Chapter 25
chapter
twenty-five
“We were never meant to fit together. But my soul still reaches for her like we were.” – Cyrus
CYRUS
My fingers strum the strings. The rough metal is as comforting as a warm hug. Closing my eyes, I hum the bars that Ledger has written, but purposely slow them down. It feels like mourning if mourning had a voice. The crying notes prick my ears, and Haven’s face appears in my mind.
Her beautiful green eyes hold my heart and my hate in equal measure, though the hate is a thing of the past. And when she smiles shyly, the words just come.
Every day gets harder to face.
I’m so sorry that I am this way.
You give your all and do it with grace.
I give you scars that you can’t erase.
My voice breaks as the things that I put her through roll through me like a horror movie with no end. Sitting in the pain, I ride the guilt like a surfer on the waves, knowing that a big one is going to come and drag me under.
Regret is a weight that holds me in place.
The man inside is the one that I hate.
I failed you, it seems every day.
I can’t understand why you’re choosing to stay.
Tears burn down the back of my throat. The words are ripped from a place deeper than I’ve ever let myself go before.
I would change if I thought it’d matter.
Can’t hang a frame when the glass has been shattered.
I act like I’m fine when inside’s a disaster.
I pray for the wick of my life to burn faster.
Tilting my head back, I stare at nothing but still see her face, tears now running in streams down her cheeks. That pain is mine. Mine that I made, mine that I craved. Mine that I needed at a cost that was too great. I pour all that suffering out in the chorus.
Every day gets harder to face.
I’m so sorry that I am this way.
You give your all and do it with grace.
I give you scars that you can’t erase.
I strum the final notes, the pain in my chest clenching tight like a fist as I slowly open my eyes.
The guys are staring at me, pens and notepads in hand. No one moves. I blink, coming back to where we are.
“Fuck, man, that’s beautiful,” Eren says.
“I love the vibe of it slowed down, it’s haunting,” Ledger adds, and everyone nods.
“I got most of that down,” Ash pipes in.
“Looks like having Haven around is affecting your mojo,” Vex teases, but he’s not wrong.
“Don’t worry, I remember all the lyrics. Give me a minute. I need a break.”
My legs feel as heavy as my heart when I stand. Each stride is harder than the next, as if I’m trudging through mud and not a beautiful penthouse.
I grab a bottle of water on my way out and head aimlessly…away. It doesn’t matter where, as long as it is not near anyone else for a few minutes.
Wandering into one of the rooms, I walk over to the window and watch the cars far below. They’re so small that all I can really see are the lights moving like ants. I made the mistake of reading another journal entry earlier today, and I can’t get it out of my head.
Haven’s Journal Entry – Age 18
To Whoever The Fuck Is Listening
Why? That’s the only word I can muster. That single fucking word keeps swirling around, but no answer is coming. Patrick is dead.
Even as tears drip off my chin and onto this page, there is no relief from the suffocating pain that is as sharp as a blade right through my heart. Breathing is difficult, getting up is impossible, and just thinking about Patrick brings tears that don’t want to stop.
For years, we were so close that he felt like the brother I never had. We finished each other’s sentences. Laughed at the same stupid jokes. Watched the same movies. He taught me to skateboard, and together we wrote songs that made me smile.
We had drifted so far apart. It felt like I’d been on an ice floe. I could still see him standing on the shore, but he grew smaller with each passing minute.
This is all so unfair. He is here one minute and gone the next. Why? Why did you take Patrick from me, too?
Go ahead and call me selfish, but I want to yell at him. Why did you get behind the wheel of that car? Why were you driving so fast? I want to know why…just why.
My biggest fear is finding out that the answer is because of me. I did this. I caused him to wreck his car. He said he was going to fix things between us when I took off from his party. I’m filled with guilt that clouds the sadness to the point I can’t draw a breath.
My heart hurts so badly, and the only other person I can blame, besides myself, is Cyrus. When he moved here, everything changed. I lived in this perfect ecosystem, but when he arrived, he threw off the balance.
Maybe if he’d never come here, moved in, and stolen my best friend…then maybe things would be different. Maybe that night wouldn’t have happened. Maybe…maybe, maybe, maybe. That’s all I’ll ever have now. Tears, regrets, and what ifs that will never be answered.
Patrick, if you can read this. If you can see me. I’m angry at you for leaving me here on this fucking floating rock, but I love you with my whole heart. You’re still my best friend, and the only person I’ve ever trusted completely. I’m sorry.
