Chapter 3
Three
ATLAS
Singing to this crowd felt like I was bleeding out.
It was better than all the ugly crying I’d done—not out of missing Raleigh because any love I might have had for him had dried up years ago.
The crying was the loss of what should have been.
Of all the time I’d wasted on waiting for him to become a better person.
And maybe some of the tears were from the anger I held for myself for letting it go on as long as I did, knowing that Raleigh would always be the man he was. That nothing I did would ever change him.
I felt like a fool, but the moment I picked up my guitar, knowing that it was me—and just me—on that stage, there was a punch of relief so profound, I almost felt sick from it.
I had books and books of songs I’d written that I had never shown any of my bandmates because the words weren’t for them. They were about them. Their apathy and narcissism and the joy they took out of thinking they were better than everyone else was killing me. Like death by a thousand cuts.
How quickly they forgot the nights we spent freezing our asses off in unheated garages, scraping together what little rent money we could so we could afford to survive before fame happened.
Before someone paid attention and realized that, in spite of us being vaguely terrible people, we were talented.
I was talented.
Tonight felt like I was releasing all of that pain. The words spilled out like a broken dam, and I was able to let go, my throat raw from holding back my sobs. It felt good though, the healing kind of pain I’d needed for a while now.
And Alice’s bar was the perfect spot for it.
It was a crowd full of strangers, people who had no idea I was going to be there until I sat on the stage with my guitar in my lap, watching recognition bloom on most of their faces.
But the energy picked up, and as I sang, I noticed phones recording me.
I noticed people speaking frantically to people on the other end of the line.
There were probably livestreams after a few minutes.
And then there were people banging on the bar doors because someone had enough social media reach to tell the world I was here.
On stage, there were no regrets, but I also knew I had to end the set quickly. There were already demands to play songs from Tender Fracture’s latest album—something I wouldn’t do for any money in the world. But the mood of the crowd was starting to sour, and I wanted to bail before it got bad.
I was able to break free after my fifth song and duck down the hallway before anyone could follow.
Alice squirrelled me away in the storeroom, with Fred standing guard.
I’d known him long before the band had any fame or notoriety, and that was in the half smile he gave me as he looked down at my heaving chest.
“Call an Uber,” Alice said, throwing a parka over my back. “Have them get as close to the alley as they can, and Fred will get you out.”
I would probably be noticed at some point during my escape, but Alice was right.
This was the only way I’d be able to get out without resigning myself to sleeping in the bar until the crowds got bored and left.
I had a dummy account on the app, so I ordered the car, then watched the slow progression of the driver because the snow and ice had only gotten worse since I got to the bar.
It was nearly midnight, and I could feel the energy of the crowd ramping up. People were drinking, fighting, falling in love, falling apart…everything I’d ever sung about but had never quite had the luxury to feel for myself.
Fuck, I was tired. I was so, so tired. Something had to give.
“I see a car pulling up,” Fred called from behind the door. “Come with me. I’ll get you out.”
Pulling the hood up over me, I took his arm and bowed my head and let him lead me into the frigid air. It was biting and cruel, but the back door to the car was open, and the heater was blasting.
The driver said nothing as they pulled forward, the tires slipping on the ice for a moment before they found traction in the piles of salt.
“Holy fuck. It really is you,” the driver eventually breathed. It was a young man—barely twenty-one, I guessed by the roundness of his face. He was staring at me, and that was when I realized his eyes were red and glazed, and when he spoke, his words were slurred.
And from the smell wafting off him, it wasn’t from the cold.
Panic rushed through me, and I pulled my phone out, tapping on the app to see the driver’s progress. My heart sank down to the bottoms of my feet. The driver was still on his way. This person was not an Uber. He was a stranger.
Fuck, why didn’t I check first? This was fucking amateur hour for me, apparently.
I took a breath, then leaned forward. “I need to get out of the car.”
The guy laughed. “Relax, bruh. This’s fine. Iss fine.”
“You’re drunk.” I tried the door handle, but it was locked, and there wasn’t a button on the side to fix that.
