19. chapter nineteen
chapter nineteen
she writes my songs for me
I ’ve only been back in the dorm for twenty minutes, and I’m alreadyitching to leave and head out to find Goldie and apologise for how I snapped.
She had every right to ask me whether she thought I’d taken whathe’d said too seriously, but she wasn’t there when the words slipped from his slimy mouth. She didn’t see the smirk spread across his face. And when she thought I’d taken it the wrong way… I lost it.
The second I got back into the dorm, startling Finn awake as Islammed the door, I flicked the kettle on, knowing full well that a milky tea would calm me down. Then I went straight for my guitars, plugged in the electric one, and got to writing. It took me all of ten minutes to have the skeleton and base chords for a song that, if Goldie so much as read the first line, she’d know it was about her.
Come to think of it, the last three songs I’d drafted seemed torevolve around a star girl who had made stopping off here while I cleared my head sound like a holiday to heaven.
“You’re really sticking with the electric guitar, huh?” the mound ofpillows on Finn’s bed mumbled from across the room. He’d been a baby about me waking him up and had somehow been existing under his sheets for the last twenty minutes.
I strum the strings of the cream guitar resting in my lap, the soundreverberating around the space. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll be done.”
His groan got louder as he emerged from the pile of sheets, but ashe went to place his feet on the ground and finally get out of bed at 11:00 AM, his face twisted, as he hissed between his teeth.
I looked over at him. “Still feeling the effects of last night?”
He peeks his eyes up to me. “Coach Burton warned me aboutthe right winger for the Panthers, but I didn’t think he meant that the guy was an unhinged psychopath who thinks a hockey stick is a… weapon.” He cringed through the words as he managed to stand up, the bruise that was now fully settled on his upper arm snatching both of our attentions.
He rolled his eyes at me. “That’s not even the worst one I’ve had.”
I lean forward slightly, tracing the swirls of blue and brown thatbloomed on his arm. “Are you sure you’ll survive mini-golf later?”
Something Jesse planned, actually. He said our group hierarchyneeded to be established, but Finn told me that he just likes it because all they play is eighties music.
Finn snickered under his breath. “Please, I could have both my armsin casts and I’d still kick both your asses at that shit.”
I pull my smile tight as he gets his bearings, before casting my eyesback down to the guitar resting in my lap and strumming a C chord, then an A, and then a—
“White skirt, angel eyes. Lips tremble cause' you think it's lies—"
I snatched the notepad from Finn’s hands and tossed it aside, aplayful grin on my face. He looked me up and down, shaking his head with a smirk. “You’re fucked.”
My brows pulled together. “How am I fucked?”
He nodded his chin at me. “Say her name without blushing.”
I locked eyes with him, my heart racing as I conjured up Goldie’simage—her laughter echoing in my mind, her smile like a sunbeam cutting through clouds. Just thinking about her was enough to make my cheeks feel red—
“See! Look at you. You’re blushing.” His finger flailed at my cheeks.
“Alright, dickhead,” I sat up straighter in the lumpy bed. “Thinkabout Rory.”
It barely took any time at all for a faint red hew to take over Finn’scheeks. He shook his head and flailed his hands. “Yeah, well, that’s not gonna happen, so leave it. Go back to writing songs about your girlfriend.”
Girlfriend.
The whirlwind of how she’d gone from a stranger to a friend to agirlfriend, a fake girlfriend, made me blink, if only to clear out the tangled timeline in my head.
I angle my head at him as he hobbles his way towards the bathroom,playing my fakest smile. “I’ve got no idea what you’re on about.”
His head falls back as a laugh erupts out of him. “C’mon. White skirtand angel eyes? You might as well write ‘this song is about Goldie Moore’ at the top of the page, just like the rest of them.”
My brows drew in. “How did you know—”
“You can’t hide jack shit in a room this small, Tristan. I didn’t evenmean to find them and they were just… there.” I think he saw the look on my face when he dropped his head, rising it a second later with the faintest hew of guilt across his red cheeks. “I won’t say anything, I promise.”
I nodded at him, as my hands idly fiddled with the guitar. “Cheers.”
As Finn headed into the bathroom, I turned my head out thewindow, following the dueling raindrops that slipped down the glass. I used to love the rain. It was the perfect weather to draw a songout of me. But now, all I feel when hear the melodic tapping of the raindrop against the window, or the pavement, is fear. Cold, dark fear.
In a heartbeat, I’m on my back in the middle of the road, a screamso painful tearing its way out of my body.
