On the edge, p.39
On The Edge, page 39
We need more, but we have at least another week of the tour.
“We just need an extra twenty-four hours. Insurance will cover the costs, and we’ll issue an official statement.”
“Reis, can you imagine the backlash? You guys signed up for this tour and now you’re skipping shows? No, that’s unacceptable,” Bryn, the head of our label, says strongly. His words and tone leave no room for discussion. “The contract is very clear. There may only be a cancellation if there’s a band member’s illness. An illness they are unable to physically be on stage for.”
“This isn’t fucking fair!” I roar into the phone, snapping like a rubber band under tension. Rationally, I know I shouldn’t be yelling, but my emotions are frayed. I just need to get to her. I need to see her.
“I understand there’s something going on, Reis, I get it. But our hands are legally tied. I’m sorry.” Bryn actually sounds genuine and I run my hand through my hair.
“Yeah, thanks, Bryn. We’ll be in Cardiff tomorrow.”
“Good luck. If it makes you feel any better, sales are off the charts because of this tour. Not only that, but there’s a bunch of press that want to interview you guys after you get back. I’ll pass the information along to Louis.”
“Don’t. He’s been fired. Let go immediately. I don’t want him knowing, being informed, or knowing anything about us from here on out.”
The pause is awkward. Heavy. I know Bryn liked Louis, but I’m not above playing the ‘it’s him or us’ card.
“Alright, who is filling in?” Bryn asks stiffly.
“Paul. He’s worked with us for a while now, he worked directly with Louis and knows the ropes. More than that, we know we can trust him.”
“Understood,” Bryn says. “Okay, well, I’ll get Paul the interview information and I’ll talk with you after the tour.”
I agree, bidding goodbye and hanging up the phone before throwing my phone against the bed, watching it bounce and fall to the ground.
“Fuck!”
“I take it, it's not good news.” Adam walks in through the connecting doors between our rooms. He looks haggard, dark circles under his eyes. The spark that’s usually pushing us along on a tour is gone, his already-sharp jawline a little sharper with how he’s clenching his teeth in frustration.
“We can’t cancel Cardiff. We have to wait to get her until the tour's over,” I explain softly, running a hand down my face. I know they’re not going to be happy about it—fuck, I’m furious about it. But legally, we can’t.
“This is such bullshit,” he sneers.
“I know.”
“She’s in that shit town, thinking we abandoned her.”
“I know.”
He paces angrily in front of me. “She thinks we don’t want her anymore.”
My jaw clenches. “I know.”
“Reis, she thinks we don’t love her anymore.”
“I fucking know, okay!” I explode, my hands pulling at my hair. “What the hell do you want me to do, Adam? We can’t leave! If we leave, the label could drop us. We could lose everything, and while I don’t really give a shit unless she’s with us, she wouldn’t want that! You know that. She wouldn’t want us to throw a grenade on our lives.”
“I can’t… I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”
“We can’t. Not yet. I’m going to keep watching her socials, I want you and Markus to call her business partner. Let’s get everyone around her and get intel. Then…then, the moment we’re finished here, we go directly to her.”
Adam flops back on my bed dramatically. “I don’t fucking like this.”
“Neither do I.”
“I’ll make some calls.” Adam stands up and walks out as I sigh frustratedly.
It’s going to be a long fucking week.
FORTY-FOUR
THREE DAYS LATER…
“No, come on, I just need to know if she’s okay,” I plead with Hannah, her business partner over the phone.
“I don’t know how she is! I haven’t talked to her since your management said she was exclusively working with you and not to contact her anymore.”
Fucking Louis. I pinch the bridge of my nose and exhale.
“She still owns part of the company,” I reason with Hannah, but she just scoffs.
“I received documentation the day after that email from your management that relinquished her shares of The Social Buzz. It’s officially all mine. She was a hell of a coworker though. I just haven’t heard from her and when I tried emailing her, everything was returned.”
