Chapter 15
**Emory's POV**
I get up and walk away, spitting the sand out of my mouth. I nearly trip and fall over a branch in the parking lot and it annoys me even more. My phone is dead and I have no idea what time it must be, but I know we missed our meeting and my father is about to chew my head off.
Harry follows closely behind me, picking up the blanket I left on the sand. I quickly unlock the car doors and sit down, starting the car. The clock reads 12:32 so unfortunately, the meeting was three hours ago. I start to back up and evade the situation when Harry pulls on my door handle before I can escape. I roll my eyes and open the door for him to get in. I can't just leave him here - that would be a dick move...
I'm not annoyed with him. I can't be. After what he did for me yesterday there's no way I can be upset. I'm annoyed with myself and he just happens to be the nearest person to me right now. Also because how the fuck did I fall asleep in the middle of a beach? I let him too close last night. I was too vulnerable. There are just some things that only some people need to know. I know it's a little different considering that he literally walked in on the situation and I felt like I should give him a bit of context, but he has enough going on without having to worry about me. I hate being a burden to people I care about. This is slightly upsetting because I was starting to maybe consider us... friends? But now I feel like I have to push him away. I can't damage him too.
I was too lost in my head to realize that I was speeding. Harry didn't say anything, sensing the tension, but his face was getting slightly paler every second that I was pushing over 100. I guess I read him wrong, maybe he isn't the daredevil I anticipated. Either way, I slow down a little, not wanting to add a speeding ticket to this already off-kilter morning.
I go up the highway, back to where he lives. The car ride remains pretty silent. I usually hate that, but right now I prefer it. I am beginning to realize that I probably overreacted to seeing him this morning, but waking up on a beach, cuddled into a warm body with a heavy-ass arm draped over you was startling. I know neither of us intended to end up that way so I can't fault him- I was just surprised.
I can see that he keeps looking over at me, probably expecting me to say something, but I don't really have anything to say. I have cooled off. I'm not upset. It's just been a long night and I don't have it in me to strike up a conversation. I want to just be at home.
As I approach his driveway, he breaks the silence. I was just hoping he'd get out and we'd reconvene at a later date.
"Emory," he says, seriously, opening the car door.
"Harry," I say, mimicking his tone as I turn my head to look at him. He is halfway out of the car already, starting to step out. He puts one arm up on the top of the car, one on the door as he starts to shut it. He inhales before he speaks.
"Are you going to be okay?" He asks, sincerely.
His eyes were softening, his lips slightly parted, and the day-old scruff starting to show up on his top lip and jawline. I felt see-through.
Something in me wanted to tell him, no, I'm not okay, and run inside and tell him everything.
The sane part of me answered.
"I will be," I said back with a small smile.
He sighed and hung his head, only half-believing me, letting himself show more emotion than I'm sure he's comfortable with.
He shut the door, turned his back, and walked into the house that he seemingly left unlocked. I back out and get on my way home.
I turn on the radio, not particularly in the mood to search through my song library and just let the random music play in the background for the remainder of the drive. I can feel a breakdown coming on, but I want to be home first. I try with everything in me to keep the tears from falling in the car. I think there is definitely something aesthetic about crying in your car at night, but no unassuming bystander wants to be witness to snot bubbles on the 405 in broad daylight.
I never used to be a really emotional person. I thought it made me look weak. However, I think there became a point where as a writer, I got to know myself really well (to a certain extent), and with that, I started to understand my emotions a lot better. So now, I cry a lot. Either that or the trauma has altered my brain chemistry so much that crying is my default setting.
Of course, as I am driving, the radio station starts to play "Falling" and I had the overwhelming urge to run my car into the center divide, but I refrained. I turned the radio off as my lip started to quiver and willed my car to go as fast as it legally could.
I barely even let the car turn off before I ran inside my complex, unlocking my door and locking it behind me. I go to my cabinet to locate my pills and find what I need, taking a few just to calm myself down. I also grab a few of my honey cough drops that I eat like candy. They calm me down. Harry makes fun of me for them and says that if I wanted to suck on something then I can just stay at his house or buy some jolly ranchers, but I like how the honey soothes my throat. I chug some water, not realizing how thirsty I am, and strip down to nothing, needing to get in the shower.
