Chapter 5 Derek
Derek
You vanished like daybreak,
Lost stars and forgotten night.
You haunt me like a shadow,
Clingy and relentless.
You haunt me like her.
You faded like a photograph,
Broken memories and echoes of lost dreams,
You stalk me like my conscience,
Vile and futile,
You stalk me like pieces of her.
Stars die and places merge,
You turned my rebellion into a
Resentment that burns.
All-consuming and exhausting,
You hate me like her.
No, you hate me like me.
Vanished day and faded moments,
Broken memories and lost dreams,
Stars burn too bright before they extinguish,
And baby, I’m blazing for you.
Yeah, you hate me like me.
Girl, I fucking love you like you.
I love you more than the stars,
In spite of the loss,
Beyond the destruction.
You glow; I sear,
Together, we’re too bright
To smother.
So I’ll suffocate on our hurt,
And wrap you in my love,
Because, Stellina, it’s always been you.
I hold the last note, letting my emotion—the fucking pain and crushing guilt, the sinful shame and desperate hope—swell forward. It weaves through my tone, elevating my music into poetry. Giving Allegra the words, the explanation, I’ve held back for far too long.
“Fuck, Reign,” the sound engineer, Pete, spits into the mic.
I open my eyes and manage a grin. “What do you think?”
“I think you just went platinum, motherfucker,” he replies.
I snort and hang up my guitar. When I enter the room with my producer, Sam, he clasps my shoulder. “That was epic, Reign. That’s your next single.”
“That was personal,” I admit.
He smirks. “Best kind of songwriting there is.”
I sigh and grip the back of my neck. Vulnerability skates down my spine.
My fingers twitch. Now that I let it all pour out, my tumultuous feelings and complicated thoughts, the mother who fucking haunts me, even from the grave, and the woman I don’t deserve, even when I’m trying, I feel exposed.
Raw and simultaneously overflowing and empty.
I shake my head. “You think I should bring the band in?”
“Not on this,” Pete murmurs.
Sam cuts him a look before glancing at me. “You want them in on this?”
“No,” I decide. “This…it’s personal. When they listen to it, they’ll get that.
They’ll understand.” The last thing I want to do is stir more shit up between my band members and myself.
But this song, it’s for Allegra. It’s her song and every word sung, every note played, should be by me. And only me.
“Send it to them,” Pete says. “I’m sending you the file. You should share it.”
Sam nods. “See what they think. Let me know what you want to do.”
“Okay,” I agree. “Thanks, Pete. Sam. Appreciate you both coming in today.”
“Anytime, Reign.” Pete grins.
Sam smacks my shoulder again. “Get out of here. Get some sleep. You look exhausted.”
“Yeah,” I snort. “See ya around.” Ducking my head, I slip out of the studio.
It feels weird, coming and going to this space without the guys. But the past few weeks, the only thing filling the void in my soul and pausing the endless chatter in my mind is music. And this song…fuck, it’s finally where I want it.
Before I can second-guess myself, I pull up the file Pete sent and drop it in a band group chat.
Me: Been working on something. What do you think?
Then, I head to the brownstone, take a shower, and pass out.
I wake up hours later to my phone ringing.
“Yeah?” I answer without checking the caller ID.
“You mean what you wrote?” Levi’s voice pulls me up short.
I sit up in bed, my room darkened by dusk, and scrub the sleep from my eyes. My mind reels to catch up to his question. “You listened to the song.” I clear my throat.
“Is it about my sister?”
“Yes,” I admit. “Yes, it’s for Allegra. And yeah, I mean it. I fucking love her, Levi.”
He heaves out a long exhale. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I sputter. What the hell does that mean? Okay, he likes the song. Okay, he doesn’t hate the idea of me fighting for Allegra. Okay…what?
“Okay, I get it,” he clarifies. “This whole time, part of me thought you were screwing with her. And then, the fact that you guys were…whatever…behind my back and I didn’t see it, it bothered me. But in this song…” He trails off.
I work a swallow.
“Fuck, bro,” Levi finally murmurs. “You laid your soul bare.”
“Yeah,” I agree, clearing my throat again. I don’t know how to talk about this shit. I mean, I can confide in Dre and give my truths to Allegra, but within the band, it’s always been easier to hold back. Let things out through the music, the lyrics, instead.
“You care about her,” he determines.
“I love her,” I clarify.
Then, Levi laughs. He chuckles and wheezes and fucking snorts.
“Why is that funny?” I bite out.
“It’s not,” he manages in-between his laughter. “It’s…I’m relieved, Derek.” The fact that he calls me Derek isn’t lost on me. These past few months, I’ve been Reign.
Hearing him call me Derek again allows me to relax some, and I lean back against the pillows at my headboard.
“How’s she doing?” I ask.
Levi’s laughter fades. “She misses you,” he admits.
“I miss her.”
“Keep trying. Keep reaching out. Don’t give up on her, Derek. She…”
“She what?” I pounce.
“She needs you more than she thinks she does. More than she realizes.”
I frown at his word choice. “What’s that—”
“I think you should release the song. Go at it solo but share it with our fans, with the world. It’s a song that deserves to be shared and loved. Nice work, brother.”
“Thanks, man,” I say, appreciating his words.
“Yeah.”
“We gonna record an album soon?” I ask. Levi already knows we’re on deck to start recording, but I’m asking if we’re going to do it as friends. As brothers. Instead of bandmates with a rift between us.
