“I was twenty,” I say quietly. “Nolan said they wanted to introduce me to people. Industry contacts. I thought it was about music, and maybe making it big.” A bitter laugh slips out. “Emma was so fucking proud. She believed in me more than I ever believed in myself.”
I pause, the air in my chest suddenly dense as hell. “But I drank. I did drugs for the first time. I don’t remember much. Just flashes. Music. A hotel suite. Then…” My voice falters. “Blood. On my hands. On my clothes. Fucking everywhere.”
My throat tightens. “They told me I’d spend the rest of my life in prison if it got out. Nolan said he could make it all go away, and that my talent couldn’t just bewasted.” I swallow hard. “I was scared, so I listened. I fuckinglistenedlike a dumbass kid who thought fear disguised as loyalty would save him. I felt like I owed Nolan for saving my stupid ass. I used to have anger issues when I was younger. My parents made me go through angermanagement and all that. So, when I realized what I’d done...I agreed. I was just too fucking scared. If I walked away, then I would have likely gone to prison. All because of this rage inside me.”
Micah swears under his breath, rubbing the back of hisneck. Cups clink, and voices murmur all around us, but it all sounds distant, muffled, like I’m underwater.
“I thought I could still hold on to something good,” I whisper. “To her. But every time I looked at Emma, all I could see was what I’d done. What I was becoming in their world. I couldn’t drag her into that hell, so I left. I let her hate me, thinking I abandoned her for my career.” My chest tightens. “It was easier than watching her try to love someone who didn’t deserve her anymore.”
A shaky breath escapes me. “She would’ve told me I was wrong. That I still deserved good things. That I wasn’t beyond saving.” I stare down at the table, my voice barely holding together. “Emma has this way of seeing the light in people—even when they’ve already burned it out themselves. But I knew it would destroy her, having to dig through every layer of my darkness just to keep track of that dying light inside me.”
Micah nods slowly. “You protected her, man. Don’t beat yourself up for that. It’s a tragic reality that I hate seeing play out before me.” He paused, pointing out the window. “Because that girl? She fucking cares for you.”
I let out a hollow laugh. “Protected her? Maybe at first. But then the drugs took over. They force-fed me that shit until I couldn’t tell where I ended and this new fucking monster began.” My hands knot together on the table, knuckles white. “I stayed with Emma for a while, but I was already halfway gone. She watched me start to rot. Caught me popping oxy just so I wouldn’t shake around her. She knew I was slipping.”
My jaw tightens. “After I left, Adriana made her move. I didn’t fight it. I was wrecked—heartbroken, high, too numb to care. So I fucked her. And she’s had her claws in me ever since.” The words taste like ash. “I haven’t slept with anyone but once with my first girlfriend, then Emma, and then Adriana. Twenty-seven fucking years old.”
Silence stretches between us. My pulse hammers behind my eyes.
Finally, I whisper, “The worst part is...I’d do it all again. Every bit of it. If it meant she’d never see the kind of person I really am.”
Micah sits with that for a long time. Then he exhales softly. “You’re not that person, though, Jude.”
His words don’t reach the decay in my chest. Because I don’t believe him. Not anymore. I shake my head. “I am. I just watched her cry over me, and the first thing I thought about was how much I wanted to hold her again.” My voice cracks. “That’s not love, Micah. That’s fucking selfish.” The words scrape my throat. When I finally look up, his eyes have softened.
“Maybe it’s not selfish,” he says quietly. “Maybe it’s the last part of you that’s still human. Hold onto that.” His voice breaks as he leans in. “I hate what you’ve become, too—but you can’t let them kill you. That’s what they want, Jude. Your soul. Your heart. Don’t let them fucking take it. You hear me?”
I stare down at my coffee. The surface trembles, and my reflection stares back—hollow eyes, bruised skin, the ghost of someone I used to be.
“You don’t either,” I whisper, so softly it barely sounds like words.
Micah nods once. But his eyes tell me everything. He already thinks it’s too late.
Monday morning hits like a migraine that won’t fucking quit. I’m half-dressed and half-alive when Adriana’s voice cuts through the fog in my brain. “We’re going out. Take me somewhere.”
She looks softer today—hair tied up, jeans instead of designer dresses. Sweet, even. My stomach twists at the observation. She’s too pretty for what she does, for what she makes me do. Well, she does to me what Nolan does to her. It’s a cycle of abuse that stops with me. She’s never told me the severity of it, but I imagine it’s bad.
Micah groans and buries himself deeper in the blankets.
“Taking an interest in me now, other than my cock?” I mutter, pulling on my hoodie. “Wild of you, Adriana.”
Her mouth snaps shut. The silence is awkward, but I don’t take it back. She follows me into the living room, where I crush some oxy and snort it. As the burn settles, I snatch my keys and step into the partly-cloudy morning.
“You wanna be my girlfriend now or something?” I add, sliding into my matte black Audi R8, the engine growling awake.
“Iamyour girlfriend.” She exhales, eyes on the window. “And I’m just trying to bring you some kind of relief.”
I swallow. Could make a snide comment. Decide against it. “Fine,” I sigh. “I’ll show you around.”
She doesn’t look at me, but a small smile tugs at her lips. “Thank you,” she says quietly.
The closer we get to Seaside, the tighter my chest feels. I used to love this road—windows down, Emma’s laughter, wind tangling her gorgeous brown hair.
At Ecola State Park, the sun burns through some clouds, pouring over the bay. I pay the fee and drive to Ecola Point. Adriana is quiet, probably wondering why I brought her.
I get out and lean against the car, hands shoved into my pockets. The salty wind cuts through my bones, and the ocean glitters below. Adriana steps out beside me, her auburn hair catching the sun.
I pull my hoodie up to avoid attention. She circles and joins me. For a moment, it’s just wind, seagulls, waves. Then she says, “So this is where you grew up? Much nicer than my town.”