Not only do I feel filthy just from the general sleeping in heaps of wet sand and seaweed, but I feel dirty.
I thought I might get used to this feeling, but I never did. The feeling of being used. Tarnished. Disgusting. No amount of scrubbing my skin or blazing hot water would ever remove the feeling of his hands on my skin. No amount of drugs would make me forget it. Back then, I thought it would go away, and for a while, it did. I didn't feel this way for a long time. Until he came back. Last night felt like a blur, my brain already doing the work for me, but I know that it will be years before my body recovers.
I sit in the shower, physically sitting naked on the floor. I know that I'm naked, but I feel so vulnerable. I feel raw. I feel like how I felt when Harry started asking me questions. I am mad at myself for answering him so openly, but I'm not mad that he asks. He makes me feel less guarded, and I don't know if I like it.
He always seems like he genuinely cares what I have to say, and I know he was upset about what happened.
But I can't let him care about me. Not like that. I am like a fucking hurricane and I rip through everyone I am close to and leave them with nothing. I am in shock that even Charlie is still around. I can't do that to him. I won't burden him. I am grateful for him, and the fact that he was there last night, but I'm not his problem. It's one thing to work with him, and another to ruin him.
I ruined my dad. I don't like to admit that, but it's true.
I ruined my mom. I don't know how I am to blame for her death but I am.
And I ruined myself.
I can't ruin him.
I sit in the shower until the water starts to get cold. I get out and dry off, putting on sweats and climbing into bed. It's almost 4 and I know that if I take a nap right now, I won't sleep tonight, but my eyes are heavy and I need to listen to my body. It's been an exhausting 24 hours. I can feel the pills start to kick in, letting myself feel more relaxed as my body sinks into the mattress.
The rest of the week was pretty low-key. I didn't talk to Harry much, he kinda gave me a week off. I don't want him to feel bad for me, but it does feel like having a break and not having to use my limited energy. I didn't do much this whole week. We did reschedule our meeting for Tuesday, but it was just me because Harry had another tour meeting. It was entirely unproductive having only one side of the brain there. I went grocery shopping, did some yoga, and wrote a little, but I feel like I have watched an entire year go by in the last 5 days. I haven't gotten so much as a text from Harry since he told me I didn't need to come to write if I didn't feel up to it. I'm glad, but now I am starting to feel restless.
It's a Friday night, I skipped dinner at my dad's last night out of sheer laziness. I rescheduled for Sunday. I felt really bad about missing it, but I couldn't go sit there and put on a pretend happy face this time. I think I will feel better about it in a few days.
I'm sitting on my couch, watching New Girl (a new development for me). It's almost 9 pm. I pick up my phone and throw around the idea of calling him. Harry and I got in a habit of calling each other at night, talking through ideas for the day. Now I don't know where we stand on that, considering we haven't spoken. As I put my phone down, it starts to buzz.
Interesting timing.
"Hello?" I answer
"I wasn't expecting you to pick up so fast" Harry chuckles
I smile.
"If you don't cut to the chase I'll hang up just as quickly" I joke back
"Come over," he states
I swallow hard. I didn't know what I was going to get out of this phone call but it definitely wasn't that.
"C-come over?" I stutter, confused
"Okay, get your mind out of the gutter, that's not what I meant" he laughs again, "I mean I feel like I've struck creative genius and I'm now declaring your week-long break over"
"My mind is not in the gutter, but when a boy calls you after sundown and the first words he says are "come over" by first thought isn't the most innocent," I say back to him
"Well, that's something we can definitely consider later. Right now I need you to bring your ass to my house so I can finish this song" he says suggestively
I did just say I'm getting restless. I think about it for a minute. I haven't been doing much of anything, and I've got nothing better to do anyway.
"Okay let me change and I'll head over" I decide, standing up
"See you," he says as he hangs up abruptly.
I go to my room and change out of my pajama set, putting on something comfortable if I'm going to be there all night, grabbing some extra stuff just in case. I don't anticipate spending the night or anything, but I like to be prepared.
I brush my teeth, put my hair in a pony, put some jewelry in so I don't look bald, and walk out the door.
