Chasing Alys

by Morgana Bevan

  The stage door slammed against the wall. We both jumped a mile. Ryan charged towards us. His sweat-soaked skin shone in the yellow glow of the security lights. Matt stood in the doorway; his skin was a shade of red that didn’t look healthy.

  “Ryan! You need to get back up there,” he roared.

  Ryan ignored him, continuing to prowl towards us across the car park.

  A lump formed in my throat as I braced myself for a conversation I really didn’t want to have. Somehow, I needed to find the old Alys, who didn’t take shit and didn’t let a man hurt her. She’d formed a bubble around herself and fended off the worst of the pain like a pro.

  “What happened? Is your Dad okay?” He reached for me, and I stepped back.

  I was holding it together. Well, I wasn’t crying. Speaking might have been another issue, but at least I wasn’t a blubbering mess. Touching him would undo that.

  He held up his hands. His face pinched with worry, and I studied it, searching for a sign I’d missed. There was no sly quirk of his lips, no guilty glint in his eyes. He appeared to be the same man I’d promised to never leave, the man I’d told my secrets to and trusted not to hurt me.

  It made no sense.

  “What’s going on, Alys?” he asked, his voice shaking with uncertainty.

  “I told you everything.” My voice broke on the last word, and I swallowed hard, pushing the hurt down. “How could you do it?”

  “What are you talking about?” His hands clenched at his sides, but only confusion clouded his face.

  “How many have there been?”

  “Alys,” Ryan growled, dragging a hand down his face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Can this wait until the set is finished?”

  “Sure,” I bit out.

  He blew out a breath, the tension draining from his shoulders. He held out his hand, the edges of his lips twitching as if he’d solved it all.

  “Enjoy your show.”

  I turned away and walked towards the street, searching for a taxi. But I barely made it out of the car park before his hand wrapped around my wrist and spun me around.

  “I don’t have time for this shit. What the fuck is going on?”

  I blinked up at him, momentarily stunned. I caught Emily’s grimace in my peripheral. I’d never seen him angry. He was always so calm, smirking at everything. Rather than break me, his anger fuelled me.

  “You don’t have time for what exactly, Ryan? Me? The woman you promised not to hurt?” I hissed, tearing my hand from his.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” His face cleared as he tried to placate me. “But I still don’t know what’s happening here. Please clue me in.”

  “The girl, Ryan.”

  He frowned at me.

  “Have there been so many that you need a bloody line-up?”

  His confusion didn’t waver.

  “Raven hair. Leggy. Skimpy dress. Kissed a man she had no right to kiss?”

  “Do you mean the girl in Oslo? That’s what this is over?” His expression shifted, and again he relaxed. “That was nothing, Red. Come back inside and we’ll talk about it after the show.”

  I glared at Ryan, my pulse beating far too hard in my throat. How dare he brush aside something like this. It wasn’t inconsequential. He had cheated. It might have just been a kiss – if it was just a kiss – but it could just be the start. There was no way I’d stick around and let him pull the wool over my eyes. I’d been there, got the stamp and had no intention of ever returning.

  From the door, Matt shouted, “Ryan, they’re going ballistic in there. James’s singing isn’t going to entertain them for much longer.” He held a headset to his ear, hissing at some poor soul on the other end.

  Ryan glanced between us, his expression pained but stressed.

  “Come inside, Alys.” He reached for my arm again, and I twisted away.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you. I knew getting involved was a terrible idea, but I didn’t think you’d cheat on me quite so soon. Or that your bloody fans would send me incriminating pictures.” I backed away.

  The hurt rattled inside me, reminding me that I couldn’t do this forever. This was just a kiss; the future held much worse. “I thought I could handle it, but I can’t.”

  “Can’t handle what?” he asked, his tone pained.

  A taxi turned the corner and I held up my hand, blowing out a relieved sigh for its timing.

  I held up my phone, the picture of his kiss still filling the screen. His eyes widened.

