Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
“Oh, ummm,” I say, not having expected there to be an exclusive guest list at the door. “Raleigh Stone. I am . . . was Axel’s—”
“Sister,” a burly man finishes for me as he steps closer, his eyes lingering on mine. He immediately scoops my hand into his big ones, holding it like he’ll never let go. “Raleigh, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. So terrible that it’s happened under these circumstances. Your brother was such a light in this world.”
I nod, and he continues. “My name is Lenny Davidson. I’m the head of—”
“Louder Records,” I say, noticing a bunch of suited men just behind him staring at me. This is the label, the men Axel worked his ass off to impress, and time and time again, he would succeed. Hell, I can’t even begin to imagine how much money the band must have made for these assholes.
“That’s correct,” he says. “Now, I understand that you grew up with the band, so we’ve made the arrangements for you to be seated with them. I hope that’s okay.”
“No,” I rush out, a sheer panic gripping me. “I’d prefer not to. I’ll be fine finding my own seat.”
“Oh, umm . . . okay. As you wish,” he says, probably not used to a young woman going out of her way to avoid the band. “We do have your father on our guest list. Would you prefer to be seated with him?”
Oh, hell no.
“He’s . . . he’s coming?” I ask, feeling my whole body begin to cramp up with fear. “Is he here?”
“I, uhhh . . . I don’t believe he has arrived,” Lenny says, glancing toward the woman with the clipboard to confirm. “He was invited, of course. However, I don’t believe we ever received a formal RSVP.”
I let out a shaky breath, doing what I can to keep a lid on my trauma. Saying goodbye to my best friend in the world while having to see Ezra for the first time in six years will be hard enough without seeing my father as well . . . no. I can’t. It’s too much.
“Right, okay. Ummmm . . . If it’s okay, I’d really prefer to sit on my own.”
“Of course,” he says with a nod. “Just let me know if there’s anything we can do for you.”
I force a smile and clutch my program as I step around him and make my way deeper into the church.
There are a lot of people here already, a sea of black suits and designer dresses, and as I start down the aisle and to the front of the church, I feel all their judgmental gazes on me, wondering who I am, why I’m so important to be able to walk all the way to the front in my cheap dress and heels, why the label went out of their way to talk to me.
Almost at the front, I lift my gaze and come to an abrupt stop.
The casket.
Holy shit.
There he is.
Tears well in my eyes, and as my hands tremble, I force myself to keep going until I’m standing right before it. I lay my shaky hand on top as the tears track down my face. The casket is closed. Apparently, his body was too messed up for easy recognition. I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t allowed the chance to see him, but a part of me is grateful. I don’t think I would have wanted to see him like that.
There’s a lot about Axel’s death I don’t know.
How it happened.
Where it happened.
Why it happened.
I’ve spent the past week desperate to get ahold of someone with answers, but after being hung up on and having my number blocked by multiple people assuming I was just a fan using my name to try and get unreleased information, I had no choice but to give up. A part of me has started to wonder if I’m ever going to get the answers I’m looking for, or if I’m just doomed to walk through life as a lost little girl.
Taking a heavy breath, I stare down at the closed casket. “I’m so sorry, Axel,” I whisper, feeling my voice begin to break. “I love you so much, and I know I didn’t tell you nearly enough, but you were my best friend, and even though you were far away, I always knew I could count on you to make everything better. I don’t know how to miss you, Ax.”
Needing to step back before I crumble right here at the front of the church in front of everyone who means something in the music industry, I let my hand fall away before inching back.
I turn to face the church, taking it all in, and as I gaze upon the many faces staring back at me, it becomes all too clear just how much Ax would have hated this. He wouldn’t have wanted some big fancy funeral in LA where the people he loved from back home would have had to dip into their savings just to afford the flight out here. He wouldn’t have wanted all the bullshit flowers and the big fancy church. He wouldn’t have wanted the screaming fans lingering outside.