I hope that wherever you are, you’re writing the best songs.
Miss you like my heart has stopped beating.
Until we meet again. XOXO 4Ever
— H
Hot tears run down my cheeks, and I quickly wipe them away. She blames me…I don’t blame her because I have the same thoughts.
Some aches fade with time, others linger in the dark recesses of your brain.
But Patrick’s death is as agonizing today as the day that I got the call.
Nothing can numb it or the loss I felt when Haven left.
Together, it was too much, and it was the beginning of the downward spiral that I took like a kid jumping on a park slide.
Now she’s avoiding me.
Fuck.
When I’m ready to face the band again, I walk into the hallway.
I can hear Eren and Ledger playing the piece I just sang.
They’ve slowed it down, and I smirk. Patrick would’ve loved this.
He loved hanging out with the guys, helping us write music.
He couldn’t sing his way out of a wet paper bag and couldn’t play an instrument to save his soul, but he had a poet’s heart. A true wordsmith.
When I reach the front door, I notice that it’s open a crack. Whoever grabbed the dinner delivery must not have shut it. I freeze when I get close enough to hear my mother’s voice in the hallway.
“She’s not equipped to handle this big of a job. We need someone with more experience,” my mother says.
Auguste is staying with us for the night and flying out first thing in the morning. My mother, on the other hand, is not even allowed to be in the hotel. She’s supposed to be on a plane back home already. I reach for the handle, but then I stop myself. I want to hear what they are saying first.
“I disagree. Haven needs time to settle into the job, and you can’t deny that sales are through the roof,” Auguste replies.
I can’t believe that after my last warning, my mother is at it again. She never learns. Irritation flares in my gut.
“This isn’t the time for emotional ties that will only hold us back.”
“Haven is my daughter. I’m certainly entitled to having emotional ties to the situation. Why don’t you tell me what is really upsetting you?”
“I’m not saying this to be cruel. You know that, despite our confrontations, I think of her as my daughter.”
I almost laugh out loud with that load of bullshit.
“But this job is beyond her, at least right now,” she says with mock concern.
“On what grounds?”
“My son has been in the hospital already. You know as well as I do that she caused his spiral before. I don’t want him falling into old patterns,” she says, and my hand curls into a fist.
I’m fucking twenty-four almost twenty-five. I’m not a child, and yet she is not only continuing to treat me like one. Regardless, blaming Haven is idiotic.
“Besides, the board has concerns,” she tacks on like it’s not the headline.
“You spoke to the board behind my back,” Auguste says, his voice angry.
I manage to open the door a few more inches, and I can just make them out in the hallway.
“No, of course not. But I have my ear to the ground, Auguste. I hear things. They were already worried that it would be seen as playing favorites. Cyrus being in the hospital is a terrible blow.”
Auguste doesn’t say anything for a few minutes.
Finally, he sighs.
“I’ll give her half of the tour and then revisit this conversation. I stand by my decision and feel that she is a good influence. Haven has an incredible work ethic and a very creative mind.”
“But Auguste….”
“No, that is my final decision,” he says.
The door bangs, making them jump as I step out into the hall. My mother’s face pales, and there is a certain satisfaction in knowing that I make her nervous. Well, my cutting her off makes her nervous.
“Cyrus, I’m sorry I’m here. I needed to speak to Auguste, and I wanted to say goodbye before I left.”
“You’re full of shit,” I say, crossing my arms and looking between them. “The answer is no.”
They share a confused glance.
“No to what,” Mom asks.
“No, you will not fire Haven. No, you won’t give her just half the tour. She’ll finish at least the tour before you move her up in the company, and it sure as hell won’t be for a lower position.”
I step closer, locking eyes with my mother.
“No, Haven is not the reason I spiraled years ago. She is the only reason I didn’t do it sooner. Ending up in the hospital now didn’t have anything to do with her. My actions are my own and no one else’s.”
I step closer and lower my voice.
“I’m tired of you trying to mess with Haven. I let you do it for years because I was a prick, but I won’t let you do it anymore. I warned you what would happen if you tried to interfere again, mother. This is the third time, and I’m done.”
“Cyrus, you can’t do this,” Mom whines.
Pulling out my phone, I send Brett a quick text, and a minute later, he emerges from the suite at the end of the hall.