to breathe easy for the first time since Madds pried me awake in tears.
When Ezra finally wraps up his speech and heads to his seat, another video of my brother plays. Axel’s goofy smile fills the screen, and the sound of his carefree laugh hypnotizes me. The grainy backstage footage was from someone’s phone, and the thrill in his eyes breaks my heart all over again, knowing this might be the very last time I ever see this side of my brother.
He was everything. The light in every room. The fire in everyone’s hearts, and now there’s nothing but emptiness.
The funeral comes to an end, and as I sit here listening to the people pouring out of the church, I’m forced to face the fact that it’s all over. I have no choice but to say goodbye to the one man who’s always been there for me, the one who never gave up, and the only man in my life who didn’t break me.
Grief bubbles up viciously, and as I cry into my hands, I try to find a way to make this any easier, but there’s no use, nothing will ever make this okay.
“Rae,” that familiar tone says, standing way too close for comfort.
My head snaps up to find Ezra standing over me, so close that I can see the agony in his dark eyes, smell that familiar scent, and see the hint of his tattoos creeping out beneath the neckline of his dress shirt.
He creeps closer, his hand reaching toward me, and I spring out of my seat, grabbing my purse as I quickly back away from his touch. “No. Don’t,” I panic, already having to deal with too much of this man for one day.
“Rae, please.”
He steps toward me again, but this time, I know better, and I turn my back and race for the exit with tears streaming down my face. “Raleigh, come on. Don’t leave like this.”
Ezra hurries after me, and just as I reach the massive open doors in the foyer, his warm hand curls around my elbow, pulling me to a stop. “Come on, Rae. You can’t leave. Just give me a second to—”
“To what?” I cry while pulling my arm free, all too aware of the people around me and the hundreds of paparazzi just a few feet away, pointing their fancy cameras at us in the doorway. “To finally give me the answers I’ve been begging for all week? To apologize for letting me find out through social media? To admit that this was all your fault?”
“What?” he says as his brows furrow. “My fault?”
“He was strung out on drugs and alcohol, right?” I demand, having heard the exact same news report that everyone else had—that the toxicology report stated that at the time of death, there were large amounts of cocaine in his system. “You know he was never into that shit before you. If it weren’t for you—if you never took him away—”
He reaches for me. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”
I pull out of his reach. “You don’t get to touch me,” I growl, the tears rolling down my cheeks in waves. I take a breath, willing myself to find just a little more strength. “Tell me what happened.”
Ezra just stares at me, refusing to respond, but the heartache in his eyes tells me exactly what I need to know—that I was right. That this world is what killed him. Whether it be drugs or alcohol, it was only a matter of time before the bullshit caught up to him, and now that bullshit has left me more alone than ever.
Heat rises inside of me like burning lava, and I find myself creeping in closer, wanting everyone else to hurt just as much as I do. “When you left, I knew everything was going to change, but I begged you for one thing. I begged you to keep him safe,” I remind him, that day so clear in my mind. “You failed him, Ezra. You failed me.”
I see the very moment everything crumbles inside of him, and he reaches for me again. “Rae.”
“No,” I whimper, my bottom lip quivering. “I’m done. I’ve waited six years for you, but I’m done. Just go back to pretending I don’t exist. It’s better for everyone that way.”
I turn away, crossing my arms over my chest, but not being brave enough to face the press just yet, I simply hover nearby as Ezra stares at me, the pain rolling off him in waves.
It’s only a moment before Rock and Dylan crowd around us, and as Rock steps into me and pulls me into his arms, I try to force a comforting smile across my face. “We’re going to have a little party in Axel’s honor, celebrate everything that he achieved, you know, stuff like that. Do you want to come?”
I shake my head and squeeze his hand. “No, but thank you. I just want to get home so I can crawl into a hole and remain there until the end of time.”
“Fair call,” he says. “But you know where to find us if you change your mind.”
Rock leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek, and not a second later, he’s replaced by Dylan, wrapping his arms around us. “Don’t be such a stranger, okay?”
“I’ll try,” I tell him, squeezing him right back. “And thanks. I wouldn’t have been able to get through that eulogy without you.”
“No problem, Rae. You know you’re like a sister to me.”
I give him a tight smile, and just like that, their security ushers the boys out of the church, and all I can do is watch Ezra stride past me, the agony in his eyes like nothing I’ve ever seen. It takes only a moment before the boys disappear into the crowd, and before I know it, Ezra is gone from my life once again.
“I hope everything was to your liking,” a gruff voice says beside me.
I glance up to find Lenny Davidson, the head of the boys’ label and presumably the man behind this big, outrageous funeral. “That’s a joke, right? Did you even know Axel at all? He would have hated every moment of this. It’s not at all what he would have wanted, but as usual, you’re too focused on the money it could have brought in and appeasing the millions of fans instead of giving him the send-off he truly would have wanted,” I say, having heard Axel’s complaints on more than one occasion. “Not to mention, your team couldn’t answer a single one of my phone calls to give me answers on how this actually happened, to the point my number was blocked. I had to learn everything online, and on top of that, when I emailed to request an invitation for a friend to accompany me so I didn’t have to face this alone, it was ignored. So no, not a single bit of this has been to my liking. Where are the people Ax and I grew up with? Where are our aunts and uncles, our cousins? Where’s the small hometown funeral by the lake? Where is the mention of him being buried with my mother?”
The tears come in faster, but I force myself to get these last few words out. “My brother is dead, and all I’m left with is a mountain of questions about how such a successful label could have failed him so badly. Where were his minders? Who was responsible for supplying his cocaine? Axel deserved so much better from his label,” I tell him. “Do better . . . because the way those boys are going, it’ll be one of them you’re burying next.”
And with that, I stride out of the church and walk away.