CALUMCathy hasn’t called me. Do I put down my full number? But it might attract the wrong people. I already got a few prank calls. I shove more clothes into my box. A few times, my gaze drifts to the phone on the wrinkled bedsheet. Why won’t it ring? Did she see the post? I dump a shirt in my box without folding it and pick up the phone. The post from that day has garnered tons of insults, comments, and some gifts. What if she saw it and couldn’t be bothered? I type in a shorter version of the message I left. If there was an option to privatise my post, I would, but that lessens the chances of her seeing it. But Lord knows I’m tired of half the comments in the thread telling me to suck it up. I don’t want to suck anything up except she’s the one sucking me up. I miss everything about that girl. She’s my all.Done folding the clothes, I drag my box to the living room. The driver will be here to take us a

CALUMLondon is the same as I remember. Loud, bubbly, with its citizens rushing off like they all have an emergency. We arrived a few hours ago. The boys crashed once they were shown their room, but me, I haven’t been able to sleep a wink. Not even on the flight here. I fluff some pillows, plant my head between two of them and force myself to sleep. My brain is a mess, my mind is a sea of images and memories. Scott hasn’t found the PI yet but he’s working on it. I make an X sign on my chest with my arms. If Cathy was here, what would she say? You need to rest, Cal.Her sweet, soft, seductive voice is a lamp in the darkness inside my head. My eyes shut. The next time they open, grey clouds hover outside my window. I stagger to the window and pull the curtains close. My brain is muddled, and my body feels like jelly. I stub my toe against the box I left on the floor and hop on one foot to the bed. Pain skyrockets through my feet as I settle d

CALUMA ghost of a smile flies across my lips as soon as those words leaves Lucas. I must have terrified him if he’s this riled up. “I’ll try,” I murmur. They both give my shoulders a squeeze and part for me to exit. I backtrack to my room, grab my wallet and sunglasses. There’s no time for a disguise. I’ll just have to deal with being popular, that’s if anyone will notice me. We are bigger in New York. Mum calls on my way out of Caleb’s house and my finger automatically hits the decline button. How could she? What was the reason? What excuse or explanation can she give that would make this better?My phone rings again. I put it on silent mode and slide it into my pocket. Mum has done her best, it’s time for me to do mine.It takes only seventeen minutes to get a cab that will take me to Cathy’s address. It might have been my accent, but a lot of them have to ask me

He deleted his BC account, deactivated his email and his number is still unreachable. I don’t know if to laugh at myself or curl into a ball and cry. I don’t know how to feel. I tug the cover over my head, curling into a foetal position. Everything seems to be in shambles. Amelia doesn’t pick my calls. Ashley doesn’t want me at their house. I’m still pitifully clueless.Jason.Jason might know. I yank the cover off me and dial his number. I haven’t seen him since that night. I didn’t get to see him perform. Mace sneezes. I push a hand into his crib and he accepts it. He has no idea what I’ve done. That I saw his father.Will he forgive me? If we are to apportion blame, Dad will take the highest share, then me. Pushing myself closer to the edge of the bed, I peer into my son’s crib.“Uncle Jason isn’t picking,” I tell Mace. He pushes himself to his knees, and his hand locks around the

CALUMThe thick smell of smoke clogs the air. I pull out the joint between my teeth and puffs of smoke escape my lips and nose. My eyes water as the choking smell of weed invades the studio. It will take a while for me to get used to smoking this much. Not like it helps, it only dulls the pain for a few hours. Heartbreak sucks.A door opens somewhere behind me. It has to be one of my nosy bandmates, and I’m proved right when someone snatches the blunt from my hand and stomps it on the floor. I glare at their foot, my gaze trailing up to the face of a very unimpressed Sam.“You can’t smoke in here,” Sam says.“Who says?” “I do. It’s my fucking house,” he mutters. I almost roll my eyes. He shouldn’t invite me over then if he will police my behaviour.Stopping behind me, he places a hand on my shoulder. The door opens, but I don’t bother to check the