She took a tentative step forward, unsure. Slowly, she made her way to where I was sitting. Part of me knew I should have gotten up and taken her outside to talk, but deep down I was still hurt, pissed and angry. I wasn't going to go out of my way to make her comfortable. Not after what I've been through lately.
"What are you doing here?" I asked when she finally reached me.
Pops made his way to the other side of the bar, attempting to look busy while eavesdropping.
"I showed up to the guesthouse, and it was empty. I knocked at Jake's, and he told me you were here and gave me directions. Are you drinking?" A look of disgust on her face.
"So what if I am. It's none of your concern anymore. You walked away, not me." I spat.
Her mouth opened, and an audible gasp came out. "I was hoping that we could talk, maybe clear a few things up. By the way, thanks for letting me know you were putting the apartment up for sale."
"That was my apartment before we were even together. We're not married, you're not on the deed, and I don't want it anymore."
She smoothed her tweed shirt and sleeveless silk shirt. If I had to take my guess, she was trying to gather her composure. She didn't exactly not like getting her way. "Can we step outside, please?"
It was rotten, but I was actually enjoying this. "Bryn, why are you really here? It's not just because of the fucking apartment, and we both know it. You obviously flew almost two-thousand miles for a reason, so just spit it out."
Then, the ugly part of her personality came out. "Why do you have to be so rude? It's always about you. You never take the time to consider my feelings!"
Next, was my turn to lose it. "I never consider your feelings? Excuse me, I've blindly spent the last three years under your thumb, letting you control all aspects of my life. I didn't realize how much I was sacrificing because you manipulated me that good. I spent the days following the wedding doing nothing except considering your fucking feelings. You know when you wouldn't answer my calls or texts, when I was the one on the emotional rollercoaster and needed you the most..." Yep, I wasn't finished yet. "How is it that you come right out and say you can't handle it and that you're done my fault? If there was a time that I needed you by my side, it was then, and you bailed. Now you're here to what, beg for me back? Sorry Bryn, it's not going to happen. I have clarity now."
Stunned silent, she stood there. Her mouth moved a few times, but nothing came out. It was hard not to feel at least slightly guilty, but there was truth to every bit of what I said. In the weeks since everything happened, she made no effort whatsoever to reach out to me. Instead, she chose hopping on a plane and traveling across the country to have a face to face.
As much as part of me would always love her for helping me get my life back on track, I now saw her for who she really was. I was a pawn in her game. She wanted her perfect life, her Volvo and two point five kids with the mansion on the hill. She wanted everything I was trying to get away from. Somehow, I blindly walked through the past three years doing everything she wanted out of love. In hindsight, I think it was because I felt like I owed her for getting me sober. That, and I thought she walked on water. I was also very wrong about most of it.
Though she probably wasn't going to forgive me, there was a possibility of us being friends down the road. For now, I couldn't stand the sight of her. I would have stuck with her if the situation were reversed. I stood and kissed her flushed cheek before watching her turn and walk out. This time her walking away was on my terms.
Letting go is the first step to happiness.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IN MY BLOOD
Two weeks had passed by in a blur, and not the fun alcohol induced kind. I had indulged in a few adult beverages but was still keeping in control. It wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be. Since LA, I had zero desire to give into the harder stuff. I intended on keeping it that way. Besides, being on tour and constantly having alcohol available made it hard not to have at least one occasionally.
Last night, we worked on putting the final touches on what was going to be our new album. As the ever so common marketing ploy, we released one song, Bridges Burning and put the album up for pre-sale. As of this morning, it was already climbing chart ranks. It was just one of the satisfactions of doing what you truly loved. It was in my blood.
Thankfully, the day had finally arrived. We now stood in Jake's driveway, surrounded by the autumn leaves. The crisp morning air was refreshing, and I was ready to get back to where my passion lived. Two tour buses sat fully stocked; vans were loaded with equipment, and we were ready to hit the road for the next month.
