After much internal debate and soul searching over the next several weeks, I ended up taking a semester leave from Rice. The school was more than understanding about the situation with Evie and gave me up to one year to return without having to re-apply. I moved in with my grandparents and focused on getting myself well. I began to see a therapist on a weekly basis and joined a support group for young adults who had lost a close friend or significant other. In addition to grieving Evie’s death, I also found that I needed to take control and responsibility for my own life. For way too long, I had used other people as a crutch to make my decisions. My parents had pushed that way of life upon me, but what I didn’t realize was that when I moved out, I had just replaced them with Evie. It had taken months and months of treatment and rehabilitation, but finally my healing process had reached a place where I felt comfortable getting back to my life. It was important to me to return to Rice and get my degree. That had been a huge goal of Evie’s and now I owed it to her, to both of us, to fulfill that dream of ours.
So exactly one year later, I found myself pulling up in the same parking lot, preparing myself for my second chance at my life. I jumped out of my car, grabbed my suitcase, and hurried to my room. I had gotten a late start leaving my grandparents and it was already dark outside. I wanted to get unpacked quickly so that I could shower and change. I wanted to look my best for what I had planned to do that night. I had no idea of what kind of reception I could expect.
It was after midnight when I finally pulled up to the familiar warehouse, the parking lot was packed which I had assumed it would be. Most students were getting back in town this week and everyone was looking to go out and party before school started up again. I had not texted nor talked to either Ash or Mason since I had left. I had changed my number within a week of the meltdown, so I wasn’t sure if either of them had tried to contact me or not.
Eight months. It had been eight months and I was nervous as hell to see either of them, much less both of them at the same time. However, I knew they were both there, I saw Ash’s car when I pulled in and Mason’s bike was parked up by the door. I knew there was a good chance that they were both probably there with someone else and I had vowed to myself to not make a scene. I wasn’t looking to cause any problems. I had come to say my piece and when I was finished, I would accept whatever response or reaction they had. I had prepared myself for anything—they could ignore me and not give me the time of day or they could go bat-shit crazy screaming at me about what a bitch I was. Whatever happened, I knew that I needed to do this.
I had hoped for a large crowd, it was easier to hide myself in all of the people. I wanted to have a drink for a bit of liquid courage before going through with my plan. I found a seat at the bar furthest away from where Mason and his crew usually sat next to a couple of other girls. I kept my eyes downward at the bar as I sipped my beer; I did not want to make eye contact with anyone in case it was someone I knew or who recognized me.
There was a girl up on stage that I remembered from when I used to hang out there. She had a beautiful voice and was equally talented with the keyboard. I knew that she was usually slotted close to the end of the lineup on open mic Fridays so I wouldn’t have to wait long. When she was finished, the announcer introduced the next musician as a guy at the back of the stage area began walking forward. If I had thought I was prepared to see Ash again, I was wrong. I sucked in a deep breath as a wave of emotions crashed over me. There he stood, in all of his glorious surf-bum wonder, dressed in his signature khaki cargos, button down guevara shirt, and flip flops. His hair still hung long and shaggy in his face and just looking at it made me want to push it back behind his ears.
As always, Ash pulled a stool up on stage, he hated playing while standing up, and made himself comfortable. The girl sitting next to me leaned over to her friend and said not so quietly, “Here we go again with butterfly boy.”
Her friend gave her a questioning look, “What are you talking about? Is he gay? All the hot ones are always gay.” She muttered the last sentence shaking her head.
“No, he’s not gay, stupid ass. I call him butterfly boy because he always sings that damn butterfly song and has that tattoo on his arm.”
My head shot up and my eyes scanned his arms. My stomach dropped to the floor when I saw the same tattoo that donned my left calf inked on his left forearm. How did he know? I never even got a chance to tell him that night about it. My mind started swirling and it took everything in me to remain seated at the bar and collect myself before reacting foolishly.
I took slow and steady breaths until I felt my body relax a bit, and then I took a huge drink of my beer. I didn’t need to get drunk by any means, but my nerves needed some drowning, quickly. Hearing his voice again was another huge test of my will, and it almost broke me. Almost.
Ash walked off the back of the stage and I saw him glare over at whoever was taking the stage next. My eyes followed his heated stare and I found Mason returning the sentiment with a glower just as fierce. Ash stepped off the single step and moved directly into the arms of a busty blonde waiting for him. Some things never change. The girl next to me piped up again, “Now this is what I’m talking about. That’s Rat,” she explained to her friend. “His brother owns this place and he’s like the rock god around here. He’s the lead singer for Jobu’s Rum, but he always sings solo on Fridays.”
Both girls openly gawked at the figure on the stage and it reminded me of Mina telling me about Mason the first time I was there. “He’s . . . wow,” the friend finally responded.
“I know, wait until you hear his voice. You’re going to need a new pair of panties when you leave here,” the first girl said matter-of-factly.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He hadn’t changed a bit since that morning I had left him sleeping in his bed. He had on a black t-shirt with a pair of jeans and his black boots. My heart had stopped when I first saw Ash, but the sight of Mason had made it beat double-time. I wondered what he was going to sing as he adjusted the microphone. He always stood when he performed which reminded me of just another way he was so different from Ash. I held on to the bar to physically brace myself to hear his voice.