  “I’m sorry, Ryan. I can’t.”

  I slid into the waiting taxi and shut the door. The other door opened, and Emily joined me, slamming it shut and reciting the hotel’s address to the driver.

  She reached for my hand. One squeeze and I broke.

  Sobs wracked my body. She opened her arms and I fell into her side, resting my head on her shoulder while I cried.

  “Let’s get you out of here.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The shrill noise of a phone somewhere in the house woke me the next day. I did not know what time it was. Lifting my head from the pillow to find out required too much effort.

  I stared out at my old bedroom with blurry eyes.

  How had I got home?

  Like a slap to the face, the night’s events came flooding back, and I braced myself for the surge of tears. But nothing came.

  Emily had whisked me into a taxi back to the hotel. She’d barked at the receptionist to have a car waiting to take us to the airport and guided me into the lift. After haphazardly throwing all of my make-up back into the still-unpacked suitcase, she’d raced me back out the door.

  We’d sat in the airport foyer until I had to go through security. When the first call came, we both turned our phones off and I sobbed into her shoulder while she tried to reassure me that it wasn’t my fault that men were pigs. It didn’t help.

  I’d boarded the plane in a daze. Once the tears had started, I couldn’t shut them off. The air hostesses into Bristol tried to calm me, but nothing worked except sleep. We landed and I zombie-walked my way through passport control and baggage claim with no clue how I was going to get home.

  But Emily’s dad was waiting for me in Arrivals. Of course, that just set me off all over again.

  He whisked me into his car, handed me a box of tissues and drove. We hadn’t even reached the motorway before the motion of the car lulled me to sleep.

  For the first time in years, I’d allowed myself to trust another person. I’d broken my own rules. It might not have been my fault, but I was a fool. I should have pushed back harder. I should have taken a last-minute job out of the country and escaped him. I should have done something, anything but open my heart to him.

  My face felt puffy, and I had a headache. Otherwise, I was numb inside. My mind was mercifully blank, but no matter how long I tried, I couldn’t go back to sleep.

  A faint knock sounded on my door. My dad opened it slowly, peeking around the edge at me.

  “Good afternoon, love. I thought you were going to sleep the day away.” He pushed the door open and picked up a tray from the floor.

  Placing it on the side table, he took a seat. My eyes fixed on the assortment of junk overflowing the tray. A pot of tea sat surrounded by chocolate, ice cream and cakes – everything Emily would have been feeding me had she been here.

  I choked on a sob, just barely stopping the wave of emotion from releasing the waterworks.

  “Oh, uh, here,” my father stammered, swiping a box of tissues from under the chocolate.

  “Thank you,” I murmured, taking a handful. I allowed the pillows to swallow me. It was safer here.

  “Emily had a full shop delivered this morning.” He frowned at the pile of sugary goodness. “That girl can be a tad scary at times.”

  My lips twitched. It was the best I could do.

  My father stared at me with sad eyes. “I won’t press you for details until you’re ready, but I just wanted you to know
that I’m here.” He squeezed my hand.

  I sat up, wrapping my arms around him. He held me tightly, smoothing his hand down my back as fresh tears assaulted me. I nearly lost him. If he’d been unconscious any longer, I might have never experienced one of his hugs again.

  My hold tightened, and the sobbing intensified. My face burned and my headache went into overdrive as my lungs struggled for air.

  “You need to breathe, love,” Dad cooed. “Everything will be alright.”

  “You – don’t – know – that.”

  “Yes, I do. You’re my strong-willed, independent little girl. Nothing has or ever will keep you down.” He smoothed his hand over my hair as he talked.

  “You really believe that?” I lifted my head to search his face.

  “Of course. I don’t think anyone could do your job and not burn out. I know you’ve had a time of it with men too, but with every hit, you just seem to pull yourself together and walk away.”

  “I don’t think I can this time.”