Luckily for Jake, Aubrey's dad owned private planes, and she could fly in for a few nights over the course of the tour. He purposely scheduled so that he and Blake would be able to fly home at least one overnight a week to be with the kids while we drove to the next venue. To say it was going to be a hectic tour would be a vast understatement, but we were as ready as we were going to be.
Since the episode at Pop's, I hadn't really heard from Bryn. We emailed a couple times back and forth, but it was mostly just finalizing the inevitable. She had a few things she wanted; I let her have them, that sort of thing. It was almost sad seeing how she turned into a person I didn't think she could be. She had turned into a cold bitch. Not marrying her seemed like the biggest favor I could have done myself.
On the upside, Kennedy and I continued to talk on a pretty regular basis. She was already growing the spa business, and my mom was thrilled to have her. Skylar was loving his new school and making lots of friends. Everything was as good as it was going to get for the time being, and that was good enough for me.
In the beginning, the band family rallied around me helping me get past the worst of it. Deep down even though I know I'm better off, the trauma of everything was still lingering. Most of my days were spent toying around with ideas for new songs, working on riffs with Blake, and building friendships with the GT guys.
Austin and I grew close. We ultimately ended up spending a lot of time together, since everyone else was pretty much in a relationship or having some type of fling. I found out what real crazy looked like, and it was in the form of his soon to be ex-wife, Carly. That bitch not only wore the crazy crown, she owned it and made Bryn look like a saint.
We sat at Pop's late after a long day of recording, I was sipping on my second beer of the night. Austin's phone rang for what had to be at least the tenth time in the span of an hour.
"It's Carly again," he sighed. "She just doesn't know when to give up."
"Women." Pop's said. It was as if there was no other explanation.
"She sounds like she's pretty desperate," I said shaking my head.
"Dude, you don't even know the half of it..." He took a sip of his beer. "Can I have a shot of JD?"
Pop's pulled a glass from under the bar and filled it a third of the way up. He seemed to sense something I didn't yet know.
"We met when I was nineteen; she was following GT for a while, and I dug her. She was smoking hot, Playboy material. At first, she was my dream girl. She was so supportive of anything to do with the band. She'd sell merch, help sell tickets, post flyers, that sort of thing. Then once, she got her claws into me everything changed. When we went to Vegas to record the Fine Again EP, she knew what an amazing opportunity it was. But it was very expensive, and we had to cover all the costs ourselves. Anyway, we didn't have enough money to bring her along, and she flipped. Like full on a hissy fit, meltdown." He took a long swig of Jack and paused as if he were remembering. "We were on the third day of recording when I called to check in on her. She wasn't answering her phone. I kept trying and trying. Finally, she answered, and her words were slurred, and I could barely make out what she was saying. Turns out she OD'd on some pain meds in an effort to get to come to Vegas for me to babysit her. Once she got there, she was happier than a clam. She wanted to go out every night, and her whole demeanor changed. I thought it was just a cry for help, so I stu
ck around. But, that wasn't the only thing. The last thing was right before we were getting ready to come here, I told her how much I was going to need to devote into GT now that we were signed and that it wouldn't be forever. She lost it all over again. Claimed I didn't love her, all sorts of crazy ass shit. She took off, and I couldn't find her. Two hours later, I used my phone to locate her. She was down by an old shipping yard. Drunk. As soon as she saw me, she stepped on the gas and slammed her Mustang head on into a carrier container. I had to pull her lifeless body out of the smoking car. That shit fucks with your head, man. I knew I had to walk away from her toxicness once and for all before I ended up succumbing to it."
After that night, I got it. Bryn was bad, slightly crazy, but not insane. There was some girl out there that would be my kind of crazy, and when I found her it would be love. Because isn't that what life is all about? Finding someone that drives you mad in all the right ways.
