Page 33 of A Tragic Melody

“God,” I groan, pulling at the roots of my hair. “You just think you’re so fucking great, huh? This whole holier-than-thou attitude is so fucking annoying. You’re not better than me. You are just like me. Only difference is I know self-control, while all you know is putting a fucking needle in your arm. You are pathetic. Just like me. No matter how much distance you put between yourself and the drugs, you’re still an addict. Always will be.” I stand up. “So, you can go fuck yourself.”

Marching away feels like losing, but I can’t stare at his fucking face for another second. I hate him. He has no right offering me peace. I don’t want peace. I want to fucking ruin him.

I’m shaking as I slam the dressing room door shut behind me. People probably heard my outburst. It’s embarrassing, but I really don’t care right now. I hate everyone on this tour.

It still looks bad, though. If it gets back to Hendricks, he won’t like it. Stupid fucking Wyatt getting under my skin. I hate that he can do that. I hate how well he can read me like he knows me. But he doesn’t know me. I can’t let him know me or it will ruin me.

Ending him is the only option I have. I don’t know how to do it now that I have to be careful, but I will end his career before he knows what hit him.

If he wants to say the war is over, fine. I have no problem with this being a one-sided fight. I plan on winning still, even if that means not fighting fair.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I pissed off Simon. The guy doesn’t realize I just saved him a world of hurt, he just sees it as me cock-blocking him.

What I said was true—he does have a girlfriend, and she is pregnant. I wasn’t lying about that. Still, if it was anyone else, I might have looked away as he fucked around. It’s not my relationship to ruin. I don’t need to get involved.

However, it was Tuesday. I know that messing around with her is a death sentence. I’m just trying to keep my band from getting involved with her so we don’t get in any more trouble.

I’m walking back into my bus, having gotten a bit of food when we first got to the venue in North Carolina. When I step onto the bus, my whole band is gathered around the kitchenette, and my stomach drops. I know this is not going to be good.

“Wyatt,” Michael, the singer of the band, says. “We need to talk.”

“Okay.” I lean against the sink. “What about?”

My eyes dart around the group. Davey keeps his eyes down, Simon has a smug little look on his face, and Jerry, the other guitarist, has a blank look on his face. This is not going to end well.

“What’s going on with you?” Michael asks. “I know it’s been different this tour, but we are getting concerned.”

I want to laugh. They were never concerned when I was stumbling back to our van with any of the previous tours we’ve been on. Or when I was nodding off in the back seat.

“Concerned?” I challenge.

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea,” Davey says.

“What wasn’t a good idea?” I ask.

“Going on this tour. Maybe you aren’t ready,” Davey replies.

That is so hilarious I almost laugh. I begged to get off this tour, and they said we had to do it. I pushed that I wasn’t ready, and suddenly they agree? What bullshit.

“I’m doing fine. Haven’t slipped up, have no desire to get high. I go out there every show and play flawlessly. So why don’t we cut the bullshit and you guys can tell me what you really mean.”

“We think you should go home,” Simon says.

“Oh my God. Is this because of Tuesday? Go ahead and fuck her if you want, but it’s not going to end well for you. I’m sorry I got in the way.”

“Not just that,” Michael chimes in. “With the rumors going around now and just your attitude in general, we just need some time to decide if this is the right fit.”

“Oh fuck no.” I laugh. This is truly hilarious now. They wouldn’t have even gotten signed if it wasn’t for me. “You don’t get to kick me out of the band when I’m the only reason you guys got here. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be playing bars back home, not sold-out shows. If you kick me out, you are all as good as gone. Trust me.”

“We have a contract,” Simon says. “Signed in ink. They can’t drop us.”

I laugh again. “Did you read the contract? Did you go over it with a lawyer? Are you certain there isn’t any kind of loophole? Because I highly doubt they will keep you without me.”

“I know you think you’re hot shit, but come on, Wyatt. You have to see where we are coming from,” Davey says. “This isn’t working. This scene isn’t good for you, either.”

“Who’s going to replace me, huh? You got a show tonight, so who’s going to fill in for me?”