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Another text pings, a word of caution from Liam.You know it’s not on you to fix him, Hail.
I scoff. That’s like being told to stop loving someone. It’s not a switch you can just fucking shut off automatically.
Love.
Is that what this has transformed into? I mean, I know for certain I’ve always sought out approval from others because I don’t have it from the ones meant to love me the most.
I bang on Liam’s door, my heart thundering painfully in my constricted chest. Slamming both fists against the surface, I holler for Z to open the door. Locks click from behind me. I turn to glare at the suited man that peeks his head out.
“Bro, can you not?” he asks, glaring right back.
“No!” I rage. “So fuck. Straight. Off.”
His brows shoot up, and he quickly slams his door shut, adding to the shitstorm of noise happening in the hall.Go ahead and call the cops. They’ve already got my name.
Unfortunately, the room Z’s in is booked under Liam’s name, so guest services won’t issue me another key. Why didn’t he deliver him to a room I have access to? Keep him in the lobby?Why, Liam? Why torture me like this?
Liam appears in the hall carrying three boxes of pizza and a sack with 2-liters of Coke. For the first time since I discovered the bruises he hid under his shirt in the fourth grade, back when he was too small to defend himself, I glimpse a flash of fear in his eyes.
He hands me the room key. Slamming the door wide open, I sweep into the room like a bloodhound on a moonlit trail. Dread presses my lungs out and out until my ribs ache. The pressure keeps me from drawing in a full breath.
No sign of Z anywhere. No indication that he was here. That he ever existed.
I whirl on Liam, fists clenched.
“He was here, I swear it,” Liam says, shaking his head in confusion. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Hail.”
"You would if you thought you were protecting me," I exclaim.
Malek peeks his head in the door Liam has propped open with his foot. “What’s with all the commotion?”
By this time, I’m seeing red, and the only outlet for this fury is the two people standing before me. I don’t even recognize them at this point.
“You should have fucking called me earlier. Why did it take you so long? You said something to him, didn’t you? I swear to god, if I find out you fired him, I’m fucking done. I don’t even want to do this shit anymore. I'm so fucking sick of this tour. This band. Everything."
I scream out every horrible emotion breaking against my heart like waves against an eroding cliffside.
“What is this about?” Malek’s voice is weak, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head.
“Might want to stay out of this one,” Liam replies calmly.
My shoulders drop heavy in their sockets. Completely deflated, I sink to the floor and hide my face in my hands.
“Hail.” Liam tosses the food and drinks on the table. He sits down behind me and pulls me against his chest. His arms wrapped around me become my anchor.
Tears spill from my eyes, splattering on his forearms covered in tattoos of geometric angels suffering. My angel is suffering right now, and I don’t know how to make it stop. I can’t shake the image of sorrow etched into his face as that piece of shit tore him apart in the lobby. I can’t forget the stench of whiskey on his breath. The disclosure of his brother’s death. The crunch of his splintered guitar under my boots.
“I don’t know what to do. I just want to be with him. How do I bring him back? How do I save him, Liam?”
“The only one that knows the answer to that is Z,” Liam murmurs, tightening his hold on me.
Malek sits down in front of me cross-legged and just rests his hands on my knees, further grounding me.
“Any idea where he could have run off to?” Malek asks.
I shake my head frantically. “None. Absolutely fucking none. He barely told me anything.”
“Just breathe, Hail,” Liam instructs. “Just breathe.”
