Breaking Point

Chapter 42 // Jesse

[Greensboro, NC]

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a combination of brunette and teal hair.

It was odd. At some point during the night, I could have sworn that when I turned over and reached my arm out, nothingness greeted me. But I distinctly remembered falling asleep with my arm draped across Chantelle's stomach as she laid on her back. It felt like a split second where I'd waken up, but my eyes remained closed and I inadvertently fell back asleep before I could question the nothingness. And now I realised, after a moment's confusion, that I must have been alone during that point.

"Chantelle," I whispered, gently shaking her shoulder.

When she turned over, she had purple crescents marring the skin under her eyes, and I felt that flash of guilt for waking her up. But her hair concerned me. I knew that she had this hairstyle – dip dying her ends teal – during her troubled years as a teenager when she regularly drunk, smoked and hooked up with various guys.

So what the fuck happened last night for her to resort to this hairstyle again?

Yes, back during my initial two-year contract, Chantelle had dyed her ends blonde. But that was tame and she confessed she still felt amputated from that part of her life because it wasn't an outrageous colour and instead it was subtle. But then she removed the blonde. She said she wouldn't mind reverting back and dying her ends blonde, but she had never admitted she wanted to go teal again.

My decision to wake her up suddenly felt moot. I kissed her forehead before murmuring, "Go back to sleep."

She didn't reply. She must have already fallen back to sleep.

Knowing that now I was awake and my thoughts were preoccupied with Chantelle's abrupt appearance alteration, I threw the covers off me before beelining to the bathroom. I flicked the light on before my body paralysed. There was a small box of hair dye on the counter. Teal. And there were teal flecks in the sink. I glanced over my shoulder to Chantelle and she had her arm out in front of her where my body had been moments ago. Her blue-stained palm was visible to me.

She'd done this last night.

But how? Why? Where did she buy the hair dye from?

With a question now implanted in my mind, I made my way over to the counter to where we kept our hotel key. With a quick check, I could confirm my suspicion. They key was in a different place to where I'd left it when we settled into the room and went to bed. That meant Chantelle must have snuck out at like one, perhaps even two in the morning. For hair dye. What the fuck happened?

Quietly, I got ready. Chantelle was still asleep, her lips parted and her eyes twitching beneath her lids when I meandered downstairs for breakfast. Lewis greeted me, asking if I was excited for the concert. I nodded, mustering as much enthusiasm into my voice as I could. But my gaze found Preston who was hunched over his toast. Pauline was next to him, whispering something into his ear. He minimally nodded in response.