Dreams Can Come True

97. Paul's sermon

"Elise," he began in a serious tone. "Do you even realize how much trouble you've caused us?" he continued. His words cut through the air like a sharp blade, and I felt a stone sink in my stomach at the gravity of the situation. I swallowed visibly, as it had never been my intention to get anyone into trouble, especially not the band I loved so much.
"We had to pay David a lot of hush money," Paul continued, his voice dripping with frustration and disappointment. My eyes widened in disbelief. "What?" I exclaimed, my voice filled with indignation. This couldn't be true! He was the bastard in this story, and now he was getting rewarded with a sum of money? I felt my hands clench into fists, my nails digging deep into my palms.
"Yes, Elise," Paul went on, his voice calm but resolute. "This must not come to light, that you have a history with drugs and seem to still be involved." My breath caught in my throat at his words. "That's not true!" I cried out immediately, my voice trembling with emotion. "David drugged me. David took me to his apartment against my will!" I continued to shout, my voice filled with desperation and anger.
I felt Bas grab my hand to calm me down, his touch a beacon of support amidst the tumultuous emotions racing through me. "The facts don't lie, Elise," Paul continued undisturbed, his voice a cool breeze of rationality. Bas squeezed my hand a little harder, a silent warning not to pursue the argument further.
"I am also aware of your messed-up relationship with David," Paul said, his words a slap in the face. I had to muster all the self-control I had to not explode, to not react to his accusations. "But," he went on, his tone now businesslike and resolute, "we've lost a lot of money, and with our first CD coming out in a few weeks, we can't afford such news."£
I felt the ground wobble beneath my feet at his words. "I want you to stay off drugs, and preferably as far away from David as possible," Paul said finally, his voice a command that brooked no argument. I nodded weakly, a mix of shame, regret, and determination in my heart. "I want nothing more," I mumbled, my voice a whisper of sincerity.
"Okay, that's it then," Paul said finally, his tone concluding. "Go practice quickly, because we haven't been able to do anything for a few days because of you." I saw Bas stand up and nod. "Will do, Paul," he said, his voice reassuring. He gave me a subtle signal that I should stand up too, and together we left the room, my head still reeling from the words exchanged.

"What the fuck, Bas!" I shouted at my best friend as soon as we stood outside Paul's office. My voice trembled with anger and frustration as I looked at Bas with a mix of disbelief and fury. My hands clenched into fists, my muscles tense with pent-up emotions. Bas, with his piercing gaze and calm demeanor, stood there like a rock, ready to absorb my emotional outburst. He grabbed my arms firmly, not to restrain me, but to calm me, to let me feel that he was there for me, no matter how turbulent the situation was.
"Listen," his voice sounded, laced with seriousness. His words pierced through my anger and forced me to stop and listen. "Only Tom, Bill, you, and I know what's really going on," he continued. "Only we know that you don't have a real drug history." His words hit me like a slap in the face, a sharp reminder of the confusing reality I was in. I couldn't defend myself, couldn't explain. I could only stay silent.
"Or do you want to tell Paul that you come from another world?" his voice was sharp, penetrating, like a warning of the consequences of my impending impulsive reactions. I felt a wave of realization wash over me. Bas was right. My story was complicated, my past a maze of secrets and lies. It wasn't an excuse, but rather a bitter reality I had to accept.
My eyes drifted to the ground, my hands tightening in his grip as I took a deep breath, trying to control the rising panic.
"You're right, Bas," I whispered, my voice softer now, filled with regret. "I shouldn't have lashed out at Paul. But I felt so personally attacked." My voice nearly broke on the last words, a soft echo of the inner struggle raging within me. Bas gently released my arms and pulled me into an embrace, his warmth and support a balm for my tormented soul.
"I understand, Elise," he whispered softly, his voice full of compassion. "I understand."