Page 114 of Dirty Chorus

“He got me with it too, but Ryder found me in time and well...”

“What?”

“Ryder’s in jail right now.”

“Wait, what?” I ask.

“Yeah...” She bites her bottom lip. “He assaulted Brody that night. Brody was with Charlie in the bathroom. I dunno if she was... but I think Brody...”

The word is on the tip of Payton’s tongue. It doesn’t fit in my head. It doesn’t sound real. It should belong in someone else’s story, not someone I know. Not Charlie. Not the girl with the Sharpie. My throat closes up. I can’t breathe. My hands shake, my vision blurring and I can’t tell if it’s from rage or wanting to tear my own chest open, but it hurts too much to contain. I press my palms to my eyes and yep... there they are. The pathetic tears I don’t let surface. I still see the look in Charlie’s eyes when she had come into the greenroom. I could feel it on her skin. Something was so utterly wrong, and I knew it. Brody just forced himself onto her, right in front of me when I could’ve protected her. Kept her backstage. It’s all my damn fault for letting her run off like that.

“I’m sorry, maybe it’s too soon to talk about this.” Payton twirls her fingers into knots in her lap.

“I love her, I spent all summer with her. I knew about that stupid hazing game, and I came there just to protect her from something like this.”

“She was with you this summer?”

“Yeah.” My throat tightens. “She really stole my heart, I’ve never been this fucked over a chick.”

Payton looks down at her phone. “My ride is only five minutes away, you don’t have to stay with me. Really.”

I jiggle my truck keys in my pockets, and I know I am stalling and avoiding it. “Yeah,” I say and pull out those keys opening my truck door. “Thanks for coming by and talking with me.”

“I’ll see you around.” Payton smiles and I hop into my truck igniting the engine and pulling out.

I step into the hospital room, and for a second, I think Gramps is still asleep. The soft beep of the heart monitor is steady, slow but alive. Then his eyes open, unfocused at first, before they find me.

“There you are,” he murmurs, his shaking finger lifting up as he points at me.

I stand there, running a hand down my face, “Hey, Gramps,” I whisper, dropping into the chair beside his bed. “You’re awake?” I take his hand carefully, making sure this is real and not me dreaming. His skin is rough and scratchy, and I shudder in a breath. There’s no more time left. The clock is running out, and I really tried my best in taking care of him.

He gives me a faint smile. “Where have you been all day?” He smacks his chapped lips together.

“Just running your store, like usual.”

He exhales, the air rattling in his chest. “You look tired.”

“Yeah, well. It’s been a long day, and I can’t sleep.”

“You couldn’t sleep as a child either.” He squeezes my hands, and his dull eyes meet mine. “Always something keeping you awake.” I can see him fading more. He tells me I’m tired, he’s more tired than I am. “Did you get that record deal you’ve been wanting?”

“Yeah, we got offered the deal.”

“Good,” he nods with a small smile. “You’ve got something there. Don’t waste it, and don’t waste your time on booze and girls. Just play music for me.”

My heart constricts as if someone wrapped their fingers around it. “I’m sorry I never finished school.” I bite my bottom lip and turn my head away. I know too many ways in which I’ve disappointed him, and I wish that wasn’t the case.

“I can’t force you to do anything.” He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing slow. “I just know when tomorrow comes, I won't be here, and I don’t wantcha to struggle in life.”

“The band isn’t gonna let that happen.”

“You know...” he shifts in the bed, so he faces me. “I liked the girl you brought home. The one with the pretty big eyes. She seemed nice. Where is she?”

My chest aches, I can feel the tears filling my eyes back up, but I'm sucking it all back in. “Yeah,” I whisper. “She’s a sweet one.” But I’m not about to tell him she has gone missing, or that we split up. He deserves to think I’m going to be happy. Everyone wants you to have a happy ending. I want him to have only good thoughts when he goes.

“It’s going to be okay.” He hums softly. “You gotta stop running away.” I swallow hard, but it’s not easing the swelling in my throat starting to slowly choke me. “Life’s never gonna be easy.” I wish for just ten seconds it would be. “You’re gonna get hurt a lot.”

“I know...” My eyes dart to the fluorescent lights on the ceiling.