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“What is it that scares you, Eddie?” Asher asks, a look of concern washing over his face. “Why can’t you ever go back to Los Angeles?”
It’s been ten years. I doubthe’s out there anymore, but the fear lingers on.
I won’t tell them. They don’t deserve the truth. Instead, I stand there with my mouth drawn into a firm line and remain silent, insistent on my decision as tension hangs in the air.
“Let it go, Asher, this is bullshit,” Callum finally says. “We’re kicking a dead horse here.”
My glare is so intense Jagger steps between us again to prevent another possible showdown between me and the arrogant asshole.
“Listen, Eden, we’ll leave like you asked,” he announces. “But we’ve got this second chance to reclaim our place in the music world, and even if it doesn’t work, we’ll still be doing what we love. You’ve always been that link in the band. It’s the reason why Oliver fired us. We couldn’t continue without you. But if your decision is final, at least we’ve said our peace to you and had our closure, and we can move on from this. There’s no pressure on you. We’ve got to put a sample track together for Oliver if you want to try out this one time and see how it feels working with us again. In the end, we'll understand if you still want to walk away after that. It’s up to you; the door will be open. You know where to find us, luv.”
He takes a final look at me before turning towards the door. I gaze at the other three, who nod in agreement and follow him out.
Haze is last and turns to me as he reaches the door.
“What happened to you was a terrible thing. It destroyed you, but it didn’t leave us unscathed either. We’ve all suffered to some degree. Getting the five of us to work together isn’t about reigniting some old spark between us but showing the world how our passion for music outweighs everything that holds us down. I hope one day you’ll findthat perseverance to fight the inner demon that stops you from being the musician you were always meant to be. Goodbye for now, Eden.”
Remaining stoic in my stance, I watch him shut the door. Through the large glass front window, I observe them pile into the dusty black SUV and drive off, leaving a large dirt cloud in their wake. My inner dream of playing music again is within that cloud.
“At least you can make peace with yourself,” Catalina says behind me.
I swirl around and bat my eyes at her, confused.
“Oh, come on, darling. As if I don’t know that you felt some guilt for fleeing like you did.”
“I didn’t,” Catalina smirks, knowing I’m lying.
“I don’t blame you, Eden; with those boys’ good looks and the way they acted like dogs in heat around you, you fell for their charms, and when you fled in fear for your life, you somehow wished you had the chance to explain your leaving to them.”
“I couldn’t trust them.”
“Exactly, and that’s why today is such an important chapter in your life. You no longer have to feel that tinge of guilt. Those arrogant pigs think they can come around sniffing, and you’ll run back. They want your talent, Eden. Because they alone were just a product of their time, Oliver Jones knew they were just momentum, and he brought you in to revive them. You were always the true talent of Sonic Revolution.”
She pushes a stray strand of hair from my face.
“I’ve always been so proud of you, darling. But the world doesn’t deserve you.”
Remaining silent and observant, I watch Catalina step away, knowing there’s some truth to what she says. The world doesn’t deserve my music, but the boys were immensely talented in their own right and relentless in pursuing fresh and new directions for our songs.
Sonic Revolution was already heading towards becoming one of the best-selling boy bands of all time. Oliver's reason for moving me from the Vixens to the Sonics was a business strategy, but I could never deny the strength, dynamic, and skills the boys brought to their music and performances.
I walk over to my favorite worn leather armchair and pick up my guitar. My fingers caress the strings as my mind goes back to when I first taught myself to play. I was so eager to learn. I had spent eons of hours watching free instructional videos and learning to play and readmusic. Slowly, my lyrics had sound, and my eagerness to find my place within the music world surpassed anything I ever wanted.
It was more than wanting to have a family, parents to love me, or even a permanent home. In fact, when I found out they were auditioning forTone Warsin Brooklyn fifteen years ago, I cut school early and stood in line for six hours with everyone else to get that thirty-second spot with the judges.
I sit down on the armchair and notice my journals are gone.
“Catalina?”
I hear her bustling inside, and she comes in, holding a mug of herbal tea and leaves it for me on the table next to my music sheets.
“Where are my journals?”
“I took them away. I caught Haze Evans flipping through them, probably looking for new material to steal.”
I huff a laugh, “Haze has enough talent. He doesn’t need to steal my stuff.”
“He’s been working as an online trainer for the last eight years. He’s probably out of touch.”