I have no clue if this is a song we have been working on or a brand new one but a few weeks ago, I shared my note with him on my phone so he sees every one-liner I add. I spitefully added the one I wrote when we got in a fight and he mentioned he liked it so we'll see.
There's no traffic at 10 pm so I basically fly there. I get to his house, only his car in the drive. I park and get out, walking up the long walkway to his door. I jiggle the handle, it's unlocked. I walk in and he's sitting at the piano, playing a tune I am slightly familiar with.
He looks up and stops playing
"Finally," he says dramatically
I laugh
"Finally? You called me 20 minutes ago" I say back
"Right but I haven't seen you in 6 days I was running out of people to irritate," he says
I roll my eyes and walk over to plop myself on the couch.
"Okay einstein, show me what you have," I say as he turns back around
"Okay well, I stole what you had in the shared note," he says as he starts to play
"I figured as much" I chuckle, leaning into the cushions
"But I changed it a little. I have a lot of this finished, but I wanted to do final touches and a demo tonight" he says
My eyes go wide
"You want to do all of that tonight? That will literally keep us up until the morning" I say
"Well I have an itch, I can't ignore it now," he says, a matter of factly
"I mean I brought stuff in case I was here for a while but damn" I respond
"Don't worry, we won't be sleeping" he says with a wink.
I roll my eyes again, he's a dick.
"Okay so are you going to show me or not" I question, sitting up and propping my head up on my knees
He turns back around and starts playing some chords on the piano, in a steady rhythm. Then he stops and turns to face me again.
"I took what you wrote when you were pissed at me and I changed it just a little and added on to it. I have most of it written but if you feel like you need to add or tweak, tell me" he says again
"You don't have to explain it all to me, just play and if it sounds like shit I won't hold back," I tell him
He smiles and goes back to the piano.
He starts again with the steady chords, playing straight through
"I'm on the roof, you're in your airplane seat
I was nose-bleeding, looking for life out there
Reading your horoscope
You were just doing cocaine, in my kitchen, you never listen, I hope you're missing me by now
If I was a bluebird, I would fly to you
You'd be the spoon, dip you in honey so I could be sticking to you"
He played me the first verse and then stopped to look at me, eyes hopeful
"I like it a lot," I say, sitting down next to him. Our shoulders brush and I can feel my face start to involuntarily heat up.
"Where did you get the inspiration?" I ask
"Well, I took your lyrics and then I kinda put together like a couple of random things. I travel a lot so, airplane. I'm not sure where the bluebird lyric came from but you left an entire fucking bag of those damn honey jolly ranchers on my counter and I thought it would be... I don't know... cool I guess" He says, with a hint of insecurity in his tone.
I smile at him
"First of all, they aren't jolly ranchers, they are throat lozenges and they help calm me down just like your gum is comforting to you even though you smack in fucking in my ear 24/7" he starts to chuckle
"Second of all, I think it's really, really good. I want to hear the rest of it." I tell him honestly
He grins
"Okay, I still need to work on a chorus, but I can really see the direction I want to take it..." he says as I slightly check out
I watch him speak and fiddle with the keys on the piano, looking a little nervous. The last few weeks, even before the incident, whenever we would start to write, I started to see a softer side of him. He loved his work, and I could see that. He started to get excited for me to get there so we could start working. He would find joy in being creative.
It was very attractive.
I mean, he's still an asshole, and he irritates the living fucking daylight out of me, but there was definitely a different kind of light in him these days.
He is still talking, I watch the corners of his mouth curve up as he speaks, rambling about how he wants to have a driving guitar line, his hands speaking for him as he motions how he wants the synth to sound and the instrumental break in the bridge. His tone goes up and down as he describes the small details he wants to be added in. I'm captivated by him. He says he still doesn't know what to name the song and he doesn't know how he wants to phrase the chorus. I look at the way the strings of his black sweatshirt are tied in a small bow and he looks like he's freshly shaven. His anchor tattoo is popping out of his sleeve and again and you can see more of it every time he moves.
"Emory?" he asks
"Yeah?" I respond, breaking out of my trance
"Are you in?" he asks again, smirking, knowing I wasn't listening.
