1.2 The Chronicles of Us - Rewound & Retold

Chapter twelve

Dinner with Roy was distracting enough. We talked about music, mostly. It's a passion we share. Though, my taste obviously trumps his.

Once backstage, I head over to my bandmates. Axel and Joey are talking near the stage entrance. The former gives me a sly grin. "How was your date with Roy?"

Banter is easier than telling them why I needed the distraction. "Pretty decent. Had to bitch-slap him when he got a little handsy."

"Good to hear." Joey pats me on the back, laughing. "Are you ready for the show? We still have some time for rehearsal."

I nod. "Yeah, let's do that."

For a good hour, we rehearse some of the songs with elaborate chord progressions and tricky rhythm sections. I only sing-scream at half capacity to save my voice. It's all good. The stage area has great acoustics.

Time goes by swiftly and before I know it, the show has begun and an excited crowd is pushing each other around. Considering the start of this day, I'm actually surprised how well I'm playing. We're rocking through the set list without a single slip up, completely in sync with each other. I didn't even think about Ellie.

Fuck.

Now, I'm thinking about her. I try to hammer a power chord, but my index finger is on the wrong fret. Joey's drumming covers the off-sound. Thankfully, the last song is coming to an end.

I sing the closing lyrics with my eyes closed but when I open them, I see a busty redhead parade toward the bar. My lifted spirits plummet and my heart does that flippy thing.

The bartender smiles at her and she leans his way. Is he flirting with her? He's not bad-looking. Is she purposely all over that guy in my line of sight? To provoke me? Fuck with my head?

I can't fucking believe this. I've been on an emotional roller coaster all day and she just walks around with that blinding smile like everything is peachy-keen.

Well, it ain't. I'm angry and obsessive. A fact I don't like at all. She's has taken up too much space in my head. I don't give a shit if everybody else seems to think she's Mother Theresa incarnate. My sanity is on the line and that means she has to go.

Tonight.

Instead of thanking the crowd for coming to see us, I give a little speech. "I've spotted some people here who don't belong. If you're a boring bitch, go home and stop ruining our evening." I purposely didn't look at her, but I have to know she understands that I'm talking about her, so I meet her shocked gaze and say, "You know who you are."

The audience agrees by cheering me on and raising the Devil horns. For some reason, it doesn't feel as good as I hoped it would. They don't know her. How dare they share my opinion? Assholes.

Oh fuck.

I obviously forgot about the possibility of a confrontation with Ellie and I certainly didn't consider a public one. That's exactly what's about to happen, though.

She's coming for me, maneuvering through the crowd with big angry strides. Her fire-lit eyes are stuck on me while she hops on the stage. Shit. Her entire posture resembles a canon, ready to go off and blow me to smithereens.

I step back, but there's no escaping her fury. She stabs me in the chest with her finger. "You think you're real tough, don't you? Making insults at me from all the way up here. Well, I'm here now, say it to my face!"

She's not just annoyed, she's mad as hell. Her fists are balled like she's about to beat the living shit outta me. Honestly, I've never been this scared in my life. And I've had a gun to my head once. My lips seem to be glued together.

She tilts her head mockingly. "Swallowed your tongue?"

Yes.

"No, I just—"

"Don't bother." Her eyes narrow with animosity. "I don't care for the words that come from your mouth. I'll make your wish come true, though. I'm leaving. Not because you want me to; because I don't want to be around you anymore."

My heart sinks, but I don't want my heart to do anything at all. She needs to go back to crazy town. "Fine with me."

Snickers come from the crowd. Are they laughing at her or me? She hears it too. Her face shows only a second of defeat before determination takes over. Without any fucking warning, she turns away from me and flashes her tits to the audience. My jaw drops.

The actual fuck?

The whole thing is over before I got a decent peek and her shirt is down again. With a fake smile, she looks at me, her lips close to the mic. "How's that for a boring bitch?"

Her voice echoes through the silent room. That is, until everyone guy in the crowd starts cheering for her. Some girls as well.

Okay, it didn't exactly go as planned, but the outcome is the same. She's leaving and that's what I want. I don't wanna see her face or hear her voice ever again.

Never.

A black pit forms in my gut when she struts away. Why can't my body and brain just agree on the fact that she needs to go. It feels as if I'm in a constant state of conflict and confusion.

I turn to my mates for any direction on what to do. Axel shakes his head with disappointment. "You really did it this time."

Joey walks up to me and puts his hand on my shoulder, patting slowly. "If you don't apologize now, it might be too late."

I give my mind no time to think and shove my guitar in Elijah's hands. My feet move without question; my arms push away an innocent bystander. Driven by regret and angst, I run through the hall, toward the entrance.

Before I reach it, Santiago fists my shirt and works me against the wall. "What the fuck have you done? I just saw Ellie storm by like she was about to murder someone! In fact, she mumbled something about it."

I push him away and thankfully—for him—he doesn't put his hands on me again. "I don't know what I'm doing, okay."

He sighs like he's tired of my bullshit. "If your plan was for her to think that you hate her, you succeeded."

Was that my plan? I don't think it was but then again, I apparently know fuck all. "I don't hate her."

"No shit."

His mocking eye-roll would normally anger me, but all I manage to do is frown at my feet like an idiot. "Do you think she hates me?"

He laughs and slaps me on the back. "You are, by far, the dumbest motherfucker I've ever met."

Asshole.

I bite back the insult and make my way outside. My run turns into a slow jog and then a full stop once I get to the bus. The door is open. That must mean she's still inside, probably packing her bag.

The idea of her leaving suddenly makes me feel sick. I literally feel sick to my stomach. In fact, I've been feeling that way a lot lately. I can barely eat when I'm around her.

What am I getting myself into? Can I stop the landslide from swallowing me? Do I even want to?

No.

I take a breath and step inside the bus.

♬♬♬♬

A/N

Next stop ... the point of no return. 🤭😜

X Dionne