Broken Records | Tayley

Chapter 1: Leaving LA

Hayley's POV

The night I left the house in LA felt like stepping into a void. It wasn't just a house; it was the shell of dreams I had built, a life I had crafted with someone who was supposed to be my forever. But forever had cracked, crumbled, and now I was standing in the rubble, clutching the only thing that still made sense—Alf, my loyal little dog, who sensed every tremor in my soul.

I had asked for the divorce. I had been the one to end it, to finally cut the cord that had strangled me for years. But knowing I had made the right decision didn't make it hurt any less. The pain was a deep, gnawing ache that hollowed me out, leaving me an empty husk. The betrayal, the lies, the endless attempts to fix something so irreparably broken—they had all taken their toll.

"Come on, Alfie," I whispered, my voice cracking as I pulled my duffel bag over my shoulder. Alf looked up at me with those big, trusting eyes, and I felt a fresh wave of tears welling up. I knelt beside him, burying my face in his fur, letting his warmth ground me, even if just for a moment.

The house was eerily quiet as I made my way through it one last time. My footsteps echoed in the hollow spaces that used to be filled with laughter, music, and whispered promises. Every corner held a memory, a ghost of what once was. I paused in the living room, where the walls still echoed with the fights that had become all too frequent, the tension that had become the soundtrack of our lives.

It was time to go.

The flight to Tennessee was a blur of silent tears and anxious thoughts. The seatbelt light blinked off, and I realized I had been gripping the armrests so tightly my knuckles were white. Alf, curled up in his carrier at my feet, lifted his head as if sensing my turmoil. I reached down to stroke his head, finding a small comfort in the repetitive motion.

Home. The word had lost its meaning somewhere along the way. But as the plane touched down in Nashville, I knew I had to find it again, rebuild it from the ashes of everything I was leaving behind.

Taylor's POV

When I heard the news, my heart broke for her. Hayley had always been so strong, so determined to make things work no matter how much it hurt her. But even she had her breaking point, and I knew she had finally reached it.

I waited at the airport, my eyes scanning the crowd for her familiar face. I had always been her friend, her bandmate, the one she could rely on when things got tough. But this was different. This was her life falling apart, and I wasn't sure how to help her put it back together.

When I saw her, my breath caught in my throat. She looked so small, so fragile, with Alf in his carrier by her side. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and there was a hollowness in her expression that tore at my heart.

"Hayley," I called out, waving to catch her attention.

She looked up, and when our eyes met, I saw a flicker of something—relief, maybe. Or just the recognition that she wasn't alone.

"Taylor," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

I closed the distance between us in a few quick strides, pulling her into a tight hug. She melted into me, and I could feel the tension in her body, the weight of everything she was carrying.

"I've got you," I murmured, resting my chin on top of her head. "You're safe now."

For a moment, she just stood there, her face buried in my chest, breathing in deeply as if she could absorb some of my strength. I wished more than anything that I could take away her pain, make everything right again. But all I could do was hold her and let her know that she wasn't alone.

"Let's get you home," I said softly, pulling back to look at her.

She nodded, her eyes glassy but resolute. "Yeah. Let's go home."