long live | chris sturniolo

𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆 𝘀𝗶𝘅...𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥

july 2024, real life.

majorie winters had been the biggest supporter of both of her daughters. no matter the time of day or the length of the call, she would always answer. her greatest pride was being a mother, which was translated through her kind words and actions. she never raised her voice, she never doubted her kids. she loved them with all her being. 

peter winters was a hardworking and dedicated man. he worked long hours to provide for his family, he was a dedicated doctor. he made his career about serving others, which he hoped to pass on to his daughters. despite the draining work days, he always made sure to show up. he was at every game, recital, and practice. he always put his family first. he loved his wife and daughters.

it had been 3 days since the winters' parents had passed. the gapping hole in their daughters heart grew bigger and bigger. the conversations about their funeral service and what to do with their belongings were tough. but leo and chris stuck by their sides. kylie had postponed her tour, planning to return at the end of the month. she knew her parents would want her to continue, her career that they were so proud of.

the toronto shows were supposed to be special, her parents present. the first time seeing their daughter sell out an arena, her first headline. but now, kylie and her sister were picking out what casket to get each parent.

both girls had never experienced a loss like this, or pain like this. nothing warned them, nothing prepared them.  the service would be held a day,  making quick arrangements and calls to those who needed to be told.

those were very long 5 days. 

matt, nick, emma, and joey flew out to be by kylie and eli's side. the coyotes and taylor also made their way to canada in order to pay their respects.

how do you say goodbye? this would the formal goodbye, and it was stressing kylie out.she felt so much anger for the world, so much emotion. she sat in her childhood bedroom, with her friends downstairs.

she admired the guitar her parents got her for her sixteenth birthday, something she had asked for so long. the guitar that got her into songwriting, she owed her career to her parents. she owed everything to her parents. 

suddenly the 20 years she had been with her parents flashed in her mind, the countless memories, laughs, fights, trips. it was all replaying. 

her 6th birthday; kylie's first time in the us. her parents had taken the family to disneyland. it was the biggest trip they had ever gone on. it was something she would never forget, the laughter on the rides or the excited yells when meeting the characters.

her first heartbreak at 13, her mom held her when she cried. kylie's first, but not last, heartbreak was painful. even if it was young love, her mom made sure to be compassionate.

her first solo performance was at 16 with the guitar kylie now strummed in her childhood bedroom. she performed for a small crowd at a local coffee shop. her dad filmed it proudly, loudly cheering after each song. her parents were her first, and biggest, fans. 

the empty gap that she felt in her heart, at 20. this heartbreak her mom could not hold her through. 

kylie wrote for hours, unable to sleep. chris brought her food, that she was unable to eat. she stared at the ceiling as the sun began to peak between the blinds. this never ending loop needed to end.