Cacophony (PAUSED FOR EDITING AND UPDATES)

17: f e r r i v o r o u s

In my heart I will hold what my bloody hands have dropped.

  Sydney stared listlessly out the window of Adam's car as they made their way south on I5. She couldn't believe she had left Seattle, not that she'd had any choice. Adam dropped the bomb that he had sold Sydney's truck while she'd been away, and she had been irate. All of her father's tapes had been in that truck. The anger was enough that she had tried to leave again, deciding that she didn't care what Adam did in retaliation. However that's when he had grabbed her, and for the first time ever she felt the cold metal of a knife as he pressed it to her throat.
"Try to leave again, doll, I dare you. I wasn't kidding when I said I wouldn't let anyone else have you."
It had all gotten very, very real after that. She knew that she needed a plan, and a damn good one. At the moment though, all she could focus on was the ringing in her ears and keeping her tears at bay. For someone who never cried, it seemed like that was all she was capable of lately. Chris was on her mind constantly. What would he think? Would he know that she would never have left him if she'd had the choice? None of this was okay, and she was worried... about herself of course, but mostly about Chris. He had lost Andy, and now she was gone too.
  The day before, Adam's parents had come by to see them off. They completely ignored Sydney's swollen, scabbed lip, going on and on about how happy they were for this fresh start they were getting. Sydney had said nothing, unable to trust what might have come out of her mouth.
She still had barely said a word, and they were now in the second day of their journey south. She was holding so much pain inside of her that she didn't know how to process. She'd just lost everyone she cared about. Andy had passed away in front of her eyes only two weeks ago. There was the uncertainty of whether or not she would ever see Chris again. That alone was too much to bear.
"We're almost there, doll. Excited?"
Adam's voice broke through her thoughts, his hand reaching over to squeeze her knee.
"Yeah."
She knew her dull repose wasn't lost on him, yet it just made his smile bigger. He enjoyed having this power over her, and she had practically gifted it to him on a silver platter. Looking back out the window, she dug her thumbnail into the exposed skin of her thigh through the hole in her jeans. That's where she focused all of her attention, focusing hard so that she wouldn't lose her mind.

***

  Chris blew cigarette smoke into the crisp morning air. He hadn't been able to sleep again, so he had been up going through his things. He was ready to be out of this house, leaving the reminders of all the good things he had lost behind. Putting the butt out in the concrete on the front step, he went back in the house and into his room. The radio was still on, and he started grabbing things off of the shelves on the wall. These shelves had become cluttered beyond belief with how busy he'd been... and how depressed he'd been.
  After a few minutes, Sinéad O'Conner's cover of Nothing Compares 2 U started playing on the radio.  Chris turned it off, yanking the power cord from the wall and tossing the radio into a nearby box. Not only had that song been playing on the little motel tv after he'd found out about Andy's overdose, but it made him think of Sydney. He already couldn't get her off his mind... there was no need for extra reminders that she was gone. He never got a break from thinking about her, and about Andy. At least with Andy he'd gotten some sort of closure. Sydney had essentially disappeared. The only goodbye she had provided anyone was a typed out and much too formal letter sent to Susan's office.
  That day Susan had called him to ask if he had heard from her still replayed in his head constantly. He hadn't believed it, having only talked to her four days before. The last thing she had said to him was that she loved him and she would see him soon. In four days time, how could so much have changed? The week that she had spent at his house had really meant something to him. It wasn't romantic, or sexual... but it had meant something. How had he misread things so badly to not even realize that she wanted to leave? Sure... she had been tired and stressed, doing her best to hide it while on tour. Yet he thought for sure she would have come to him if she wasn't happy.
  Her letter said that the pressures of touring so often weren't compatible with the goals she had for her future. Whenever Sydney had talked with Chris about the future, she had always made it seem like that future included him in it still somehow.
  Susan had been almost as shocked as Chris that she had left. Sydney had always seemed so sure of how badly she wanted to see Soundgarden be happy and successful. Kim and Matt were both upset as well. She was like a sister to them, and they had grown to trust her and be at home in her company. She was the one who made sure they went on stage every night and didn't have to worry about a damn thing except doing what they loved. She was Kim's video game partner and the only one who wouldn't back down from a lengthy debate about literally anything. Matt and her were secretly notorious for hustling the others when they played poker, one of them almost always winning the pot of whatever snacks and random items had been tossed in. Sydney had the best poker face he'd ever seen.
  Finishing the shelves, though they needed a good dusting, he moved over to his nightstand and pulled open the drawer. After a quick rifle through it's contents, he pulled out the disposable camera he had taken on their last tour through Europe. He remembered the photos he had taken... and one photo in particular.
  He rose to his feet, finding his keys and his wallet and climbed in to his truck with Bill. He drove to the nearest drugstore and dropped the camera off, taking a very long walk with his dog before returning a few hours later to see if it was finished being developed. When the lady handed him the white envelope with his name on it, he couldn't even speak to thank her. He walked silently back to his car and sat there with it in his hands for a moment, trying to steady his racing heart. Flipping the envelope open, he swapped through the few pictures he had taken. It didn't take long to find the one he was looking for.
  Pulling out the photograph, he let the rest fall onto the passenger seat. There she was. Her hair was a chorus of golden blonde hues, illuminated by the sun shining through stained glass windows high above her head. Her face was tilted up toward them, gazing at her surroundings with a glint of wonder in her eyes.
He missed her so bad that it hurt. His insides ached, sharp and hot. It was so overwhelming at times that he couldn't breathe, and he felt himself careening fast toward that precipice. A tear rolled down his cheek and he wiped at it, sniffing and shaking his head. It still didn't make sense how she could leave without telling him goodbye. Was it his fault? He knew that he drove her crazy sometimes, and sometimes he wasn't the easiest person to tolerate... but he really thought that he meant more to her than that.
"Guess I was wrong." Chris muttered to Bill, who laid his head on his shoulder.