Just as my breaths begin to hitch and my fingers start to feel numbaround the pick in my hands, my jeans buzz, breaking the tension. I set the guitar aside and quickly fished my phone out of my pocket, my heart racing at the sight of my dad’s name flashing on the screen. Without a moment’s hesitation, I hit answer.
“Alright, Dad?” I asked, trying my best to disguise whatever panicwas radiating through me.
“Hey, mate.” Dad chirped. “How’s it all going?”
I paid no attention to his accent, or at least I tried not to. Evenhearing my own was enough to remind me of the place I didn’t want to be.“Fine.”
Static crackled in my ear before he muttered, “Just fine?”
I huffed. “Well, what else do you want me tosay?”
“Something better than ‘fine,’ Tristan.” His sigh sent a chill down myspine. “You can’t blame us for wanting to know how you are after… everything.”
Everything.
The word felt painfully small. It couldn’t begin to encompass theweight of that time in my life, the chaos that still lingered in the shadows.
A wave of memories crashed over me, each one sharp and raw,pulling me into a darker time. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block them out, but they surged forward—faces and moments and rain and screams flickering like a broken film reel. I took a deep breath, calming myself as the past wrapped around me like a wall of fog over Tower Bridge.
april, 2023
What sounded like roars from the crowd boomed in my ears, as Itried to keep my hands as steady as possible, not wanting to breathe too heavily and disrupt the lines I’d only just straightened. I shook my head, letting out a small grunt, before gunning down and snorting all three of them, arching my back when I’d finished to meet the dilated stares of my friends.
Friends. The word sounded foreign as it got lost in my head. Thiswas all I’d ever wanted. Granted, I hadn’t envisioned it unfolding quite like this—connections born in the shadows of chaos—but I didn’t care.
I wasn’t the loser kid anymore.
I reached out my hand to Roland, who I still labelled Frosted Tips inmy head, lazily handing him the rolled-up sheet music I’d torn from my notes earlier.
“Who’s it from?” He asked, tilting his chin at me, barely pausing foran answer before he leant down and cleared two lines in one clean breath.
“Harry,” I said, wiping my nose. “He’s back now so we don’t have togo to Bradley anymore.”
Dressed in a denim mini skirt and a black strapless top, Jem comesbounding over, hopping onto the speakers that we’d manifested around. “Good. He scares me. I think it’s the accent.”
I grunted a laugh. “I think it’s the drug empire but whatever.”
Quick as anything, she plucks the paper from Ro’s hand and steals aline. She flips her hair from her face as she leans back up, before gracing us with that bright, slightly giddy, smile . “You owed me anyway.”
“And you still owe me.” My lips twisted into a smirk. I was toopre-occupied with trying to remember my lyrics to ask myself whether I should stop looking at her like that after last week.
Typically, she wasn’t this perky. Only gets this way after herevening blunt and a couple of Molly’s. Come tomorrow morning; she’ll be moody and distant and everything we were used to seeing.
As I paced over to the black velvet curtain, weaving between theband and sidestepping the stars that flickered in and out of my vision, I found the opening and peered through, looking out onto the concert hall I was playing tonight.
Cade would absolutely kill me if he saw the state I was in, aftereverything he’d done to get these shows up and running. I didn’t even want to think about what my parents would do if they were backstage.
It was useless trying to spot them in the audience; where they saidthey wanted to watch the show, to get the ‘real’ experience. For one, there were way too many people. And two, the stars were doubling in my eyes, and my head was getting heavier by the second.
As though he could sense I was faltering, Andreas appeared by myside, stretching his arm across my shoulder and leaning down to my ear. “Push through it, T. Knock it out before it knocks you out.”
I shook my head, shaking away the white stars that were crowdingmy eyes. He was right. I always hit a wall like this. But after another line and a drink, I’ll be fine. I push through. Do what I’m told.
Before I could let the next wave of dizziness wash over me Istormed over to Ro and Jem, plucking the roll from her hand and stealing the last line, wiping up the residue on the speaker and sinking it into my mouth.
Darkness consumed me as I shut my eyes, drowning out thenoise, the unfamiliar faces and the crescendoing roars from the crowd that were getting louder. Chasing all the strength I had to make it feel like I wasn’t drowning.
I told myself to focus. Reminded myself that this was all I’d everwanted. Playing my music for a hall full of people was the dream. And now I’d got it, I just had to make sure I didn’t mess up.
But the tingles and the invisible claws creeping up my spine were myonly focus. The stars that looked like the night sky against my closed eyes weren’t exploding into the nothingness. Panic slicked my skin, coating my forehead in sweat. Consuming me with the type of fear I knew I wasn’t supposed to feel moments before I played for a crowd.