The part of the tour I was looking forward to most was sleeping. Lately, I was woken up on an almost nightly basis by Zach and Peyton going at it. Judging by last night, whatever they had going on was over because all I heard was her yelling at him how he used her and didn't give a shit about her. Yet, she was here to see him off.
"You don't give a fuck about me," Peyton cried. "I can't believe I was so stupid. I even dyed my hair for you!" She motioned to her now dark brown locks.
Zach sighed and pulled her into a hug. "I give a fuck. Actually, I give a lot of fucks. I’m a prostitute of feelings for you, babe. I just think that I need to focus solely on this tour. That's too hard to do if I'm worried about hurting you by being distant. It's for the best, especially for the time being. I already told you I was fucking sorry."
I felt bad for her and him. Being the girlfriend of an up and coming musician was not an easy feat. As sorry as I felt, I wasn't about to play Dr. Phil and intervene with my two cents. Austin came and stood next to me.
"How long do you give it before she comes to meet up with us?" He asked.
Laughing, "I'm giving it a week tops. I've heard them."
"Well we can be each other's wingmen on this tour. Nothing is holding us back or down from here on out!" Austin declared. "No more bowing for people that won't do the same."
He held out his fist, and I bumped it with mine.
This tour was a huge opportunity for them. It was nice to see that they were as appreciative as they were eager. They nailed every one of their songs they had been working on, and the venues were already mostly sold out. Joss was tagging along to be our merch girl, much to Derek's liking and Blake's dismay. It wasn't easy having your band-mate/ best-friend date your sister. Especially one with as tumultuous of a history as D had. Even more so, one that hooked up with the drummer of GT's girlfriend, Kelsey and the drummer himself, Tyler. Yeah, to say it was becoming a complicated clusterfuck of relationships between bands would be a vast understatement. Everyone dated within the circle, and it was beginning to get to the point that you needed Cliff Notes to figure out who belonged to who. The thought momentarily amused me.
I glanced over to see that Jake was kissing Aubrey hard, so I knew we would be off soon. Using my stealth moves, I got onto the bus and climbed into one of the top bunks. I already had my pillow and necessities loaded around me. This was one of the newer buses, so each bunk was equipped with its own TV and we had the satellite package. A huge step up from when we first started in our fifteen-passenger van.
The interior of the bus was a lot nicer too. Mostly black leather, the kitchen was filled with sleek, white cabinets and stainless steel appliances. The rear of the bus where the main bedroom would be was turned into a lounge where the bands could gather on our downtime. Jake went balls to the wall with 70" television, a PS4, Xbox One and a Wii, plus he incorporated a mock studio. We had six bunks and two bathrooms. Number one tour bus rule was, going number two unless of a true emergency was extremely off limits, especially for Derek. The dining area consisted of a six top table with black leather benches and a white quartz top.
The Battlescars boys were moving up in the world.
What happened next was a scene out of Home Alone. The one where they're on the airplane on their way to France and the mom is trying to figure out what's missing and all the sudden she screams "Kevin!" Everyone was apparently looking for me. Climbing from my comfortable blanket fort, I stepped down and showed my face.
"I've been here waiting for you guys to finish so we can go," I announced.
"On that note, time to hit the road!" Jake yelled.
Our driver would be Brett, Jake's normal security guard. Brett was pretty much part of the band by now. He's been with Jake for years now and is extremely good at his job. He doesn't put up with any shit. He's built like a brick shit house and drives this thing better than any of us does.
"All aboard," Brett yelled.
I climbed back into my blanket fort as he closed the curtain. Now was the perfect time to catch up on some much-needed sleep. Blake peeked in through the curtain and asked if I wanted to go play the new Call of Duty with the rest of them. I declined and put my pillow over my face. Our first stop would be in Kentucky. We would be playing Ollie's, a cool old venue near Louisville. We had played there a few times, and I was looking forward to seeing my friend, Stacie. She was one of the bartenders there, and we just clicked. She didn't hold any punches and just told it how it was. She and I had this easy friendship where we could go a long time without talking and pick up right where we left off. It would be nice to see the familiar faces, along with the new ones.