  Understanding shone in his eyes. “He’s different, isn’t he?”

  I nodded, tears yet again streaming down my face.

  “Then either one of you will fix it, or you’ll figure out how to dust yourself off. It might take a little longer this time, but I know you can do it.”

  All I could do was stare at my father in wonder. All these years and I’d had no idea he thought of me like that. A flicker of happiness came to life inside me, lighting up the black hole that had engulfed my heart.

  “Now, dry those eyes, drink your tea. We’re late for the film marathon Emily insisted we watch. I saw The Wedding Date in the list. I haven’t seen that film since you were twelve. You were obsessed with it. Do you remember?” He chuckled, brushing my tears away. How could I forget? I’d watched it almost weekly for six months.

  He handed me a cup of tea and two painkillers. I swallowed them swiftly. The low-grade thumping needed to stop.

  “I’ll be downstairs lining the films up. I’ll see you down there when you’re ready.” He stood, brushing down his linen trousers. “She called, by the way. Said to remind you to turn your phone on. She’s desperate to talk to you, it seems.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Dad.”

  With a nod, he left me sipping my tea. The silence was deafening and gave my thoughts far too much room to roam.

  I frowned, my gaze skittering around the room. Where was my phone?

  Shaking the blankets and pillows netted zero results. I was still wearing Emily’s skater dress, so it was not on my body. My gaze tracked around the room, but the device was nowhere obvious.

  Then a purple glint beneath a pile of chewy sweet packets caught my eye. Moving them aside, I unearthed my phone. Snagging it and a packet, I fell back against the pillows and considered it. Was talking to Emily worth the shitshow turning this thing on would release?

  I could always just go downstairs and call her from the landline. She hadn’t changed her number in years. I knew it off by heart.

  You just seem to pull yourself together and walk away.

  I’d never considered myself a coward. I always recognised the things that scared me and faced them head on. Well, except for heights. That one I’d failed to exorcise.

  But that was beside the point. Putting off reading the messages would only prolong the sadness and make it harder to put everything behind me.

  In theory.

  The rules were different now. Loving Liam was nothing like loving Ryan. Loving Ryan ran much deeper, and excavating those feelings wasn’t going to be an easy job – definitely not one I was prepared to face anytime soon.

  My brain stalled as the comparison registered.

  Loving Ryan?

  I couldn’t love him. It was too fast. We hadn’t known each other long enough. And in any case, I was more careful than that.

  I missed him, that was all. Missed the familiarity of his hugs, the random texts and his laughter echoing down the phone. Hell, I even missed his knowing smirks and his beautiful voice serenading me across a crowded room.

  But it was just a phase. I’d get over it. I always did.

  Before I could change my mind, I powered up the phone and set it aside. The moment it fully connected, it lit up, pinging incessantly with incoming texts, missed calls and voicemail messages.

  And seconds after the litany ended, Ryan’s name and sexy grin flashed across the screen, almost like he knew that my phone had turned on.

  My eyes filled up again just seeing his face. Pain bloomed in my chest, robbing me of breath. I stared at his smile, his beautiful blue eyes, frozen solid until the screen cleared.

  Before I could so much as relax, it started again. Only this time, Emily’s name and image filled my screen. This one I answered without hesitation.

  “Glad you’re finally awake. How are you?” she whispered as the video call connected. She sat in a barely lit box, or at least that’s how it looked. Engine noises vibrated in the background.

  “Why are you whispering? Where are you?”

  “In the tour bus toilets. I’m trying to make sure Evans doesn’t hear me.” She stared at me with sad eyes, her mouth downturned. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t come with you.”

  “It’s okay. Honestly, you’d be here if you could. Thank you for sending your dad. I didn’t even think about getting home. And the father duty orders will definitely be appreciated once I work my way through this huge tray of goodies.” I tried to inject some lightness into my voice, but it didn’t carry right. Fake reeked from every single word.

  “You don’t need to thank me. It’s what we do. How are you?”