“Good morning Houston! Are y’all having a good time?” he yelled and the entire bar went crazy. I thought the girls next to me were going to strip and rush him on the stage at any moment. “The place is packed tonight and I know that most of you guys are getting ready to head back to school, so let’s make this a night to remember. What do ya say?” Again frenzied screaming and clapping ensued. “That’s what I like to hear. Alright, tonight I’m going to start off with Jobu’s Rum latest single.” He looked over in the direction that I was sitting and I swore that he stared straight into my eyes for a brief moment. He turned his attention back toward a girl who had screamed “I love you Rat!” and he laughed. “I love all of y’all too.”
During his first song, I had to do more breathing exercises and continue to think about the last eight months. I could do this. I could do this. I had to give myself a pep talk several times during that three minute period. When he finished, everyone in the bar went wild. “Thank you guys,” he interrupted the applause. “Thank you. Okay this next one I’ve never performed in public, it’s a song that’s a few years old. I actually ran across it again a couple of months ago and it couldn’t have been at a more perfect time in my life. I was saving it for . . .” His voice trailed off for a moment and he looked toward Ash’s table. “Well, I guess it really doesn’t matter what I was saving it for, that day will never come, my angel flew away. So tonight it’s for all of you!”
Where I felt that Ash’s words were going to break me, Mason’s healed me. His voice, and the love and longing in his words, filled every one of my remaining holes and made me feel complete. I suddenly felt more determined than ever to do what I had come to do. I slipped off of my barstool and headed around the perimeter of the warehouse. I wanted to remain unseen by Mason. He finished the song and allowed th
e crowd to reward him with cheers and whistles. He leaned his acoustic on an amp setting on the side of the stage and jumped down to head toward his friends.
I took a deep breath and reminded myself of everything that I had discovered about love and respect and dignity over the last several months. Unrequited love was basically just infatuation, and that was exactly what I had with Ash for so long. Love was about sacrifice and putting the wants and needs of the other person in front of your own. Ash was never willing to do that for me. Other than the times that Ash and I had spent locked away from the real world, our relationship was tumultuous and filled with drama. He was always upsetting me by openly being with other girls in front of me or doing things to purposely keep me from being happy. It was like he kept me on a string and if he thought I was getting too far away from him, too close to someone else, he would reel me back in. I knew that Ash cared about me, but he didn’t love me. He loved himself too much to love anyone else. Mason, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. He went out of his way to make me happy and comfortable. He loved making me laugh and wasn’t afraid to put himself out there for me. I never got upset with Mason, not once. And despite all that, I had allowed my infatuation and fascination with Ash, someone who could never give me what I deserved, to get in the way of that. It was time for me to apologize.
I climbed onto the back of my stage and walked toward the front, grabbing Mason’s acoustic on the way. “Excuse me everyone,” my voice was shaky and unsure. A few people took notice of me as I waited to get the attention of the person I wanted it from the most. It only took a minute or so as the collective voice lowered and dropped to hushed whisper. Then I heard Sebastian say “Oh shit, Rat, it’s Angel,” and instantly the place got silent.
I lifted the microphone back to my mouth, “I’m sorry I’m late, but I really need to perform a song tonight. I’ve wasted so much time, it just can’t wait any longer.” Mason’s face stayed stoic, not giving me an inch, but his gray eyes turned into a shimmery silver that shined back at me. He gave me a slight nod indicating I should go on. The eyes of everyone in the warehouse were jumping back and forth from Mason to me and then back to Mason.
I began to strum his guitar and sing about apologies from a guy who had hurt me, a guy who would purposely make me too warm only to leave me out in the cold, a guy who didn’t take the time to appreciate the beauty that he had until it was too late . . . and all that was left for him to do was apologize because it had become clear that I had fallen in love with another man.
After I sang the words of the last verse, “It’s way too late for dignity, It’s time for apologies,” I assumed both Ash and Mason understood my intentions. However, I didn’t want to leave something that important up to assumptions.
I looked directly in Mason’s eyes and pleaded, “Mason, I know what I did was wrong in so many ways, but I just want you to know that I am truly sorry.” I paused a brief moment to let my apology be heard. “I had someone treat me similar to the way that I treated you, and if he was to apologize, I’m not sure I would accept it because I know that I deserved better than that, and so did you. But I’m also here to let you know that people can change, I know for a fact because I am a completely different person than I was a year ago. The tragic events and loss of life I had to endure to get to this point, I wouldn’t wish on anyone, but I’m thankful that I was able to make something positive out of it by gaining control of my life.”
