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"I could fuckin' kill your goddamn piece of shit brother, you know that?" Jim ranted as he stepped into the front door of Harlow's apartment.
He'd just come from a recording session for Slipknot's upcoming album and she wasn't surprised at all that he was less than thrilled. Though she hadn't really been a part of it at all, she'd heard from various members of the band that the preparation for this album, set to be titled 'All Hope is Gone', was off to a rocky start at best.
Though they'd decided to stay home in Iowa for the first time to make the album, somehow it was the hardest one yet. It seemed like most of the friendships within the band were strained and most of them were barely even talking.
Harlow hadn't seen Corey in weeks, something that never usually happened. He'd been holed up in his house, insisting he needed the alone time to write. She missed him, but it had opened the door for her and Jim to spend a lot more time together, which was nice.
Somehow, she'd continued to convince Jim that Corey didn't need to know about them. He'd finally stopped pressing the issue, seemingly just letting it be for the time being even though she was sure it was still bothering him.
"What happened, Peachy?" she asked him, reaching for him. She raised a hand up to his cheek and brushed a stray strand of his long hair off of his face. The longer hair was a more recent development and Harlow absolutely loved it. His eyes closed at her touch and he sighed heavily.
"He's a fucking prick. He won't talk to any of us, not that most of us are speaking in the first place. We're not even sure whether he's written any lyrics even though Mick and I have been consistently writing music for months. I swear to God this album genuinely isn't ever going to come together. It's just not," he ranted, raking a hand through his hair and stripping out of his jacket and shoes. He crossed the room to the couch and Harlow followed, plopping down beside him and arranging herself around him.
"I'm sure it'll work out. It always does," she soothed, and it was true. It definitely wasn't the first time the band had struggled at first with making an album. He shook his head.
"This is different. It's never been this hard, this distant. I was in the studio all day today and the only other member of the band I saw was Joey. At this point I'm not even sure Mick and I are actually both recording the same guitar parts. I wouldn't be surprised if he was recording completely different shit than me. It's not like it matters anyway since we don't know what kind of lyrics we're looking at and if they'll fit with the fucking songs anyway," Jim continued to rant as Harlow started kissing a trail down his jawline and to his neck. He leaned in to her, clearly trying to fight her attempts to calm him, but not quite able to ignore her apparently.
Before anything else could happen, there was a knock at her front door. They exchanged a look, but clearly both of them were clueless as to who it could be. Harlow stood, shrugging and walking that way. She looked through the peephole and froze in her tracks. Corey's blue eyes looked back at her, looking annoyed.
"It's..." she started turning to look at Jim.
"Harlow, let me in!" Corey yelled, finishing her explanation for her. Even from across the room, she could see Jim swallow hard, uncertainty washing over his face.
"What should I do?" he asked, and she shrugged. Some insane part of her brain wanted to tell him to hide like they were teenagers or something, but she didn't. Instead, she just shook her head.
"He probably already saw your car outside. I guess you get your wish of him finding out about us," she said, sighing as he knocked again, the sound making her jump. She turned back to the door and unlocked it, swinging it open.
Corey pushed past her into the apartment, immediately ranting about a lot of the same shit Jim had walked in ranting about. At first, he didn't even look up, didn't notice Jim clearly trying to look small on the couch. His gaze swung up to Harlow's, his eyes narrowing and his eyebrow raising.
"Why the fuck are you looking at me like that?" he asked her, aggressive already for some reason. "You look like I just caught you murdering someone."
Harlow's eyes flicked to Jim and Corey followed her gaze. Even with his head turned away from her, she could see his entire demeanor change. He'd already been annoyed and aggressive, but she could see his muscles tensing with slowly building rage.
"What the fuck is he doing here?" Corey asked, turning back to Harlow. She shrugged.
"We're kind of... hanging out," she muttered, knowing the way she'd undersold it was bound to hurt Jim's feelings.
"What the fuck do you mean you're 'hanging out'?" Corey demanded, and Harlow shrugged again.
"It's... we're, uh..." Harlow trailed off dumbly, annoyed and embarrassed that she was tripping over her words the way she was. Jim stood and crossed the room to them.
"It's nothing. Apparently it's absolutely fucking nothing," he chimed in, and Harlow was immediately speaking again and immediately sounding like an idiot again.
"We're... we've been... fuck!" she paused, taking a deep breath and shaking her head, trying to clear it of whatever nervous fog had filled it. "We've been sort of seeing each other for a little while," she said quietly, and Jim scoffed.
"Four years. We've been fucking for four goddamn years. It's nice to know that's all it was to you if you can't even fucking say it out loud. Jesus Christ, Harlow," Jim said angrily, shaking his head. Corey looked between them, dumbfounded. He was clearly still angry about the situation to begin with, but he also looked shocked at the anger that was radiating off of Jim.
"Jesus, it's not that I can't say it. I just... I haven't before, okay? I haven't said it and I know that's wrong and I'm sorry. I just... can't, okay? I can't have this conversation with the two of you. I can't have you hate each other over me because I know you-" she pointed at Corey accusingly "-are going to be a dick about it, and I know that you-" another point at Jim "-aren't going to understand why I'm being such an asshole about keeping it small and between us, and I just can't, okay? I care about both of you and I'm sorry, but I don't see how this conversation ends without one or more of us being fucked up over it and I don't want to do that," she rambled, shaking her head as tears rose to her eyes.
"I'll save you the trouble, okay? I'll save you the trouble of being honest with yourself and your fucking brother and I'll just take myself out of the equation. Whatever this thing between us was, it's over. There. Now we don't have to talk about it," Jim said, turning and grabbing his stuff and walking out the door.
Harlow wanted to chase him, but knew he was right to have left. She couldn't face her feelings for him, and it was totally fair that he didn't want to be a part of the whole thing anymore. As soon as he'd shut the door behind himself, Corey turned on her.
"What the fuck just happened?" he asked, and she shrugged. "That... all that wasn't because of me, was it?"
"No. It's... been building for a long time. It wasn't because of you. It was because I'm a fucking idiot and didn't realize what I had until the second it walked out the door," she told him, and he sighed heavily.
"I'm still pissed you didn't tell me," he informed her. "Four fuckin' years?!" he questioned, almost like he'd just registered that part. She rolled her eyes.