“What? She didn’t…” My words trail as it all clicks. “He really did this,” I whisper.
“What?” Hannah asks but I ignore her.
“Would you please just go to her apartment and check on her? We don’t know where she is and we’re worried.” I’m not above paying this woman if it means I have peace of mind that Melody’s okay.
Hannah sighs heavily on the other end, like I’m asking her to fly across the country for a favor versus checking in on a supposed friend.
“Fine,” Hannah relents. “I’ll go check on her. But if she’s not in her apartment, I’m not going to search for her.”
“Fine.” I grind my teeth and clench my jaw. What a fucking bitch. She hangs up the phone quickly and I shake my head.
This is the kind of person that Mel surrounded herself with when we were gone? Has she ever had anyone who was there for her no matter what?
My heart drops because I get it now. I understand why she believed Louis. My fingers tighten around the phone and I make a vow right here and now.
When we find her, she will always know how much I love her simply for her.
Our masks on, the warm-up music pumps up the crowd while the four of us stand on stage trying to muster up the energy to give a shit about this.
“We have to do something. Her business partner was a bust. Stalking her through social media is getting us nowhere. It’s like she’s disappeared,” I yell down from the scaffolding to Kai. The guy’s posture tells me he’s just as miserable as we all are; he’s sitting back against the speaker right by the walkup to my little stage like he does not give a damn if people see him.
“Maybe she did,” Kai says, his voice muffled by the mask.
“What?”
“All this has me thinking, maybe she is trying to tell us to leave her alone. Think about it, Adam,” Kai says earnestly, but I can hear how tired he is, as he stands up and turns to look at me. “Her phone number isn’t working, but only for us. She’s blocked us on her socials. She’s not answering any messages Reis has tried to send. We can’t get anyone to go check on her. Maybe… Maybe she doesn’t want us anymore.” His head drops down, and I can see it.
He thinks we should give up. Not because he wants to, but because he really thinks that it’s what she wants.
I scoff, shaking my head and standing up. I see the tech guy telling me to sit down, pointing at his watch, so I sit back down but yell at Kai.
“Look at me, Kai!” He turns back to me, the neon edges of his mask making the movement slightly sinister when I know that really, underneath he’s dying.
“We’re not giving up. So don’t even think that. We’ll honor her wishes the moment she speaks them, not any sooner on information that we don’t truly have. Got it?” The lights flash overhead and that’s my cue.
“Got it?!” I yell again. I need to hear him say it, because this isn’t over. Melody is ours and we aren’t giving her up.
“Yeah, bro. I got it.” Kai nods, pulling the guitar into position and waiting for my lead in. “Let’s go.”
“Thank you so much and goodnight!” Reis screams into the mic, his voice raspy and hoarse after this show. Back-to-back shows are fucking brutal, and usually we stress for nothing except the next show. Everything else is handled and done for us. But this tour? This tour, we actually had something outside of work that we cared about. And we found out the person who usually makes tours so easy is a backstabbing, backwater trash, fuck nugget that deserves to go get punched in the dick until it stops working properly.
We all wave to the crowd and walk off stage. The moment we’re out of the crowd’s line of sight, our smiles drop. Life feels like it’s been sucked out of me, like I’m bleeding all over and nothing will staunch it.
“You guys, that was a great show!” Paul praises kindly, holding the tablet that caused all this fuckery in his arm. Unfortunately, it’s still intact. Kai wanted to smash it to pieces, but Paul convinced us he needed it to run the tour. Apparently it’s got all our schedules, the lighting cues, the sound system controls, all the PA stuff on it. It’s a bit of a necessity.
I’d gladly buy a new one if I got to take a sledgehammer to the thing that caused me this much pain.
Because taking a sledgehammer to Louis' head would be prison time for sure, and I can’t win Melody back from prison.
“Thanks, Paul,” Kai tips his head up in recognition before walking towards the dressing room. Fuck, he’s deep in his feels.
