“There’s no reason we can’t be there for each other in a way we should’ve been years ago.”His words from that alley ring loudly in my head, bouncing around like a ping-pong ball. And the way he watched me as I performed that song is seared into my memory.
I’ve gone back and forth more times than I care to admit over the last week about whether or not I should reach out. My knee-jerk reaction isno. I wasn’t lying when I told him we weren’t the same people we used to be. So much of me has changed.
I had to change unless I wanted to wind up dead in some grave, the same way Lana was.
They say you have to know darkness before you can truly appreciate the light. I don’t know if this is true for everyone, but for me, it’s pretty spot on. The two years following her death, and every single thing that came with it, were some of the darkest of my life. There were days when I was so blinded by the fog, I wasn’t sure I could ever make it out alive.
Shit, there were days—months, actually—when I truly believed I didn’t want to.
I spent endless months in denial, feeling sorry for myself. I was angry at the world, angry at Lana, angry at myself. There were times when I couldn’t see anything past that blinding anger. That resentment. It was a dark pit, and it was bigger than I was. All-consuming. Bitter.
None of it was Josiah’s fault. Not a single bit. And my anger toward him isn’t fair, I know that. But he represents everything I left behind. Everything I’ve had to overcome.
Everything I could never have.
And I think I resent him for that, no matter how shitty that is.
I spent so many years wanting to be closer to him. Wanting to behis. Endless nights dreaming things were different. I selfishly wished I could trade my relationship with Lana for one with him, but I couldn’t give up the comfort she provided me—or the comfort she used to before the drugs.
Now, he’s here and wants to be friends, and I don’t fucking know how to deal with that. I’ve never been content beingjustJosiah’s friend, and I don’t think I can start now. I feel like Josiah and I were a tragic example of ‘right person, wrong time,’ but with everything that’s happened, there will probably never be a right time.
Still… I can’t stop thinking about his number in my pocket. About the way I canfeelit taunting me. Begging me to use it. The way my resolve is slipping more each day.
Finishing the song I’m currently recording, I run a hand through my hair as Fitz, my manager’s, voice comes through the speaker. “Alright, I think that’s good for today, Segan.”
I give him a thumbs up before reaching into my pocket to grab my phone. Unlocking it, I scroll through the notifications as I walk out of the soundproof room. It was just after sunrise by the time we got here this morning, so when I head outside, the brightness and the suffocating heat takes me by surprise.
Across the street from the studio is a convenience store. I’m thirsty as fuck, so I go over there, finding a blue Gatorade and grabbing a bag of chips for good measure. Alex drives me back to my house, and as soon as I get inside, I pull out my phone and that damn business card, sending him a text I swore to myself I’d never send.
Me: I hope you know how annoying you are.
Hitting send, I crack open the Gatorade, taking a big swig before diving into the bag of chips. It’s the first time I’ve eaten today, and I didn’t realize how hungry I was until this very moment. It doesn’t take long for my phone to vibrate with a new message that has my nerves on fire despite myself.
Josiah: Um… sorry? Who is this?
Me: It’s the guy you shoved your business card at in the alley outside of a bar last week.
Josiah: Do you think you can be a little more specific? That doesn’t really narrow it down.
That fucker.
Me: Fuck you
Josiah: Started to think you’d never reach out.
Me: Wasn’t going to.
Josiah: What made you change your mind?
Me: I’m heading to the gym later. Want to join me?
Josiah: Way to ignore my question, lol. But sure. Which gym?
I give him the address, unable to help wondering if this is a terrible fucking idea in the making.
* * *
Okay,so I probably could’ve mentioned to Josiah when giving him the address that the gym is technically at my house. Well, it’s notinmy house, but it’s on the property. Between my need to work out when I can’t sleep and Augustine’s obsession with weightlifting, it was a no-brainer to build a gym here.
