Page 11 of Not Another Rockstar
He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have accused you both, but seeing you on his bed in his clothes… I lost my mind, and I don’t want to lose you.”
His gaze fixed on her, waiting for her to respond.
“Eyes on the road,” she snapped.
“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I wouldn’t be me without you. You’re my muse.” His eyes were on the road again, but he didn’t slow down.
“If we were meant to be together, then you wouldn’t have needed to find comfort in someone else. Some time away from each other might be what’s best for us. You’ll have to find another muse.”
She tried to keep her calm as he ran a red light.
His nostrils flared. “What about the songs we made together? Without your lyrics, we would be nothing. You can’t just give up on us.”
Phoebe couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Is it me you don’t want to lose or the songs? I never considered you were keeping me around as a song factory. Is that why you proposed, to make sure you didn’t lose your writing partner? It’d make it much harder for me to break up with you if we were married.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, I love you! We’ve written together since forever. It has nothing to do with our engagement. I just want you to know how much I love you, how much I need you.”
Need me?She had never asked for song credit or payment, and even agreed to keep her involvement from the other members of the band because she didn’t want her brother knowing she helped write their songs. But now, it just made their relationship feel like a business arrangement.
“Do you love her?” she asked, not letting memories of the past sway her. “Since Helen looked at me like I was the other woman, she has feelings for you.”
“Does it matter?” Cillian rolled his neck like her words irritated him. “You’re going to throw away over a decade together because of how she looked at you?” The anger she’d witnessed in the tour bus crept into his words. “You don’t knowthe whole story!” Cillian banged the steering wheel again and again, and she flinched away. She’d never seen him act this way.
“Does it matter? Clearly not, since you threw away a decade together for something you can’t even explain. I’ll explain for you then: you were drunk, high, missed me, lonely, got caught up, and my personal favourite, she threw herself at you and you couldn’t resist?” She was losing her patience. “At least tell me how long you’ve been cheating. Since we’ve been engaged or before?” She didn’t want the details, but she wanted him to face what he’d done.
“You’re putting words in my mouth. Why can’t you understand the pressure I’m—”
“Just save your breath. I’m glad she was around to give you the release you needed.”
Phoebe’s cheap shot earned her the silent treatment. Cillian sped up, and she realised they’d been driving far longer than necessary. There was little to no traffic on the roads this early, and the speed he was doing had her heart hammering.
“What are you doing? You said you’d take me to my hotel,” she asked, whipping her head around to watch the hotel disappear behind them. “Please slow down, you’re going to kill us!”
He took a sharp turn and clipped a bollard. The car shuddered on impact, but luckily they didn’t spin out. She let out a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived.
“Not until you tell me that you can forgive me. I can’t lose you,” he said, and sped down a narrow lane.
Phoebe screamed as they clipped the curb on the next turn. Blaring horns echoed behind them, and she prayed police would pull them over soon.
“Please pull over, and we can talk. I promise I’ll listen if you just pull over.”
He ignored her and ran a red light, cutting across traffic at a busy intersection.
“We’ve never been apart; I can’t do any of this without you. I haven’t come up with anything for the next album. Writing with you ruined me. Loving you has ruined me. You can’t give up on us.” Every word was frantic, but she wasn’t even sure if he was talking to her.
The tires screeched, and they swerved violently. Phoebe’s scream cut out as her head knocked against the window. Disorientated by the blow, she begged him to stop. Cillian locked eyes with her. His lips were moving, but she couldn’t hear him. Glass shattered, and she raised her hands to protect her face. The air was knocked from her lungs as she was flung forward, and the seatbelt cut into her. The cry of grinding metal replaced the sound of morning traffic, and then everything went still.
After watching Cillian run out of the tour bus after Phoebe, Axel needed to get some air. He also needed to talk to Nick about why he’d asked Cillian to take Phoebe home, even though Axel had told him last night that she’d made it clear she didn’t want to see or talk to her ex.
He headed to Nick’s bus.
“How was your night? Did Phoebe get back to the hotel okay?” Nick asked, cracking open an energy drink and passing it to Axel.
They still had one more night to perform in Munich, so the band were waiting around until sound check. Nick’s bus was packed with snacks, clothes, scented candles and his own pillows from home. Phoebe’s brother never had understood the concept of travelling light. At least they weren’t all cramped together in one bus anymore.
August strummed his guitar in the corner, minding his own business. He looked fresh compared to them; his dark curls were tied back in a messy knot exposing his tattooed ear. He offeredAxel a polite nod, never being big on talking or drama. It was Axel’s favourite thing about him.