Andreas approached me again. Even though my eyes were closed, Iknew it was him. His presence could be felt by the dead; it was that intimidating.
“Just don’t think about it. You’ll be fine.”
It was all I could think about. How could it not be? This was all I’dever wanted and there was a high likelihood that I’d either forget my lyrics and embarrass myself or unconsciously perform the whole show and I wouldn’t remember a single part of it in the morning.
That was usually how my trips would go: overactive and confident orvacant and hazy. And now… part of me wondered why I’d even taken anything today, knowing that this would happen.
Panic gripped me tight, claws suddenly digging deeper until ittwisted into something darker—worry so sharp it stole my breath. My chest tightened as I slipped out of the backstage area, my legs moving before my mind could catch up, stumbling into a dim corridor that seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction. Each step felt unsteady, like the ground might give way beneath me.
My head dropped into my hands, fingers gripping my hair as if thatcould somehow stop the spiral in my mind. The walls felt like they were closing in, my pulse pounding in my ears. Was this right? Was I really doing the right thing? Or had I already gone too far, past the point where I could turn back? My thoughts tangled into knots, and my heart raced faster with each one, a sinking pit forming in my stomach.
I pressed my palms into my eyes, desperate to block it out—but thedoubt wouldn’t let go.
It went well, actually. The show.
Well… from what people told me in the days afterwards. Asexpected, I didn’t remember a single part of it. Not one second.
Which was probably why I sobbed after the New York show inSeptember. Why I tore through the backstage chaos and found a dark corner to cry into for a while.
It was a grateful cry. It was the first time I was playing for acrowd where I knew I’d keep the memories with me until death.
Having my parents there, in the crowd like they were in London,made all the difference too.
And I didn’t blame them for worrying, especially since I haven’tspoken to them since the day they left. Not one bit. If I had a child who’d gone what I’d gone through, taken what I’d taken for him to end up in the hospital for a week, I’m positive that I wouldn’t have let them leave my side again. But in some ways, I had to be grateful that my parents weren’t like that. They knew me, and knew that being on my own, the way I’d grown up, was what I knew.
What I needed to make the world quiet again.
My lungs inflated with the stale air that existed in the dorm. “I’mokay. I promise.”
Another sigh rattled the phone. “And everything’s still…”
He didn’t have to finish his question. “It’s still with me, only me.” Myvoice was quiet, well aware that Finn was only a few steps away in the bathroom. I let my head roll back and rest on the wall, as my eyes wandered carefully over to the window. “But to be honest, Dad, I don’t even think the people I’ve met would do anything if I were honest with them.” I sucked in a breath as my head crowded with blonde plaits and topaz eyes. “They’re decent.”
“Well, I’m 'appy to hear it, mate.” I could hear him pacing what Iknew was his study. “Just, be careful, regardless of how you think they’ll react. That naivety was what got you there in the first place.”
Naivety.
There was no better word to describe how I’d acted. And hearing itagain only reinforced in my mind that I’d never let it happen again.
Regardless of how you think they’ll react.
“I know,” I hummed, ditching the raindrops and letting my body layflat on top of my covers.
“But hey, that wasn’t the only reason I was calling.” His tone grewcheerier, which managed to tug a smile out of me.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, it’s about…” He paused, as did his pacing. “It’s about the…”
I sighed a laugh down the phone. “Jesus, Dad, don’t hold thybreath.”
“Watch it, dickhead.” He laughed, and I had to stop pretending thatI didn’t miss our daily banter, and barked a laugh right back at him.
“Fuck it,” he exclaimed. “The record label ‘ave looked at the chartsand they’re ‘appy with how the songs are performing, and I spoke to Cade last night, and he mentioned that there was talk about wanting more than just a couple of singles like they talked about.”
My head craned up. “Dad, what are you—”
“An album, Tristan. They see enough potential in you that they wantto make an album.”
I couldn’t breathe. “Are you taking the piss?”
“No, I wish I was, but… no. I’m dead serious.” He paused, and I satup on my elbow. “They want to get the title track and a few others recorded before a mini tour, sometime in May, and then announce the whole album at the last show.”
My heart was pounding, and this time I didn’t want it to slow down.
“Fuck me.” I ran a hand through my damp hair. “Where do they want the tour?”
His laugh was subtle, as though he couldn’t believe what he wasabout to say. “Well, apparently the tour manager for the Moody Sunday’s liked what he heard when you were out there, as well as how you acted off stage, too. Anyway, Cade mentioned that they had some sort of arrangement and… I don’t fucking know, I think I blacked out when he was talking to me.” Groaning, I heard him take a seat. “But he said the songs are performing better over there in the States than back here, and so they want a ten-state arena tour.”