"I'm here, aren't I?" I say to him with a smile
At about 2 am we tried to finish the rest of the song, Harry locked me in the studio with his guitar for an hour until we figured out the guitar line that sounded perfect. He sat on the other side with his headphones on, just staring while I played. He had me sing lines from the song as well to put on the demo. I told him not even to think about putting me on the actual record and he promised he wouldn't, but I saw the red light on when I was doing the harmony parts. Once I exited the studio, we listened back to the guitar parts and he nearly ran a marathon out of excitement. I sat on the couch with my head in my hands trying to figure out some lyrics for the chorus, but I was drawing blanks. Harry was pacing back and forth and it looked like he was also in deep thought.
The bags under my eyes are turning into luggage as it nears 4 am. This time it was me on the other side of the room as he was trying to make an intro tune on his keyboard. He perfected it and then almost started throwing shit because we still haven't figured out a chorus. This night has felt like one of those movie montages where it flashes from productivity to nonsense every 10 seconds.
It's now reached nonsense again. Harry has resorted to laying with his head on the floor and his feet up on the couch and I have resorted to sitting on his coffee table, staring at him. He has his hands crossed behind his head as he stares at the ceiling and I'm about to fall asleep sitting up.
"I don't want the sun to come up," he says out of nowhere
I raise my eyebrows at him
"Why not?" I ask him
"Because I wanted to finish the song before the sun comes up, when the sun comes up, we've failed," he says
"We haven't failed. Rome wasn't built in a day. Aren't you the one who says 'I don't like to rush my art'" I say, mocking his accent
"Don't be a dick," he laughs. "I was just excited to hear this song when it was done and we don't even have finished lyrics" he continues on
"What about 'Daylight'?" I interrupt
"What?" he asks, confused, turning his body to look at me.
"To name the song. 'Daylight'" I say again
"Well, how would that tie into the song?" He says, I can see the gears in his brain turning.
"It wouldn't tie into the song yet, I guess, but it will tie into the situation," I say as I look out his large window. The sun is just barely coming up, the light hitting the waves beautifully.
He starts to hum the synth intro to the song
"Daylight" he sings and looks again to me again
"You got me cursing the daylight" He sits up and pauses
"Aint gonna sleep to the daylight" I sing, in the tune he was just humming.
He starts laughing. Partly because I think we've officially reached delirium.
"THAT'S IT" He yells
I've never seen a person with such a jolt of sudden energy. He starts running on the couch cushions, yelling and cheering like he just won the Superbowl.
I'm laughing too now, so hard my stomach hurts, losing it because I am so tired.
"WE DID IT" He screams again, barreling toward me like he's going to tackle me.
Instead, he picks me up and spins me, and then puts me down, basically throwing me back on the couch, going out of control. I was a little bit startled by his sudden movements that I stop laughing for a second. I can tell in his eyes he didn't really think about what he did before he did it. I can see a million emotions flash on his face at once, one being instant regret. But I'm not mad. I don't want him to feel bad. I start laughing again and reassure him it's okay and he starts going crazy again.
He takes off in a dead sprint to his studio room and presses the record button on his way in. He shuts the door and I sit there and watch, mixing the vocal levels. He is smiling the whole time, knowing we've just struck musical gold. When he's done, he waltzes out, letting me play through the demo as I start to mix. He's giddy, his body is practically shaking. I have never seen him act like this before in my life. I chalk it up to exhaustion.
We finish the final demo product at 7 am. I am nearly sleepwalking as Harry starts to make coffee. I am happy that we got it all done but sad that I'm going to lose a day of my life to sleep today.
I use the restroom to change into the other clothes that I brought, planning on going home soon. I brush my teeth and re-do my hair, looking like I got struck by lightning. I exit the bathroom, Harry has also changed into a white t-shirt and black Nike shorts. He sets out two coffee cups and starts to pour some. I was going to refuse because I was going to leave, but I felt bad saying no and then doing an unnecessary walk of shame out of the door.
I go and sit down on the couch as he brings the coffee over to the table.
"Thanks," I say as he sets the cup down in front of me.
I can't fall asleep here. I try to give myself a pep talk, I need to get off the couch. I can't close my eyes.
I closed my eyes.
I settle into the couch cushions behind me.
"Hey, Emory?" I hear Harry say somewhere in the distance
I cannot fall asleep here.
"Hmm?" I say, fading away
"Thank you," he says as I fall asleep.