With that thought, I began to drift.
CHAPTER TWELVE
IT'S HARD TO SAY I DO, WHEN I DON'T
It was raining. Scratch that, it was fucking pouring buckets. We stood taking turns holding the door open for the poor roadies that were stuck carting in all the equipment. To make matters worse, a cold front had moved in. The heavy, black steel door felt like it weighed a ton, but every time we tried propping it open it would slam shut from the wind. When Austin came to relieve me, my fingers felt numb.
"Stacie's looking for you," he said.
"Thanks, man." He stood under the small awning trying his best not to get soaked as the rain kept coming down.
Making my way inside, I headed through the back of the venue towards the bar where Stacie stood smiling when she saw me. The mahogany bar expanded along the entire right side of the venue. Shelves were stocked with bottles of whiskey, vodka, rum, gin and everything in between. Plastic cups sat neatly stacked next to every tap. She tossed the rag she was using to wipe the counter down aside and lifted up the end to step out.
She pulled me into a strong hug. "Hey stranger!"
"Long time no see," I said looking down at her.
Her fiery red hair glowed in the light, and her blue eyes sparkled. I was a good head taller than her at my six-foot-two.
"Can I just say how excited I was to hear you guys were coming back to town! Come sit, you can tell me everything that's been going on."
We walked over to a couple of barstools at the end and took a seat. I honestly didn't feel like getting into the whole Bryn thing again. I knew I was going to have to explain at least a little of what went down, and why I wasn't wearing a wedding band. The last time we were here, I was in full wedding planning mode. Instead of getting into the whole Kennedy thing, I told her we just realized we were too different, and it wouldn't work out in the end. Stacie told me it was her loss and the female populations gain. I appreciated her not asking too many questions. She was good like that though, she never pried.
Putting her hand on my leg, she leaned closer to me. "Listen, the worse battle to have is between what you know and what you feel. Trust me, I've been there before. Where you know something is destined to fail in the crash and burn sense, but you feel like maybe you can salvage it, so you keep holding on for dear life. In the end, it always ends in a crash. In my opinion, you dodged a bullet."
"Part of me wishes I could go back to
the day I met her and walk the hell away, but she helped me get sober, and I'm grateful for that. But you're right, it's for the best. I'm just going to focus on me for a while. If and when something else comes around, it will happen when it's meant to."
"That's a good attitude. I'm proud of you. You've grown up so much since when I first met you. And to think, you were the tamest out of all them!" Her eyes rolled as she laughed. "My mind is still blown that Jake Parker is now married with a family. I'll never forget the first time you guys played here."
It transported me back to seven years ago, we were finally starting to gain enough momentum that the label set us up for our first headlining tour.
"Louisville, you rock my fucking socks! Goodnight!" Jake screamed.
The crowd was screaming for more as lights dimmed. The crowd started to dissipate slightly, as we made our way off the stage. It was a humid night in mid-July.
"Who knew singing songs would get us this fucking far," Jake howled.
He was still riding high on his adrenaline rush coming from energy of the audience. We all were. It had been a long two years getting to this point. We were on our way to better days and growing our fan base more every day. Sweat was pouring down my face, as I made my way into the bathroom to splash some water on it. Rounding the corner, I pushed the door open only to find three girls hiding in there giggling.
"Do you know where Jake is?" A small framed brunette asked, not leaving much to the imagination with her provocative attire.
Rolling my eyes, I motioned my thumb out the door. They scattered, and a blonde kissed my cheek as she practically skipped to the main area that housed the lounge and dressing rooms. It was becoming almost normal to find stragglers waiting for us after shows. There was some venue security, but these girls had a way of working their T&A to their advantage. None of the guys minded, but I was beginning to feel left wanting something with more substance than one-night stands. I also thought that there may have been something wrong with me.
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