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* p r e s e n t *

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* p r e s e n t *

Two days later, Griffin was set to be flying home to start school. After thinking about it for the entire two days straight, Harlow decided to fly home with him.

She knew she was letting everyone down, knew she was being irresponsible and ignoring her responsibilities, but she just couldn't do it. It wasn't the first time she and Jim had broken up, and she'd dealt with the other times just fine. Something about this time, though, had that unbearable sense of finality to it. The way he'd spoken to her that night in her bunk, the way he'd held her but been firm with his words and still left after a while, it just... she didn't see any coming back from it.

In reality, she knew everything he'd said was correct. Some fucked up part of her was still terrified of being completely committed to him, scared she'd fuck it up somehow. Neither of them particularly wanted kids, but she knew Jim wanted to get married. She knew he wanted to fully settle down, knew he wasn't a huge fan of just being boyfriend/girlfriend after so many years. He complained frequently that he felt stupid calling himself her boyfriend, and she always brushed it off.

In a lot of ways, she did sort of keep him at arms' length. She was stubborn, too fucking stubborn, and it had probably cost her the best thing that had ever happened to her. It was stupid, she was stupid. She was just so goddamn scared of losing him that she'd let him slip right through her fingers without even really realizing it.

•••••

Once back home, she got herself an apartment. Jim had told her she could stay at the house and she tried to, but everything everywhere she looked just reminded her of him and she couldn't take it. The place she rented was small, and she didn't really bother to furnish it much. She didn't feel like it really mattered.

She had no idea what she was going to do with her life now, now that it wasn't currently revolving around Slipknot. She missed every single one of the guys dearly, missing tour like it was a limb she'd chopped off. Often she considered going back, calling Corey and telling him she'd made a mistake, but she knew she had to try and figure out who the hell she was without Jim, and there was no way she was going to be able to do that while living beside him.

So, she got her shitty apartment. She got a job as a studio guitarist at a local studio. She breathed in and out every day trying to make it all fit together and work. Eventually, time started passing more easily. The days wore on and she talked to both Corey and Mick frequently, but forced herself not to call Jim no matter how much she wanted to.

She did everything she could to push him out of her head, to keep herself from dwelling on all the shit she'd done wrong. Someday, she wanted to talk to him about it, to apologize for all of the ways she'd fucked up. But until then, she just tried to live, just tried to keep herself steady.

•••••

Halfway through the tour, Corey came home for a week. The other guys did too, all of them spreading out and spending time with their families or whatnot. Harlow tried her best not to think about what Jim might be doing.

"This place is a shithole, 'Low," Corey told her as he walked into her apartment for the first time, using a nickname he'd had for her since they were kids. She laughed.

"Yeah, it is," she confirmed, shrugging. "I kind of needed a shithole to get my head on straight, I guess," she said, and he nodded.

"And is it?" he questioned, and she raised an eyebrow. "Is your head on straight?" he clarified, and she shrugged.

"I don't really know. It's only been a few months," she told him, knowing full well that he was going to ask her to come back onto the tour. Mick had already been asking her, telling her what a bad job Pat was doing on his own and how he'd ended up having to tech for himself sometimes, something that was immensely frustrating to a guy that hadn't ever really had to do that.

Corey could clearly tell that she'd known where his train of thought was going, so he derailed it.

"Would it make you feel better if I told you he's miserable? Because he's fucking miserable," he told her, and she smirked.

"It makes me feel a little better," she admitted, fully letting her mind flood with thoughts of Jim for the first time in a while.

"He's mopey as hell and hasn't really talked to anyone since you left. Not that anyone really wants to talk to him. Everyone's pissed at him. Sid keeps asking me if I think he should kill him in his sleep. I've been telling him no, but I can change my stance if you want," he said, making her laugh. Sid Wilson was Slipknot's DJ and also one of the most genuinely insane and wonderful people Harlow had ever known. She shook her head.

"Nah. Tell Sid I'll kill him in his sleep myself if he has to die," she told Corey, making him laugh with her.

A silence settled between them and for just a moment she thought maybe he wasn't actually going to ask, but of course he did eventually.

"Come back on tour, Harlow. I know everything's fucked up right now, but it would be good for you and you know it. That fucking band is your life just as much as it's mine, and if nothing else I want you close. I've hated not knowing how you were these past few months," he told her, and she sighed, shaking her head but still fully considering his words.

He was right, she'd honestly been miserable not being on tour. She missed the guys and the rumble of the bus underneath her immensely. She missed doing her actual job, the job she actually loved, instead of playing boring and bland guitar tracks in the studio.

"Fine," she said eventually, shrugging. "Fine. I'll come back," she told him, nodding. He smiled, pulling her into a hug.

"Mick's gonna kick your ass for leaving," he told her, laughing. She nodded.

"Oh believe me, he's already let me know that about a million times."

Say You'll Haunt Me • {Jim Root}Место, где живут истории. Откройте их для себя