I took a deep breath before I finished what I had come to say. “I used to be a girl who believed in fairy tales. You know, the whole knight in shining armor riding in on a white horse that would lead me to my happily-ever-after. About eight months ago I lost hope and faith that I would ever find my prince, or to be more exact, that my prince would ever realize I was the one for him as he tried out all of the other princesses. But what I discovered was that I was in the wrong damn fairy tale the whole time, chasing the wrong damn prince. There’s a Psyche for every Eros, an Elizabeth for every Darcy, an Abby for every Travis,” I heard several females scream out “I love Travis,” and I couldn’t help but smile. That reference was for Evie’s all-time favorite book boyfriend. “And I only hope you still want me to be the Angel to your Rat.” I turned up my nose just slightly when I said his nickname. “All along I was wearing the wrong wings.”
Mason slowly made his way toward me and stepped up onto the stage. I didn’t move. He looked down at me and seared me with his intense stare. “Don’t you ever fly away again, Angel. I swear I’ll have your wings clipped.” Then he picked me up into his arms and crushed me against his body.
“I’ve missed you so much, Angel. I love you.”
“I love you too, Rat boy. I love you, too.”
ASH
Eight months. It had been eight goddamned months since I had seen her. It took everything inside me not to walk up on that stage and drag her off and claim her as mine once and for all. But I didn’t. I could see the look of determination in her eyes and the last thing I wanted to do was piss her off. I had a lot of making up to do and acting like a psychotic caveman in front of all of those people most definitely wasn’t the best way to start.
I couldn’t believe she was actually standing there. Finally. Scarlett had finally come back. I honestly wasn’t sure if she ever would. I thought that maybe, just maybe, losing her best friend and me shattering her heart within a matter of a two day period would have been too much for her to ever return, but once again, she proved to be the incredible person I knew she was. My butterfly.
She looked even more beautiful that I had remembered. I loved seeing my design permanently inked on her leg; I loved knowing that every day when she looked at it, she had to think of me, if only for a brief moment. I looked down at my forearm and smiled. My daily thoughts of her lasted way longer than brief moments. Scarlett MacGregor consumed me. Every hour of every day.
Hearing her smooth, silky voice as she began to sing sent a warm tingly feeling throughout my entire body and my cock instinctively hardened. God, how I had missed hearing that sweet sound. As she sang about apologies and love and hurt, I thought back to the last time I saw her. If there was ever a day in my life I could do a redo, that would be the one.
Death is a bitch, especially when someone who is way too young to die does. The day that Evie died, my world came crashing down around me. Not only was it painful and heartbreaking because Evie was my friend, but her death hurt the person I loved more than anything so badly and I didn’t know what to do. I had never in my life felt so helpless, so useless. I had tried to be there for Scarlett, I had tried holding her, talking to her, and just being with her, but she had completely frozen up. Her usually cheerful, sparkling brown eyes were dull and empty and her spirit was broken. After the funeral, she had insisted on being by herself. I knew that wasn’t a good idea, especially back at the apartment where she had so many memories with Evie, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. So by the time Jess, Meg, and I had returned to our house, I was pissed beyond belief at everyone and everything. I immediately closed myself off in my room because I knew better than to be around anyone else. I would most likely be a dick and say something I didn’t mean. I heard Jess say she was leaving for Jacob’s a few minutes later and that was followed by the closing of Meg’s bedroom door.
I ended up falling asleep; I was physically and mentally exhausted and drained. I wasn’t sure how long it had been but I was woken up by a knock on the front door. At first I thought it might be Scarlett that she had changed her mind about going back to her place, but when I opened the door I was disappointed to see some girl that I had been stupid enough to bring home with me a week or so before. I usually didn’t like these girls to know where I lived to avoid such situations. The girl, I can’t even remember her name, immediately latched on to me and started kissing my neck and telling me how much she had missed me and needed me. I tried pushing her off and telling her to go away, but damn if she wasn’t persistent. I just didn’t have the will in me to tell
her no a third time as her kissing continued and her hand stroked me outside my jeans. In what ended up being the worst decision of my life, I yanked her by the arm back to my room and tried to fuck my anger out.
The look on Scarlett’s face when she opened my bedroom door that night would be forever etched into my brain. It is what haunted me every night and pushed me to keep living every day since then. I didn’t know what to do or what to say to her standing there, the scene spoke for itself. I was the asshole of all assholes, the scum of all scum, whatever else you could think of to describe the worst human on the planet. I deserved every single thing she said to me and more. It was at that moment, however, that I knew for sure that she was indeed my soulmate, that I needed her in my life forever. I had never known that I could feel pain and agony so intense until I saw the horrific look of abandonment and disgust in her eyes. I tried to stop her but that was impossible. She flew out of my house and out of my life as I sat naked on my bed with some meaningless fuck huddled on the floor next to my bed. And that was the moment that everything changed.
I knew that I needed to get my life together so that if I ever had the chance again to get her back in my life, I could be the man she deserved. The very next day I went to the tattoo parlor and had my butterfly put on my forearm. The new addition to her calf had not gone unnoticed during her short-lived visit and despite everything else, it had thrilled me to know that she had gotten my design permanently inked onto her body. From the tattoo parlor, I went directly to the jewelry store. I wanted to be completely prepared to show her the degree of my love and dedication if I ever got another chance. I looked at the ring every night before going to bed and prayed to any and every God out there to bring her back.