Page 4 of Beneath Cherry Blossom Memories

We leave tomorrow, and I need to get it together. Just knowing that Eli’s most recent boyfriend is going to be traveling with us has me wanting to peel my skin off so that I have an excuse not to go. If I could get away with it, I’d stay in this spot for six months.Easily.But I don’t have that option, and as much as I like to pretend it’ll all be miserable, I know that isn’t true.

I love playing. I love making music. And I love my drums almost as much as Helios.

Mom has videos of me somewhere banging on pots and pans as an infant and holding a beat. It’s in my genetic makeup. She used to play violin for some fancy orchestra before settling down and having a million babies. Dad played the sax for a jazz band in the 80s. My oldest brother, Darien, plays piano like some angel, but he went into real estate instead of music. Regardless, I know this is what I’m supposed to do. Broken heart and ex-boyfriend aside, this tour ishugefor Dreadful.

“Alright, baby. Daddy’s gotta go,” I whisper to my fur child and nuzzle him again.

He merely stretches and closes his eyes.

“What’s up with that snare, man?” Devon hollers at me, muting his bass with his palm.

Michael’s wailing guitar stops abruptly. I hurry to tighten it up. We’ve been jamming for a few hours, and I’m off my game. Fucked up a few songs that I’ve played hundreds of times because my mind isn’t here in the studio. It’s split between my bed with Helios and Leon Persson’s bed, where I know he’s getting railed from behind bymyex.

Fuck.

Giving myself a mental shake, I start from the top again. Everyone looks at me funny before getting back to business.

Kelly mouths,are you okay?

I nod fast, feet hammering the bass drum peddle.

Sweat drips down my back while I lose myself in the music. This is only practice, and I’m fucking up. Jorge will smother me in my sleep if I slip up on stage. The drummer carries the rest of the band. The songs will sound terrible if that beat is off even by a second. And with microphones attached to my kit, the amps up full volume, the crowd will hear it. I must be hyper-fixating on that possibility because I fumble the beat again.

“Time out!” Jorge yells into the microphone, and we all collectively stop.

I’m breathing hard, a little winded, because I’ve been sleeping like shit and haven’t been eating as much. Wiping my face with the hand towel I keep under my stool, I wait for Jorge to get on my ass. A few moments pass, and I look up to see he’s on his phone. It confuses me for three seconds until he glances at me, eyes softening into puddles.

“Shit, man. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Fuck me in the dick with a razor.“It’s no big deal,” I mumble, busying myself with my cymbals.

“What happened?” Devon and Kelly ask in unison. Michael studies me before setting his guitar on its stand.

All of them are looking at me. My skin crawls while my stomach knots. “It’s fine,” I say pointedly to Jorge, but my best friend ignores me.

“Eli is with Leon.Motherfucker.”

“Ew. Another drummer? Seriously?” Kelly makes a face.

My nonexistent heart shrivels into a gross little raisin. “Are you okay, bro? Seriously, do you need to talk?” Devon adds.

I grab my bottle of water instead of answering them. So they start talking without me.

“That’s pretty low.”

“Hehasto know we’re going on tour with them.”

“Do you think he’ll tag along?”

“Shit. Hope not.”

I don’t even know who is saying what at this point. Unfortunately, they all know our history. The dirty details of how we met, how I pined for him way longer than anyone would deem healthy before he put me out of my misery, and we started down the path of me falling in love with him. And then, of course, everything that went down a year ago. I don’t fault them for being protective of me because I can’t deny the dark place I went to. But I would appreciate it if they all stopped.

Just shut the fuck up.

Everyone is quiet, four pairs of round eyes on me. “Did I say that out loud?”

Jorge nods, gulping. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

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