  I grimaced. “Next question?”

  “Fair enough.” She sighed. “Look, things are a bit strange here.”

  “Strange how?”

  “Ryan’s a bit unhinged. Matt’s barely got a grip on him. The only thing keeping him on the tour is the repercussions from the label if he walks. I don’t know how long you’ve got, but maybe you should talk to him?”

  I tensed. “I-I can’t. Em, the fact I’m talking to you and not a blubbering mess right now is a miracle. I won’t be able to hold it together with him.” I’d had anger to fuel me last night. Now, I had nothing but my doubts and a hole in my heart.

  “You don’t need to hold it together.”

  “Yes, I do. He lied to me. He promised he’d never hurt me, and instead, he broke me.” I shook my head. “I won’t allow him to see me cry. I can’t,” I said, my words wrapped in steel.

  Emily sighed, her expression torn between understanding and frustration. “Have you considered that it could have been staged from afar?” she asked, chewing on her lip. “The fact they tagged you in it… well, that screams premeditated to me.”

  Ryan’s grinning face when I ousted the university student in Cardiff filled my vision. He’d been amused, but there hadn’t been a hint of interest in his eyes. I searched my mind for the signs, but I couldn’t recall any other moments of doubt. He’d been so focused on getting me to trust him. It just didn’t make any sense.

  But did it have to?

  The band was only just taking off. Soon they’d garner more attention, not less. That meant more women throwing themselves at him, even if it wasn’t wildly known that he was taken. He’d be on the road for large chunks of the year, and I’d have to work. Even if the band moved to Cardiff, I still wouldn’t see him for months on end. That would be plenty of time for something to change and I’d be none the wiser.

  Things were going to get worse, not better. Just like I’d always known they would.

  If someone would do this now, tagging me in the evidence, what the hell would his fans do when they really hit the big time? That kind of vindictiveness didn’t just go away. It bred.

  I shook my head, swallowing hard against the apprehension clawing at my throat.

  “I understand why you’re scared, Alys,” Emily said, her earnest gaze burrowing into me. “But – and I’m saying this because I love you – don’t
shut him out because something that may or may not happen in the future scares you. He can’t make amends for something he hasn’t done.”

  “I’m not asking him to make amends.”

  She laughed. “You don’t need to ask him. The man spent two weeks chasing you and then bribed me to bring you to him. He’s going to do whatever it takes to make this right, and if you think otherwise, you’re an idiot.”

  “Geez. Thanks.”

  “I guarantee you that if you don’t take at least one of his calls, he will show up on your doorstep the moment the tour breaks.”

  He couldn’t come here. One look in his sad eyes and I’d give into him instantly. I needed to protect my heart. Get back to the functioning, emotionally stable human I was before him. I couldn’t do that if he was in my face.

  Emily smirked, knowing she’d won her argument.

  A loud bang sounded on her end. I jumped. She squeaked.

  “Are you alright?”

  “Yes. Some asshole is trying to get my attention.”

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  “What?” she shrieked. I winced as the pain pierced my eardrum.

  A muffled voice sounded.

  “I swear, Evans, if you don’t learn some boundaries, I’m going to shave your head while you sleep,” my wonderful best friend threatened, her eyes fixed above the camera. Listening to his response, she grinned before her eyes snapped back to me. “I better go. He just threatened to remove the door permanently. Travelling on a bus full of men, I’m not risking it.”

  “Ryan threatened that?” I asked, unable to conceal my shock.

  “Yes. I told you… he’s lost it!”

  She hung up, and I fell back into the pillows, so soft and safe. If only I could hide here for the rest of my life. Build a pillow fort and never experience heartbreak again.

  After ten hours of chick flicks and an endless supply of goodies, my eyes started to droop. A sugar coma may have been the best idea Emily had ever had. The credits rolled and the TV went black.

  “Might be time for bed, love,” my father said from his reclined position on the other sofa.