She's No Longer With The Band

One.

California, May 9th, 2023

Nate's Point of View:

I ran my finger over the A on my wrist. The tattoo I had gotten was to remind myself of the vow I made to Claude all those years ago, to protect her. To protect his baby girl Aubrey.

A for Aubrey.

And look where all of that got me.

It's raining out. Pouring.

My jet black combat boots are tight around my feet, and ankles. They're the right size obviously, and that's how they're supposed to fit. Rather, that's how I like for them to fit. Not tight enough to the point where they're cutting off the circulation to my skin, but to the point where if I was able to get up, you know walk and shit, I could kick someone like Brady in the face without having to worry about my shoes being too loose and falling off in the process.

It's why I like for them to be tight.

They're also fairly new which is... whatever. Brendan bought them for me like a month ago. I don't know why he did that. Not to sound arrogant, but we all know that I have the funds to where I could've bought them myself. However, he told me that he was walking by himself and said he saw them and thought I would love them. They have studs down the backs of them. And he's right, I do love them.

Once he got me them, I immediately began to throw them and drag them across the concrete. Scott was screaming at me while I rolled my eyes in defiance. Thus resulting in the new expensive shoes being all scraped up. He didn't question it, he only yelled out of frustration. I don't know why though, he knows that it's something I always do with my shoes.

I'd hate for them to look brand spanking new.

Looking past the eerie glass, all I see is dark heavy depressing rain. It's down pouring and hitting the concrete and glass with a fat splat.

It never usually rains in LA, so this is good because I like the rain. Scratch that, I love the rain.

I can't help but watch the rain as it falls in slow motion. My eyes start at the top and scan a single droplet as it flies down and out of the sky, only to fulfill its ultimate purpose in life. Falling flat on its face.

Which is exactly what I've done. Fall flat on my face.

"Thank you, we'll be back for next week." Brendan replied ever so politely to whatever the man had been saying from where he was sitting next to me.

He was beaming from ear to ear, trying to put on the polite good guy attitude that he always puts out. Of course Brendan is polite, and yes, he is a good guy. Almost like the boy next door. He just has this good nature about him that makes you want to like him. Matter of fact, I don't know if I've ever met anyone that hasn't fallen in love with Brendan as a person.

See, I love him so much. I think that that's pretty obvious at this point, given our long history. And even though I struggle to say it out loud, it's the truth. However, due to everything that's going on, mixed with his happy go lucky facial expressions, all I want to do is fucking strangle him.

"Glad to hear it. Next week." The man smiled as I swallowed down the lump in my throat.

I went to shake the mans hand, and I tried to stand up before I realized I couldn't. Or maybe I could, but I just have the energy to.

He noticed my awkward misfortune and leaned down, lowering himself to my level as I shook his hand tightly. His handshake was firm, and solid. He was trying to hold eye contact with me, but looking up at someone like him is just not what I'm going to do. I firmly shook his hand back, gave him a quick glance so that I'd only have to see his brown eyes for a solid second, and then removed my hand from his clutch.