He snorted. “I’m not even buzzed. I had, like, three shots max, and dude, I’ve been drinking sinnnncceee…I was a toddler.” He burst into laughter, then suddenly slammed on the gas, and the car lurched forward, throwing me into the back of his seat.
I pressed my fingers to my aching nose, checking for blood.
My rage was boiling up. After everything that had happened over the last week, I was not in the mood for this.
“Let me the fuck out, or I’m going to have you goddamn arrested.
You have no idea how badly I will destroy you.
” I tried the handle again, but the door didn’t budge.
“Bruhhhh. Chill.” Then he slammed on the gas once just as the road tipped down in a hill.
My heart leapt into my throat. “Hit the fucking brakes!”
“Bruh, I am!” But he wasn’t. He was still pushing on the gas, and combined with the ice and snow on the roads, we began careening down the hill.
The car turned sideways after a moment, and then it began to spin.
I had no idea how close the crowd was to us, but I said a little prayer that if we hit anything, it wouldn’t be them.
I couldn’t seem to make a sound. The moment was surreal as the car stopped spinning but kept sliding toward a building. A restaurant, I realized, because I could see the horrified faces of the people scrambling to get out of the way.
There was a sound—high-pitched and desperate—and it took me a moment to realize it was coming from me. I was finally screaming. And I felt, just for a moment, like I was outside of my body.
Then the tire hit something, and the car began to flip, everything going upside down.
For just a second, it felt like we were flying, and as I saw the ground rushing toward my window, I closed my eyes and braced myself for the pain.
But it never came. Before the car made impact, everything went dark.
“…with me. Okay? I’ve…in the…keep breathing.”
Breathing? Was I breathing? I became aware of the strangest juxtaposition of pain and numbness, like my body was directly split in half.
My fingers were curled in…sheets? It was some kind of warm, scratchy fabric.
I couldn’t seem to open my eyes and check, and either everything was missing from my hips down, or something was cutting off all my circulation.
I had legs, didn’t I? I’d started the night with legs. I tried to blink, but something was gumming up my eyes.
Where the fuck was I? Was it…god, was it cold or hot?
I couldn’t tell. I was shivering, but I also felt like the back of my neck was covered in sweat, and my face felt so fucking warm.
I tried to make a sound, but there was something in my mouth. I felt jostled from left to right, and then suddenly, the chaos of the world settled into total silence. Was this it? Was I dead? Asleep? Having some kind of night terror or sleep paralysis?
Fuck, I wanted to wake up.
And then came the sirens, somewhere off in the distance. They were faint, but something about them grounded me, and in that moment, I realized what had happened. I was in an ambulance. I’d been in a car crash, and now I was with EMTs.
The pain became very real for a second—searing hot, like all my nerves below the waist were on fire.
I tried to blink again, and my eyelids moved just a sliver. I could see a person—broad-shouldered and wearing a dark parka.
His hands were on me. They were—oh. They were so cold and calloused.
And dear god, so comforting.
“You’re doing amazing, Atlas.”
Atlas. He knew my name? How did he know my name?
“I see you breathing, you fucking champion. Fuck yeah. Sorry for the swearing, though I heard one of your songs earlier, and you dropped a lot of f-bombs, so I figured you wouldn’t mind.”
I wanted to laugh. I tried, but I couldn’t seem to exhale more than soft breath through my lungs. I pushed at whatever was in my mouth with my tongue, and suddenly, it was gone. I still couldn’t move the rest of me, though my fingers did twitch. I was a thousand pounds of lead weights.
“You with me?” A bright light was suddenly in my eyes, and I wanted to smack it away, but I couldn’t lift my arms. “Yeah, I see those pupils. Amazing. Can you squeeze my fingers?”
His cold hand was in mine, and I could feel it. I let my fingers twitch.
“Yeah, baby. Look at you go. You’re gonna be just fine. How about here? Can you kick me?”
Was he…oh. He must have been touching something near my feet, but I couldn’t feel it. Something in the back of my mind told me that was bad. Very, very bad. Terrible, in fact. But I didn’t know why.
I couldn’t remember why.
“Hey, babe? How we looking?”
“It’s gonna be at least forty-five minutes with all this shit. We can call Life Flight.”
“He’s stable for now.”