“New York is their home. Owen and Ines chose to build their life here, just like the rest of us did. Why would she want to leave?” I huff, standing. “I need a moment.Sorry.”
“Hade?” Glenn calls as I storm out.
I don’t turn around. I don’t reply. My mood is in fucking shambles.
We don’t talkabout what caused my outburst, and no one brings up Ines again. For the next few hours, we focus on music. We even laugh a few times, reminiscing about the good old days.
Once the guys leave and I’m alone, I listen to the songs until I don’t hear music anymore, until I can’t make out a single word. My head is filled with noise, memories imprinted in my brain. Owen making me listen to “Need You Now,” the first track he wrote for Sabotage. The four of us on stage in London the first time we played it for our fans. Meeting Ines. His whispered confession that he thought she was the one. Partying after shows. His gloomy moods toward the end. The morning I found him. His funeral.
The kaleidoscope of images makes my chest burn. I drop to the floor and sit with my back against the wall, one hand pressed over my heart, willing the pain to subside.
It doesn’t.
And I don’t know if it ever will.
Instead of heading home, I go to the bar below the studio. The owner, a guy with a bushy mustache named Emmett, recognizes me right away. He keeps the drinks coming, just like he used to when Owen and I would come in after recording sessions.
Not a day goes by that I don’t miss my friend. Nothing is the same without him. The world is dull and colorless. Years ago, when I struggled to write music, I still found joy in playing. Losing myself in the guitar or the piano was the best medicine for my problems. Now? It feels like a fucking curse.
I down another drink. Alcohol does nothing to improve my mood, but it quiets the voices in my head.
“Been a while, Hade.”
At the sound of the familiar voice, my muscles lock up, and a wave of nausea rolls through me.
I come face-to-face with my former dealer, the man I bought from back when I partied nonstop. Like a ghost from my past, ready to kick me when I’m down, when I’m too tired to resist, Kyle saunters over.
He slides onto the stool beside me. “How are you?”
Anger bubbles up inside me, making my gut churn. “What do you want?”
“Just wanted to see how my old friend is doing.”
I scowl. “I’m not your friend.”
His responding chuckle makes the hair on the back of my neck stand.
“Everyone who’s ever bought from me is my friend. Sorry about Owen, by the way. He was very talented.”
I ball my fists, my vision blurring. “Thanks.”
Head tilted, Kyle watches me. “Anything I can help you with? Maybe something to lighten your mood? Grief can be consuming.”
As drunk and despondent as I am, an escape is tempting, but I shake my head. “I’m done with all that.”
“Whatever you want, mate.” He pats me on the shoulder and wanders away.
As I watch him leave, I realize how packed the bar is. I’ve been so lost in my own head, I didn’t notice how many people had filtered in. I shouldn’t be here. The last thing I need is the paps catching me stumbling out of here.
I pay my tab and exit carefully, trying not to trip over myself. Wyatt spots me right away and hops out of the car so he can help me into the back seat. He never asks questions, never lectures me. He just lets me be and takes me where I need to go.
When I step out of the elevator at my penthouse, the whole place is dark. Good. It’s after one, and I don’t want her to see me like this.
Drunk. Broken. Useless.
I head to my bedroom, my hand on the wall for balance as the world swims. I pause at Riley’s partially open door and peer in.
When I find her fast asleep, a wave of memories from last night hits me.
