第28章
GIVE IT UP
“Lex, did you know they were already putting out flyers for it?” I ask, still kind of star-struck.
Our last tour was virtually advertised and on a much smaller scale.
We’d scrounged up money from sales, tickets, and everything else just to barely skate by last time.
But we are headlining this tour. The money aspect isn’t our problem now that we have a record label backing us.
I’m fucking giddy, honestly. Admittedly, I haven’t taken to the changes as well as I'd like. I’m regretting that now because just…
look. Dreadful is going places. It’s all paying off.
“Lex?” I ask when he doesn’t answer and finally glance over my shoulder.
“Where did he go?” Michael blurts, looking left and right.
Confused and very fucking worried now, I scan the sidewalk for him. Was I being too forward? Did I make him uncomfortable with all the sneaky touches? It’s possible, but he didn’t seem to mind yesterday.
I mean, he purposefully lured me into that Starbucks bathroom to suck my face.
What the fuck happened? Maybe he got a call, and he’s around the corner or something.
“I’m going to go look for him,” I tell Michael.
He scratches at his neck, face unreadable. “Do you still want to get breakfast?”
My stomach twists.
It’s been a long time since he and I have done anything together. Just us.
While one half of my heart thumps harder at the idea, the other half is screaming that something is wrong and that I should go find Lex.
I got…caught up in Michael. He fucking hugged me—threw his arm around my shoulders, and I glitched.
It felt good. Natural. Like he’s always done that sort of thing, even though we both know he never has.
Michael is my friend, though. No matter how much I wish things were different, he’s made it clear that’s all it will ever be.
Lex, on the other hand…I want him too much to abandon him. He was fine, not even five minutes ago. Blushing. Being his usual prissy princess self. I have to check on him.
“Just get me something to go, yeah?” I hope my voice doesn’t give away my urgency.
Michael nods, but it’s clipped. His face fucking blank. “Sounds good.”
Without wasting another minute, I start running.
Winded doesn’t even begin to describe how exhausted I feel after running through downtown like a madman.
Sure, I could’ve called for an Uber, but I needed to make sure Lex wasn’t walking all alone out here. When I couldn’t find him, I just headed back to the hotel. I’m panting, pressing the up button aggressively as the doors slide open. Once inside the car, I pace the small square.
My mind goes over everything that happened since we woke up this morning.
Did the short thing piss him off? Lex has never cared about his height before.
Granted, I’ve rarely mentioned it because I like how small he is.
And while I’ve talked shit about other things I love about him, the height felt too…
petty. He could be two feet tall and still walk all over us.
I get to my floor and bolt from the elevator. Checking the time on my phone, I cringe when I realize I’ve been searching a foreign city for nearly an hour. For the life of me, I can’t figure out what happened—what I did wrong.
I’ve been respecting him, doing what he says. He wanted to keep shit between us, and I have. It’s eating me alive, not being able to cling to him like a second skin.
Fuck, I just want to hold the guy. Kiss him up and make him blush for me.
Dropping the keycard like six times, I growl in frustration. I manage to get the damn door open and freeze once I step inside.
All his stuff is gone.
The bed is freshly made up, as if the room service had already come and gone.
There’s no sign he was ever even here.
Panic overrides all logic as I punch my thumbs over my phone, pull up his number, and call him.
It keeps ringing before going to his voicemail.
“This is Lex Hale, Manager of Dreadful. Please leave a detailed message, and I’ll return your call.”
When the beep sounds in my ear, I explode. “Lex, what the hell? Where are you?” I sound like a possessive, toxic ex. “You can’t just fucking walk away like that and not say anything. I’m freaking out. Call me back.” I hang up and then repeat the cycle.
After the third call, it goes straight to voicemail. Doesn’t even ring.
So, I start texting.
Me: I’m not mad. I’m worried. What’s wrong?
Why did you just leave?
Did I do something? Come on… Baby, please text me back. Tell me where you are.
No response.
No read receipt.
Fuck.
Fuck!
I start blowing up the rest of my bandmates. And when I finally get a reply from Kelly, my heart breaks.
Kelly: He booked a flight back home. Something about needing space, and he’s okay, not to worry.
Me: He’s afraid of airplanes.
Kelly: He’s a big boy, Dev. I didn’t know you cared.
I do care.
He might’ve said we weren’t sitting together on the flight back home, but I already planned a way to make sure we did. So I could hold him and talk him through it. So I could bring him snacks and candy.
My eyes are wet as I stare at her text, so long it goes blurry.
He just left. After all the progress we’ve made. After I pushed way out of my comfort zone to please him—to show him just how down for this I am.
That I want another shot.
That I’m trying to forgive him.
And he left me.
Like I’m nothing.
“I’m afraid,” he whispers. “That I’ll want it too much.”
Guess he decided then.
He really didn’t want it that much—didn’t want me.
Michael, Jorge, Oli, Kelly, and I flew back home two days later.
Eli and Phoenix had to stay a bit longer to settle all his house bullshit and his crazy aunt. I moped around, ignored my best friend’s attempts to get me out of my funk, and was overall miserable to be around.
When we got back to California, I isolated in my apartment.
Eventually, I had to show my face in the studio, and Lex wasn’t there. He hasn’t shown up for weeks.
I can’t get him to respond to any calls or texts—not even DMs on social media.
He’s a fucking ghost, and I’m so damn angry I can hardly function.
Despite ignoring me, he’s been in communication with everyone else.
Sending his demands for us via texts. I’ve never felt more used in my entire life—more wrecked.
I stopped being nice about a week after we got home.
I’d get drunk and send the most cruel shit. Then I’d take it all back once I sobered up. I’ve barely eaten. It feels like a breakup, but we were never together to begin with.
I let my guard down, allowed him to see the part of me I rarely show anyone, because the needy fucker inside me gets hurt.
And it’s deep.
Everyone knows something is wrong, and despite myself, I haven’t said a single word about what happened in that hotel room.
I’m ashamed.
He got me wrapped around his little finger in the span of a few days, and I’m still going through withdrawals.
So, now that I’m packing for the first leg of the tour, knowing I’ll be on a fucking tour bus with the little asshole, I’m preparing for the worst. It’s going to be horrible because there’s no way it won’t be.
I’m halfway through stuffing unfolded shirts into my duffel bag when my phone starts ringing.
Children of Bodom’s Morrigan blasts through my apartment.
I sigh.
Huffing and puffing, I march over to where it’s plugged into the charger and answer, “Yeah?”
“I’m coming over.”
“Why?” I say dryly and go back to what I was doing.
“Because you’ve been a miserable piece of shit for two months and I’m sick of it.”
Well, ain’t that the pot calling the kettle black?
I want to tell him he’s a hypocrite, but I can’t stomach it, either. I’m just confused, pretty devastated, and…a miserable piece of shit, like he said.
“Fine,” I concede.
“Be there soon.”