“Do you need anything from us?” Reis asks, handing the microphone to the tech guy and turning to Paul.
“No, nothing. We’re set for tomorrow. I’ll pick you guys up from the hotel at nine am, then we’ll be off to Edinburgh. Last stop before the bookend with London.” he says everything so quickly, his eyebrows rising with intent because he knows exactly how much it means for us to get this tour done with. We need to get back to her. “Three days. Three days and you’ll be sitting on the plane to Oklahoma.”
“Thanks, Paul. We appreciate it.” Reis nods, patting Paul on the shoulder and walking off to head to the dressing room as well. I give him a tight-lipped nod and help Markus walk to the room. He’s still slightly swaying on his feet. He’s lucky he’s such a fucking badass guitarist because I don’t know how he gets on the stage every night this high.
“Three days?” Markus asks me, eyes focusing in and out as he looks at me like he’s realizing he can let go just a little.
“Yeah, man. Three days. You have to get your shit together. I know you’re hurting, we all are, but you can’t be doing this. Not if you want her back.”
“She doesn’t care. She had liquor, I have drugs. But since you so fucking rudely put your nose in my business, I’ll be honest.” Markus rolls his eyes. “When she was here… I didn’t need this shit. She made me feel so fucking good, I didn’t need to take anything to escape. Now she’s gone, and nothing works like it used to.”
My heart breaks deeper for him. I understand what he’s saying. Maybe not on this kind of a level, but fuck, I get why hes been hitting it harder lately.
“I just need her back. I want her back. Why’d she leave?” He starts groaning as we walk through the hallway.
“She didn’t want to. Remember? Paul said she didn’t want to.” I keep repeating that to myself. Holding onto the memory of Paul saying she was heartbroken. That she didn’t want to leave. That she didn’t choose this.
“Why didn’t she ask us?” he slurs and I swallow hard.
That’s the question, isn’t it? It’s just a little too close to home, like history repeating itself painfully.
“I don’t know, man. We did owe her one, you know.”
“We’re such fucking assholes. All of us. Imagine how she felt in high school.” Markus shakes his head sadly. “I want to go back in time and smack the shit out of myself for just walking away.”
“I know, I know,” I agree, partially because he’s coming down and serious conversations shouldn’t be had right now, but also because the way he’s talking is ripping my heart out.
I push open the door to our dressing room and Reis is standing, pacing with his phone in his hand nervously. Kai’s sitting there, watching him pace, with his hand over his mouth like he’s trying not to say anything.
“Did she message you?” I ask excitedly, before reasoning kicks in. Taking in their expressions, I realize they look like they’ve just stepped in shit and are nervous they’re going to get in trouble. “What is it?”
“I think… I think I’m going to call my mom,” Reis admits, holding up his phone.
Markus laughs at the worst fucking moment. “How would that bitch help us? She hates Melody, always has.”
I cringe at Markus' words, but he’s not wrong. Delivery, though? The delivery is very fucking wrong.
“I know that. But she’s the only person we have in Haven that we haven’t called to try and get eyes on Mel.”
“I don’t know, man.” I scratch the back of my head nervously.
“What do we have to lose?” Kai asks sadly. “If she’s about to give us a straight answer… I need to know. I need to know that Melody is in Haven. If she’s safe. I called our doorman and they haven’t seen her since we left. That means she never went back to our place.” Kai pulls at his short blonde hair. “I’ve been going crazy. Dreaming she’s all alone and out on the street. Cursing our names and hurting. I… I have to know she’s okay.” When Kai’s eyes meet mine, I can see the craze, the need, the exhaustion that tells me he really hasn’t been sleeping.
We all stay silent for a moment, but the energy between us is tense.
“Please!” Kai snaps, pushing to his feet aggressively. “I can’t fucking leave here to go get her myself, so I’m asking to use all the fucking tools at our desposal to find her! Do it, Reis. Get the information and then lose her number.” Kai takes Reis' phone out of his hand, opens the contacts, finds Reis' mom and then hands the phone back to him. “This isn’t that hard.”