My stare was burning a hole into the door of our dorm, and I’m sureit would set a light if I didn’t shift it. But for the life of me, with what Dad had just told me, I didn’t think I could.
“He said he’ll call you himself when all the details are finalised, andhopefully, by then, you’ll be… you know.”
Better.
I’d be better by then.
And being better meant not being a Liberty.
That was the end goal.
But as the thought passed through my mind, and the image of me nolonger walking to class and bumping into Goldie or seeing the people I was starting to consider friends every day… my heart seemed to sink.
Being at Liberty Grove felt like being wedged between the knot in the middleof a tug-of-war rope.
On one end, the dark corners I walked through every morning were calling myname, whispering what would happen if I drew too much attention to myself, or trusted the wrong person. There was the foggy haze of what my life would look like if the truth got out, if things crashed and burned right before my eyes before I’d even had a chance to work on myself.
But on the other end was the chorus of laughs from Finn, Jesse, andthe girls. And even though the weeks I’d been there had been constantly spent around them all, I could still see our loose ends tying together, in a way that made me feel hopeful.
Normal.
And right at the end of that rope was a flicker of sunlight, topazeyes, and a smile that felt like sitting under the sun, and the more I made out Goldie’s silhouette, the more I felt that tug towards her end of the rope get stronger.
“Tristan?”
I shook my head, trying to pull myself out of the fog. “Yeah, yeah…sorry. Just… trying to take it all in,” I replied, my voice tight, almost breathless.
Dad’s silence hung heavy before he cleared his throat. “I know,mate. It’s a lot.” His voice steadied. “And I don’t want to sound like a fuckin’ broken record, but with the rise in the charts and the buzz about the album… there’ll be more eyes on you, Trist. A lot more.”
I swallowed, feeling that familiar knot tighten in my gut.
“I’m ‘appy you’ve found yourself some mates, we both are,” hecontinued, softer for a second before the weight of his words came crashing back. “But you’ve got to keep your head straight. Remember what’s at stake here. The end goal of all this.”
My dreams—they were what mattered.
But he was right, with the world watching, with my music touchingplaces even I hadn’t stepped foot, this wasn’t the time to lose sight of what I was protecting.
Fame wasn’t just a spotlight; it was a magnifying glass, and I wasstanding dead centre. I could almost hear the panic under his calm words, the unspoken fear that I might slip, that someone might dig too deep.
Every new friend, every moment I let my guard down, was a risk.And with the world watching, the cost of getting close to anyone felt like it could burn everything to the ground.
My heart sank further, my eyes soaking up the room. “Yeah,” Istuttered. “Yeah, I get it.”
“Alright then, mate. I’ll let you head off, and call me if you needanything.”
“I will. In a bit, Dad.”
The incessant beeping from the call ending had me tossing my phoneto the end of the bed, the ever-flowing current of thoughts that had turned unruly forcing my body back down on the bed.
I was in a hundred different minds. About everything.
I had the sense to slap myself, just to make sure that I hadn’t justdreamt that the label saw something in me, enough to offer to produce a whole fucking album. But I couldn’t stop myself from wondering whether I’d be ready to leave the life I’d slowly built up for myself here. A normal life, filled with real people and not an addictive substance in sight.
But I had to look at the bigger picture. What I wanted.
And that was always going to be music.
We’re two different people with different futures who belong ondifferent sides of the world.
What I’d said to Goldie the other day boomed in my head, remindingme of exactly where my heart lay.
It lay in the shadows, where everything about why I came herewould be safe. Keeping that safe would protect my future, my music, and everything I’d always known I’d wanted.
The bathroom doors creaky hinges grabbed my attention before itlifted to Finn, who cocked his brow. “You alright, dude? You’re sweating.”
Was I?
I swiped at my forehead to discover the slight sheen that hadmanifested since I’d spoken to my dad before wiping the excess on my jeans, pulling myself off the bed and grabbing my hoodie that I’d yanked off before.
“I’m good.” I rushed, before grabbing my guitar and kicking back onmy trainers. “I’m heading out for a while.”
“But I thought we were meeting Jess for—”
“Maybe another time.”
And before he could persuade me to stay, I opened thedoor and fled out into the hallway, making a beeline for the lift.
My eyes squeezed tight as I stepped inside and threw my head backagainst the metal, and again, and again, all the while convincing myself that the chant in my head was something I needed to worship to ensure my future, but every time it rang in my head, all I wanted to do was scream.
Stay in the shadows.
Stay in the shadows.
Stay in the fucking shadows.