Chapter Twenty-Nine #3
Mum and Dad’s voices clash, sharp and heated, and it twists something deep in my chest.
Ella wraps an arm around me, pulling me close as I press my hands over my ears, trying to drown it out.
But it doesn’t stop.
It never stops.
“Annie!” Dad’s voice cuts through everything. “Stop sitting there pretending this isn’t happening and face up to what you’ve done.”
I freeze.
The room falls silent.
Slowly, I lower my hands and look up at him, my vision blurred through tears. My bottom lip trembles, but I force the words out. “I’m sorry, Dad—”
“You’re sorry?” he cuts in, disbelief lacing every syllable. “That’s all I ever get from you, Annie. Goddamn apologies.” His gaze hardens.
“You were doing better. Dr. Ludwick was helping. And now this?” He gestures to the photographs.
“You’ve just handed the press everything they need to tear you apart…
and us with it.” My chest tightens. “You know what they’re saying about you?
” he presses. “Do you?” he yells, and I shake my head.
“Like father, like daughter,” Dad snaps.
“That’s what they’re saying. That you’re following in my footsteps and you’ll be in rehab before you’re twenty-one.
” His jaw tightens. “Is that what you want, Annie? Because you’re doing a damn good job heading that way.
” I stare down at my lap, nausea rolling through me.
“I mean it,” he continues, voice rising again.
“Who took these photos, huh? Who were you with that saw you like that… out of it, half-naked, and thought it was a great idea to capture the moment Staked’s career went up in fucking flames? ”
My stomach twists.
I’ve ruined everything.
Staked… the band… all of it.
Because of me.
I knew I was struggling, but I never thought I’d take everyone down with me. The thought makes my chest ache, like something is caving in from the inside.
And the worst part?
He doesn’t even know everything.
Doesn’t know about the guy.
About what really happened.
I barely remember his name.
The second guy I have had sex with… and it meant nothing.
God, I’m a mess.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Dad lets out a harsh scoff. “Sorry doesn’t cut it, Annie.
Not this time.” He gestures to the scattered photographs.
“I don’t even know how Rob’s going to take this.
Don’t be surprised if he drops Staked altogether.
And the label? They won’t want anything to do with a scandal like this.
” I nod, because I know he’s right. “The media are saying you’re following in my footsteps,” he goes on, his voice lowering, but no less intense.
“But I came from nothing. I had no one. You…” He shakes his head.
“I thought I’d done better by you. I thought I’d given you more than that.
” Guilt crashes over me. “I love you, Annie,” he adds, quieter now, but it hits harder than the yelling.
“But this? This is on all of us. Maybe I failed somewhere along the way.”
“Colt, stop,” Mum says gently, reaching for him.
He pulls his arm free, shaking his head.
“Don’t tell me to stop, Dee. We’re all a part of this.
” The tension in the room thickens, heavy and suffocating.
“Just… get out of my sight,” he says finally, grabbing the papers and tossing them into the air.
They scatter across the floor, drifting down like something broken beyond repair.
“I’ve seen enough of you all over the internet today. ”
I watch them fall, my chest tightening.
That’s me.
That’s what I’ve become.
“Go, Annie,” he snaps suddenly, his voice cutting through the silence. “Before I say something I might regret.”
I flinch, then slowly push myself to my feet. “I’m sorry, Dad,” I say again, my voice barely steady. “I never meant for this to happen.”
“You never do,” he replies, his tone still sharp. “That’s the problem. Now go to your room. Don’t come out until I tell you to.”
I glance at Ella. She’s watching me, quiet, unsure.
Mum gives me a small nod toward the stairs.
I turn and leave, the silence behind me heavier than the shouting was.
My breathing is uneven, my heart racing as I take the stairs two at a time. I need to get away. To be somewhere I can fall apart without an audience.
I reach my room and shove the door closed behind me, the sound echoing louder than I intend.
Not because I am angry at him.
Because I am furious with myself.
The tears come instantly, hard and unstoppable, as I collapse onto the bed. I clutch the pillow to my chest, holding onto it as if it might somehow keep me together.
I wish it were Aston.
I wish he were here, telling me this would be okay.
But it’s not going to be okay.
Dad’s angry. The damage is done. And Aston…
I don’t even want to imagine what he thinks of me now.
He’s the one person I want to talk to, and I don’t even have a phone to reach him.
A broken laugh escapes through the tears.
Of course.
I bury my face into the pillow, sobbing until my chest aches, until there’s nothing left but the hollow aftermath.
The world has seen me at my worst.
And there’s no taking that back.