Prologue
September 2017
The sound of thebourbon bottle shattering against the wall muffled the erratic heartbeats thumping in his ears and the pitter-patter of rain knocking on the window.
However, it didn’t drown the voices in his head, nor did it switch off the emotions threatening to break his rib cage.
Darkness.
That was all he could see, except for the glimmer of neon lights sneaking between the thick black curtains of his room, faintly shining upon the pieces of glass lying on the carpeted floor.
There was no hope. No saving for him.
As Kaj watched the last remnants of his drink dribble down the wall and drench the fabric below, he stepped backward, tripping when his wobbly feet got tangled. The room spun, but it didn’t hurt when he fell on his ass. He was so disoriented and numb, it was almost as if he didn’t belong in his body. Yet he could sensethe poison—the weight of his mistakes—rooting deep into his lungs. He couldn’t breathe.
Hunched over while sitting on the floor, he fisted his hair, ruffling and tugging on it, feet stomping with an overwhelming mix of rage and guilt as he screamed, “Fuuuck!”
He was fading to black, losing the battle against his demons. Surviving through another night felt pointless. Beginning and end, it was all the same.
Why? Why was this happening?
He was only twenty years old and had been granted a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity when Artificial Suicide asked him to join them as their new drummer. He should be euphoric—his dream was finally becoming a reality. But how could he be when the bad overrode the good? How could he when he was an alien to his own existence? When just two days ago he was doing the exact same thing to Noah that had ruined him for life?
Kaj punched the box spring behind him, letting out a howl of despair as tears rolled down his cheeks. Thinking hurt. Feeling hurt. Being alive hurt.
You’re mine, Kaj. Only mine.
Fuck… You're such a good boy.
It was Noah’s fault for being his anchor and his greatest source of pain. For giving him hope and then taking everything away when he needed him the most. For doubting him and calling him a liar. For having turned the page on their story like it was just a speck of dust in the universe.
You think he’d still want you if he knew the truth?
It was all Noah’s fault for being so annoyingly perfect. For being the smart and fun one, too. For indirectly reminding Kaj of the support system he’d never have. For being the person everyone wanted to become or be with.
Don’t pretend now you didn’t want it, too. You came so fast.
It was his fault for always being the center of attention without even trying, while Kaj was merely a lurker in his shadow. Of course, he didn’t want Noah to be a wallflower like him, but it had always beenthemagainst the world. It was supposed to be them, always and forever. But over the past few years, they’d become two strangers lost in a toxic spiral of heartbreak and sex.
And now, they were nothing.
Tossing his head back on the mattress, Kaj continued sobbing in outbursts of angry wails.Pathetic. He gripped the front of his T-shirt, as if that would ease the pressure on his chest and stop him from drowning.
One
Things can always getworse. Even after touching rock bottom, you can still plummet farther into the abyss, into that zone devoid of oxygen, where only perennial darkness remains.
That’s probably what people feel when they’re trapped in a situation they can’t escape. They wish they could rewind the past and stop the future. Do things differently. Sometimes those thoughts tarnish what’s right in front of them, overriding everything else.
Noah Sørensen was certain most people had never experienced true hell, though.
He, like any other person, had once dreamed big and failed. He’d made mistakes and stumbled. He’d been happy and sad. He’d loved and felt desire so visceral it hurt. He’d gotten his heart broken several times. But none of that was permanent, just a part of life. However, no emotion, good or bad, ever remotely resembled what he just learned.
It all had started seventeen years before, when he was an innocent eleven-year-old boy...
Grandma was getting older, both physically and mentally. But after she fell in the street during Christmas, Mom and Noah moved in to help her.
He was reluctant to move at first. Danish winters weren’t gentle, and coastal areas during that time of the year were just frozen sand and bitter wind. But he soon realized the change hadn’t been that bad.
