Oh, Calamity (Alex Gaskarth/ ATL fan-fic)

Therapy

Marina's POV:

I woke up and stumbled into the kitchen. Waking up had been such a chore. He wasn't beside me, and it was such a drastic change. It felt like every night I wasn't even sleeping in my own bed. It smelt different. There was no sound a a heartbeat or steady breathing. Only of window fans and consistent silence.

Exhaustion wiped over me. I hated this endless feeling. Hushed whispers stopped, and all three of the girls looked up to see me.

"What?" I asked.

"Uh, morning sunshine." Kianna awkwardly said.

"What were you guys talking about?" I asked.

They all looked at each other. Colby then pulled out a chair for me. "We gotta show you something, and you're not gonna like it."

I sat and crossed my arms. "It's him, isn't it?"

"Alex, yes." Emily said.

God, his name cut like a blade. "What did he do?"

Colby reluctantly held out her phone. On it was an instagram picture of him, and another girl. Both topless. Was that- oh, it was. It was Jenna. Their mouths were intertwined. I couldn't believe my eyes. We'd been apart for two days and he had already slept with another girl. How. Could. He.

I looked down at my hands, then closed them, fighting away tears. I used to hold his. I used to hold hands with that douchebag, scummy, piece of shit. I wanted to find him and rip his head off.

But more than anger, I felt pathetic. What had he accomplished in the last two days? Finding a rebound hookup. What had I accomplished? Killing myself. Oh wait, I failed at that. I was so lousy and undetermined. But this was a clear call; he wanted war. 

And war he shall get.

___________________________________________________

I bounced off the stage. The third day of this undying pain that it felt to be on stage for a half hour, singing songs I wrote for the one person I was trying to get off my mind. Our setlist was two old songs, the one we normally perform together, the one he helped me write, and Bittersweet Nineteen. I was in a living hell letting my head revolve around him constantly.

Not only that, but fans had pestered me non-stop. They always asked questions, and I had to repeat myself a million times: "It was mutual. It wasn't very nice. There was no violence and there was no cheating." He didn't deserve a lot, but his band deserved to not be bashed. Still, I knew it would happen anyway. It happened to me quite a bit. Those hustlers, they can be brutal. But the majority were confused and upset.

I wiped my face with a towel that Kenny handed me. "That was great." He said.

"It sucked." I replied, taking off my guitar and handing it to my tech. "Sometimes I feel like it'll always be this way."

"Well Rina, if you don't like the songs, then don't play them. Change it. You're in charge, you know." He explained.

"No, the fans are." I corrected. "But I wish it was that easy."

"You're gonna get through it." He put a hand on my shoulder. 

"Thanks." I walked away.

I quickly paced down the closed area of crowded people, ignoring all of them. Still, they stared. It felt like war. A true test of who were his friends, and who were mine. Suddenly, someone came running up. A bearded, intelligent man. A face I recognized as one of my best allies, Jason Aalon Butler.

"Hey, Rina!" He called, running up.

I stopped. He was a sight for sore eyes. "Hi Jason."

He stood in front of me. "Hey, um, Rina, you did awesome out there."