“Okay,” Reis says, taking a deep breath. “Okay. For Melody.”
“For Melody.” I repeat, nodding in support.
“I…Fuck,” Reis groans and presses the dial. “Here goes nothing.”
FORTY-FIVE
I told myself I wouldn’t call my mother. Ever.
But here I am.
For Melody.
“Hello?” an older voice on the other end answers. I’m hit with all the times she would bitch me out after school because I spent my time writing poetry instead of learning a skill she considered better. She wanted me to go to college. Become a doctor or something “well-paying and better than making up stories in my head about that girl all day.” She would yell at me for my obvious feelings for Mel; about how she thought it was disrespectful that Melody was friends with me and the guys.
And any time, any fucking time Melody came around, Mom would give her the cold shoulder while being loving and open to the guys.
It killed me.
“Mom,” I say strongly, clearing my throat. “It’s Reis.”
“Reis,” she cries excitedly. “Oh my god, Reis. How are you, my boy? You’re in England right now, right? I’ve been watching your career, son. You… You did it. What you always said you were going to do. Make it big.”
She sounds almost reverent as she speaks. Awed. Like she’s trying to convince me she believed it all along, even after spending most of my upbringing telling me I wouldn’t amount to anything.
“Yes. The guys and I are in the UK. We’ll be heading back to London tomorrow. I need to ask you a favor actually,” I say, jumping right to the chase. I don’t want to stand here and listen to her lie to me to try and get in my good graces. I’m not interested in small talk with this woman.
I’m just hoping her apparent love for this version of me will make it easier for me to get what I need.
“A favor?” She half-laughs, half-scoffs. “You call me up after seven years asking me for a favor?”
I mentally groan. That tone in her voice is filled with disbelief and disdain.
I know right then that I’m not getting anything from her.
“Yeah, I am.” I straighten my spine and steel my voice. “I need to know if you’ve seen Melody around Haven recently.”
There’s a beat of silence that turns from disbelief to anger.
“Melody…Sullivan? That girl who used to hang around with you all?”
“You know who Melody is,” I grumble.
“And you want to know if I’ve seen her? Have you?” My mom scoffs and I can hear her laughing under her breath.
“That is what I asked, yes. Have you seen her?” I know there’s a slim chance. Melody always avoided my mom like the plague and my mom… Well, let’s just say she would never admit to noticing someone “so far beneath her.” I was always one bad moment away from being slapped or disowned.
God, this woman pisses me off.
There’s a reason why I stayed away, and it wasn’t only because of how she treated Melody.
It’s how she treated me.
“Melody Sullivan? No, I haven’t seen or heard from that girl since the day after you left, and I hope I never see her or hear her name again.”
What? My mind short circuits and a fury starts to build in my chest, red tingeing my vision.
“What did you just say?” I ask softly, a little louder than a whisper.
“What?” Her tone changes. She knows what she did… she knows that she fucked up and I’m going to lose my shit.
“You talked with Melody the day after we left?” I ask again, my voice lowering darkly.
“I told you that,” she answers, switching gears. There’s no fucking way. If she remembers that the last time I talked with her was the same week we left, then she remembers that conversation with Melody. My mom is slick like that; she remembers everything, especially when she thinks someone did her wrong.
“You didn’t. In fact, you went so far as to say the opposite,” I snap, my voice picking up.
“I did not. I distinctly remember that you and I talked and you hung up on me.” She’s trying to fucking gaslight me out of remembering one of the most heart-wrenching memories of my life. Is she serious?
“You sure as fuck said that to me. “Melody hasn’t come by, hasn’t asked, she doesn’t care about you.” Sound familiar?!” I yell into the phone. My chest hurts as the realization comes around again that Melody really didn’t leave us back then. She went so far as to ask my mom where I was, and I’m sure this witch was evil to her. Probably blamed her for everything she could think of.
