Page 12 of Fame & Chaos

That’s how Staked was born.

The name came from us trying to be clever little idiots. 12GAUGE-Slayed killed things, so naturally, we figured Staked fit perfectly because, apparently, we were all obsessed with vampire movies back then.

Honestly, the logic made perfect sense to us at thirteen.

But as my world kept expanding, Indi slowly started pulling away from me.

At first, it was subtle.

Missed phone calls.

Canceled plans.

Longer gaps between seeing each other.

I hated it.

The older we got, the more responsibility she carried at home while her parents spiraled further into addiction. She became fiercely independent out of necessity, and anytime I tried helping her, she’d shut me down instantly.

‘I don’t need saving, Caleb.’ I heard that sentence so many times that it became permanently burned into my brain.

But she did need help.

Anyone with eyes could see it.

She was exhausted all the time, emotionally withdrawn, and carrying the weight of two completely useless parents on her shoulders while pretending she was fine. And still, somehow, she remained the brightest thing in my life.

I loved her long before I fully understood what love was.

Probably more than I should have at that age.

But Indi had been there through every major moment of my life. She was the reason I started embracing music instead of resenting it. The reason I picked up a guitar every day. The reason I pushed myself harder and harder to improve.

Everything changed the moment she looked at me, as if playing music made me special.

I am who I am because of her.

By seventeen, Staked had become a huge part of my life, but Indi was slipping further and further away from me emotionally, and I could feel it happening no matter how hard I tried to stop it.

She was shutting down.

And deep down, I knew eventually something was going to break.

Because her parents were complete assholes who treated her like an inconvenience instead of a daughter, and every time I saw the look in her eyes after another disappointment from them, it made something vicious twist inside my chest. Sometimes I wondered if they resented her for existing at all.

Her mum had been sixteen when she got pregnant, and her dad only a year older. They lost their teenage freedom the second Indi was born, and I think part of them blamed her for that.

Which is bullshit.

Because Indi deserved better than every single one of them.

Then came the night that changed everything.

I was home in London studying for final exams when it happened.

Indi hadn’t replied to any of my messages for almost twenty-four hours, which felt wrong. Even when she was upset, she always answered eventually. I tried to tell myself she was buried in study because we were both drowning in exams at that point, but something in my gut kept twisting harder with every hour that passed.

Final year was chaos already.