“I’m ready, Derek. Are you?” he tosses the ball back in my court.
I grin. “Been ready, mate.”
Levi chuckles. “Good. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Yeah. Speak soon.”
Levi ends the call and I stare at the phone in my hand. Shaking my head, I slip from bed and pull on a pair of shorts and a hoodie. All those months of not speaking, or one-word responses to band business, of feeling like I lost my best friend, gone in an instant.
He accepts me. Forgives me. Doesn’t hate me.
And hell, I’ve missed him.
My phone buzzes and I swipe it to check the group thread.
Mav: I fucking cried, you awful monster.
I laugh.
Jameson: This song is a hit, Derek. Release it.
Mav: Yeah, do you, bro.
Levi: Agreed.
Mav: Ooh, the Rousell brother has entered the chat! Does this mean the Cold War is…dare I say it? Melting…
Levi: Fuck off.
Jameson: Still hostile.
Mav: (three laughing face emojis)
Me: Mav, can I drop the track?
Mav: The sooner the better! Proud of you, Reign.
I don’t respond to that because…what would I say? But some of the pressure in my chest eases at Mav’s message.
Me: Keep you posted on it. When do you want to start recording?
Jameson: Two weeks?
Mav: Boston or LA?
Levi: Can we start in LA? A and I moved into a two-bedroom and…things are going well here.
Jameson: That’s good, man. Sure, LA it is.
Me: I’ll hit up Hendrix to schedule studio time.
Mav: Sweet! See you soon, bitches!
Me: You are such a fucking girl sometimes.
Mav: Says my all-time favorite biotch.
Rolling my eyes, I chuckle. Fucking Mav.
But in two weeks, we start recording. I glance at the notebook on the end of my bed. It’s already filled with song lyrics and ideas. Energy hums through my veins, my fingers itching to get to work. To write more songs and make great music.
But first, I’ll drop a single. Stellina’s song.
I scroll through my contacts and pull up Sam’s number. Then, I plop into a chair and give him a call.
May 8
7:52 p.m.
Derek,
I got an interview! Can you believe that? It’s for a position with the NGO I’m volunteering at, serving homelessness in the greater LA area. I really hope it pans out.
My interview is next week. It’s crazy to think I’m graduating in a few weeks but even crazier to know that I might have full-time employment lined up by then.
Ha! Stop worrying about me and the NGO. The area is well-lit, and I am perfectly capable of walking to my car at night. If I get the job, I’ll be logging more hours there anyway.
Since it’s not an official job offer and I’m nervous, I haven’t said anything to Levi or the girls yet but… I wanted to tell you.
Hope you’re having a good week,
Allegra
Her email brings a smile to my face, and I quickly tap out a reply.
May 8
7:58 p.m.
CONGRATULATIONS, STELLINA!
I’m confident that you will rock your interview and get the job! When is it? I bet they hire you on the spot!
Let me know as soon as they send you the official word, but baby, there’s no doubt you’re meant to do big, meaningful things. I’m proud of you, Allegra. And even happier that you shared this news with me first. I’m fucking gloating about it.
Are you excited for graduation?
You made my week!
Love,
Derek
The rest of the week passes quickly. Sam wants to get the track finalized as soon as possible. I reach out to Claire Merrick to do some design work for the cover. I spend my mornings writing, my afternoons working, and a few evenings hanging with Dre at the group home.
My time there is met with warm hugs, peals of laughter, and the bright eyes of my best pupil, Sarah.
Sitting with her, creating music, transports me to my childhood.
To sitting in my music teacher’s classroom, the subtle scent of glue and chalk, and fiddling with the strings of the guitar he gave me.
Hanging with Sarah and seeing her progress motivates me to keep working on my lyrics for the upcoming album.
I’m adding the finishing touches to a new verse when my phone rings.
As soon as I note Levi’s name on the screen, I drop my pen and close my notebook. Now that we exchanged a heart-to-heart, and he understands my true intentions toward Allegra, things shifted back into place. We’re friends again in that easy and effortless way from before.
“What’s good?” I answer.
“Derek,” Levi rushes to say my name.
My fingers flex on my phone. A current of fear zaps through my system at the worry in his tone. “What’s wrong?”
“Fuck, man. You gotta come. You need to be here.”
“What’s going on?” I repeat, already standing. My eyes scan my room for my wallet and keys.
“It’s Allegra, man,” Levi’s voice cracks.
My blood runs cold, and I freeze. The back of my neck ices over and my lungs constrict as I try to pull in air. “What about Allegra?”
“Fuck,” he swears again.
Each second that passes causes my blood pressure to rise until I’m certain I’m going to explode. Panic races through my veins and my fingers tremble as I toss some underwear and T-shirts into a backpack.
“Levi!”
“She’s on her way to the hospital. Come now. I gotta go. I’ll text you the info.” He hangs up.
My stomach clenches and a wave of heat burns through my body before drenching it in ice-cold fear. “Fuck!” I roar.
What the hell happened?
Is she okay? What hospital?
What the fuck!
I swing my backpack over my shoulder and lift my phone to my ear. Barking out orders, I line up a private jet to take me to LA, ASAP. Then, I slide into the back seat of an Escalade and head to the private airport. The entire time, I chant meaningless prayers I’ve never believed in.
But fuck, do I want to have faith in them—in something—right now.