(Beca's POV)
She wanted me to leave her alone. So I am.
I am leaving her completely alone.
And so now, I am alone.
I have been pouring all the time I have into work. Listening to demos, recording with new bands, recording my own vocals, making mixes, anything to keep my mind off of Chloe.
Of course that didn't work.
Neither has the booze or the drugs.
I haven't had sex with anyone. I don't want anyone but Chloe. I don't know why I ever even tried to find a substitute for the red head. No one compares to her.
Instead, I just found new drugs. Weed, cocaine, and pain killers just wasn't working as well as it used to. But if you use heroin every now and again, you get a nice feel. I seem to be getting my best inspiration when I use heroin. Sure it hurts at first, but you get use to it. Besides, I could nearly die in a car accident, or get stung by a swarm of wasps, nothing would be as painful as the feeling I have in my chest right now.
I wanted to find Chloe. I wanted to kiss her, and make her feel better. I wanted to apologize and explain myself. But I kept telling myself I've hurt her enough in the past three years, and I don't need to continue. She needs time to calm down and if she wants me she'll call. And if she doesn't...
I just have to accept it.
I can't move on. I refuse to move on. Nothing will ever be, no one will ever be as good for me as Chloe is.
The best thing to ever happen and I fucked up.
I have a feeling I'm just not meant to have a good life. As if God is trying to say "Dude, I gave you your dream job, and a lot of money, doesn't that make up for your abusive father, horrible relationships, and failed marriage?"
No, dude, it doesn't.
I'd give everything up if it meant I could have Chloe again. I'd become a dress wearing, garden loving, stay at home mom if it meant I could have Chloe again. I'd remove all of my tattoos, get rid of my piercings, and never do anything with music ever again, if it meant I could have Chloe again.
I just wanted Chloe, any way that I could have her.
I was snapped out of my thoughts when the lead singer of the new band I was listening to called my name. "Ms. Mitchell? Are you okay?" The boy asked.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, I was thinking about something we could do with the album." I lied. All four of the boys faces lit up. "I'm not saying you're getting signed yet." I warned, and the boy's faces dropped just a little. "You guys are good, but I want to hear more. Play the song again, but change the last note to a C sharp, add some bass in the bridge, and Ricky, drum quieter. You over power the rest of the group. Don't play so hard."
---
I got home around three in the morning, made my way to my den, and poured myself a drink.
I checked my phone and found that I had three texts. All from the same person.
Aubrey: Chloe hasn't stopped crying.
Aubrey: Beca what the FUCK did you do?
Aubrey: Beca, I swear to God if you hurt her... She won't tell me anything.
I was about to put my phone away when a new text came in.
Aubrey: I'm coming over, you better be sober and ready to explain.
I sighed and took the last swig of scotch from my small glass. I put the bottle away, deciding to save getting drunk for when Aubrey leaves.
In just a few moments I hear knocks at my door and I open it, ready to yell at Aubrey, ready to tell her it wasn't all my fault, to tell her that I'm just doing what Chloe asked me to do. But as soon as I saw the blonde... I cracked. I grabbed her into my arms, shoving my head into her neck, and I let the tears fall. Aubrey was stunned. She didn't know what to do. "Come on Becs, lets get inside, the neighbors will stare." Aubrey pulled me inside and shut my door, pulling me to the living room. "Becs, what happened?"
