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I put a finger up to stop him from talking. "I understand that now, but back then, it was hard to determine what was truth when you guys were always high as a kite. Then." I pause as I feel my stomach drop. "You sold it."
His eyes hold mine as the hurt I felt, still feel, rages through me. He takes a step forward, and I shove him in the chest. "The second you sold the rights to Pistol, I was done. You swore that song was for us. And there you were, signing it away." My chin wobbles at the memory, I try to hold it back, but the tears dam on my lashes.
“You swore it would only ever be for us, the world takes enough of us day in and day out. You said we’d play it on the day we got married. Play it for our kids when they got older. You fucking promised me, and then all of sudden, it’s all over the radio. Hitting number one on the billboard charts and for what? Because Larkin needed a love song. Fuck you,” I scream, the tears now a steady stream running down my cheeks. “I needed a love song.” My chest heaves from the weight I’ve been carrying for years.
“I know, and I’m fucking sorry.” He spits, “Larkin wanted it after he heard us in the studio that day. We were new Bristol, what was I supposed to say, no?”
“That’s exactly what you were supposed to say.”
“You know that wouldn’t have gone over well.” He scoffs. “He’s the head of the label, he gets what he wants.”
“By any means necessary, huh?” I ask, indignation lacing my tone. “Enjoy breaking your own heart every fucking night.” I growl before turning to the door.
Chapter 21 Rhyit
I watch her walk out the door, the lock clicking against the metal with finality. Larkin told Garrett that he wants the song ready to record by the time we’re done with this tour. I don’t want to sing it, I don’t want to hear it, I sure as fuck don’t want to finish it. I knew as soon as she saw what we were working on that she would blow up, especially with my attitude to the whole thing. She has every right, I betrayed her. We wrote that song together, put our blood sweat and tears into the ballad, and when Larkin asked for it, I said yes sir, would you like anything else? A kidney maybe? How about my heart because I have no use for it now?
Hurting her like that broke me too. I knew it would hurt her, and I did it anyway. Also I’m just enough of a piece of shit to tell the guys Bristol wanted out of the band, never giving them the reason, because the reason was me. Alex, up until the day he died, thought that Bristol just left us, didn’t want to do it anymore. I knew they would blame me for her departure so I took the selfish route and never said a damn thing. And isn’t karma a bitch, I’m sitting in the same damn predicament, except this time, it’s not Bristol’s heart I’ll break, it’s mine.
I sit on the bed for I don’t know how long, my mind replaying the day she left over and over. The hurt on her face when our song came on the radio. The track was rough, you can hear her sigh in the background as I sang it to her. It was never supposed to air, never supposed to be for anyone but us.
Past
Bristol sits at the stool behind her kit in sweats and a cut off T-shirt. Her toned stomach on display as she arranges the cymbals just how she likes them. I watch her because it feels like I’m always watching her. I love this woman, I’ve loved her for a long time, but we don’t say those words.
“Let’s play the new song.” I say, hoping she says yes, we’ve been perfecting the ballad for weeks, and I want to hear it all together. To be able to play it back. Her head pops up and excitement fills her face.
“Seriously?” She squeals, grabbing her sticks. Boston won’t be here for at least another half an hour and Alex the same. It’s the perfect time to play it, just the two of us.
“Yeah,” I smile, “the guys won’t be here for a bit, and we’ve got the sound techs already.” I motion to the smoke filled room on the other side of the glass. Two of the label’s sound guys sit in the room working on their emphysema.
“Okay.” She smiles. “Just us, right?” She asks.
“Yeah, babe, just us.” I reply, slinging the guitar over my shoulder. With her sticks in hand, she counts us in slowly, and I hold the headphones closer to my ear as I step up to the mic hanging from the ceiling. The red recording light shines bright against the darkened walls.
The days bleed into night.
I know I’ll be fine with you right by my side.
The city lights don’t hold a candle to your smile.
Don’t worry baby, I’ll be waiting at the end of the aisle.
She sighs lightly behind me, and I fight the urge to turn around to see her face. She loves this song as much as I do.
I hope you know, I hope you see,
my god, baby, what you do to me.
We can call it fate, we can call it love.
All I know is you were sent from up above.
I let my voice drag out as Bristol hits her drums, building up to the chorus. I play a quick riff on the guitar, letting the g chord twang as I step back up to the mic.
My heart is yours, my soul is too.
Everything I do, I do for you.
