Best Friend's Ex Box Set

It was the most she had spoken to me in over a month. Seeing her hadn’t brought on the reaction I had expected. My heart had fucking ached like an invisible knife had been stabbed into it repeatedly the entire time I was near her. And even though she had been pissed at the time, I had wanted nothing more than to drag her off stage and kiss her senseless in a corner somewhere until she started talking to me again.

I didn’t understand what the hell was going on, and she was refusing to talk to me, so she wasn’t telling me anything. It was maddening, and it had been tearing me apart from the inside for more than a month now. My whole world had been stuck in a crazy cycle of irritation, anger, frustration, uncertainty, and hopelessness the entire time. And even though I was always able to push it out of my mind for the few moments that I was on stage, the rest of the time there was no way to escape the awful feelings that swirled through me.

Did I mention it was maddening? But at least I had the stage. At least I had some form of escape for a little while.

The lights dimmed, and I took in a deep breath, preparing for the performance. The screaming from the dark amphitheater grew louder. Typically, I enjoyed this moment. It was usually like the moments just before the roller coaster dips into a one hundred foot drop. That moment where you know the rush is coming and you can’t wait for it to begin.

Tonight, I couldn’t totally say I was amped up to do this. In fact, I was just looking forward to the moment where I walked off stage, when it was all over. For the first time in my life, I didn't want to walk on stage; I just really wasn't in the mood. And that scared me.

“Ready?” Talon asked, slapping me on the back as he stepped up next to me. Though we hadn’t officially put our differences aside, we were brothers, and brothers fought from time to time. It wasn’t the first drag down we’d had, and I doubted it would be the last.

“Ready,” I lied.

He shot me a grin and walked out from behind the curtain, followed by the rest of the guys. I caught a glimpse of the cut on his forehead as he turned to smile at me. It had been cleaned up, but it was still noticeable, and I immediately felt like the ass I knew I was. A pang of guilt shot through me. I had been a total asshat for taking all of my pent up frustrations out on him.

I’d been an even bigger dick for not having had the decency to properly apologize for it. Unfortunately, that would have to wait. We had to a show to play at the moment, whether I was ready to step on stage or not.

I shook the tension from my arms, rotating my neck a few times to loosen some of the tightness there. It was show time. I activated my mic and ran out onto the stage, the crowd screaming in a fre

nzy, the lights of their cell phones and cameras flashing left and right.

“What’s up, Florida?” I yelled as the guys launched into the song we always opened with. “Are you ready to do this? Are you ready to rock?” It was my typical concert opening line, so I tried to sell it even though I knew it fell a little short of my usual enthusiasm.

They screamed back, and I grinned, sliding my gaze to the wing where I knew Nalia liked to stand even though she was avoiding me. It was like she knew I couldn’t just run off stage and force her to talk to me. But she wasn’t there. The spot was empty. Intense disappointment washed over me with its bone-chilling certainty, and even the roar of the crowd couldn't do anything to lift my spirits when I saw the empty spot.

Nearly missing my cue, I caught it just in time and started to sing, the weight of her absence as heavy as a rusty anchor dragging itself across the sea floor. Where the hell was she? She couldn’t possibly be so mad at me that she wasn’t going to support the rest of the guys. The thought that she might have left scared me shitless.

I tried to focus on the songs, but I was on autopilot; my thoughts kept swirling around the fact that she still hadn’t shown up to keep an eye on things from the sidelines. She couldn’t have just up and left. We hadn’t even discussed whatever it was that had happened between us.

Somehow, I made it through the songs without screwing any of them up. It certainly helped that the crowd was one of the better ones we had performed in front of in a while. For that, at least, I was grateful. As I started into the last song, I focused only on the top deck, hoping Nalia was listening somewhere, hoping she was somewhere that she could hear the words and the way I sang the ballad.

Earlier, she had been a distraction when I practiced it, but this evening all I could think about was her—wishing she was sitting there listening once more. I had hoped she was going to be my saving grace. But she wasn’t there.

“Encore! Encore!” the crowd screamed as I finished the final notes of the last song, knowing that our set was complete. I gave them a smile and a wave of my hand and walked off stage, just like we always did, so that we could catch a breather before launching into two more songs.

“God, those people are amazing tonight! They've really got me all revved up!” Talon announced. “I totally feel like I could play another full set right now!” he remarked as he grabbed the towels we had placed backstage, or rather that Nalia had placed there for us. The thought of her had me scanning the wings again, looking for her face, even if it was an angry one. I just needed to see her.

When I didn’t find her amongst the sea of faces, I grabbed a stagehand who was walking past. “Hey, have you seen Nalia around?”

He looked at me a little confused, like I should have known something I clearly didn’t. “Dude, she left right after you guys went on stage.”

I let go of his arm. “Thanks,” I said as all of the fight left me. I couldn’t go back out there and pretend that everything was okay when my world was on its side. “I’m done,” I announced to surprised looks from the rest of the guys and the staff close by. “No encores tonight.”

“But, it’s our next-to-last show for this tour,” Talon said, frowning. “Why wouldn’t we do an encore?”

“Because I just don’t fucking feel like it,” I growled, yanking my mic off and walking away, not caring what they thought. “Fuck the encores. You guys can go out there and jam an instrumental if you want, but I'm done. I can’t do this tonight.”

I needed to find Nalia.

The private car ride to the hotel was excruciating. I checked my cell phone a dozen times; each time ended with my thumb hovering over the button that would dial her number. I was afraid I wouldn’t get her or that I would get her and not know what to say. What would I say? This was a serious Catch 22 moment. Any blind man could see there was something wrong between us, something much more than just her not wanting to see me anymore.

As I rode, I fantasized that she just wanted to surprise me back at the hotel, to make up for whatever had been going on for the past month. But deep down, I knew that couldn't be the case. I wished it were; it would have been beyond amazing if it were. But I knew in my heart that it couldn't be. Still, the thought raised a flare of hope just fantasizing about the possibility. I prayed it was true, needed to hope that it was true. But I knew better.

The car pulled up to the front door, and I hopped out. For the first time in my career, I walked in, ignoring the fans gathered there as I made my way inside. Nalia was the only thing on my mind. I hurried upstairs and pushed open my hotel room, still half expecting to find her standing there, that small smile on her face. Instead, I found an empty room, no different than I had left it. Dammit.

With a heavy sigh, I walked over to the bed and plopped down. The flashing indicator on the phone caught my eye. A message. There were never messages in the hotel. A funny feeling attacked my stomach as I picked up the phone and pressed the button. The moment I heard Nalia’s sweet voice filling my ear, I wasn’t sure if I should smile or throw up.

“Owen,” she began, her voice not breathless like I had heard it in the past when she said my name, “by the time you hear this, I will have already headed for home. I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. I’m not cut out for this and, obviously, my presence is causing more of a distraction than a help, so I think it’s best that I go now. I want to thank you for the opportunity again.” She paused, and I felt a glimmer of hope, hoping that she would say something about us and not this business-like response she was giving me.