Page 40 of Composed
I tug my tongue stud, his words twisting in my mind. “Why didn’t you leave the label?”
“We’d have owed them millions. Not to mention the fact they’d probably have blacklisted us.” I hear him move around, a water bottle uncapping, a swallow. “Remember how excited I was when we got the contract?”
I nod, though he can’t see me. “Hm.”
“Turns out, we were fucking stupid and too young to realise. We signed every bit of creative control over to them for ten years. Not sure we could even take a shit without their approval.”
I’ve never heard him sound so…lost. He was always so sure, so confident in who he was and who he was going to become. He had it all figured out.
My eyes sting. “I’m so sorry, Cole.”
“It is what it is. Too late to go back and change it now.”
Yeah, way too fucking late.
“So, what now?” I ask. “The contract is over, right?”
“Yep.” He clicks his tongue. “And unless I can figure out a way to revive the music inside of me, Reckless Abandon is over too.”
Pain lances my chest.
I scrub a palm over it as I stare down at the mess of discarded sheet music on the floor.
The thought of giving him hope, only to rip it away…
“Did you fall asleep on me?” he asks softly.
“No.” My lips lift. “Still here. Just lost in my own world.”
“Is it a good place to get lost?”
“Some days. Others, not so much.”
“What about today? Is it good today?”
“Maybe.” A tired laugh slips from my lips. “Ask me again later.”
“Okay.” He breathes, then silence fills the line.
I curl a hand into my bedding, the black cotton soft and warm, as the air thickens around me. “I want to help you.”
“Help, as in…”
I pull in a slow breath. “I want to write together. You and me. Like we used to.”
“Yeah?” I hear the soft smile in his voice, the hope buried beneath the guarded rock star. “You’ll really do this with me?”
My lip twitches, curling sadly.
I remember a time we had a conversation almost word-for-word like this one. Only, we were different people then, on different paths.
If only those two kids could see us now.
They’d be so disappointed.
“A world where Reckless Abandon doesn’t exist isn’t a good one,” I tell him, laying back and staring at the ceiling. “So yeah. I’ll do this with you.”
I don’t need to see him to know he’s grinning. I canfeelit. “Thank you.”
