Drenched in Blood

I got to Skye’s. We sat on her bed. I didn’t know where to start.

“I take it your conversation with Courtney didn’t go well,” she said gently, coaxing without pushing.

“No… it didn’t.” I paused. “I did what I always do—made a decision for someone else because they were too afraid to.”

She raised an eyebrow, her tone colder than usual. “Is that really what happened? You don’t have to perform for me.”

I exhaled. She was right. I couldn’t hide here.

“I’m just trying to make what comes next easier—for her, for everyone. I’ve already made my decision. I’m leaving.”

She didn’t interrupt.

“I need to get EoT to a place where they don’t need me anymore. Where they won’t want me back after I’m gone. That’s what’s best.”

I didn’t know if that was the truth, or just a lie I kept telling myself so I could sleep.

“Are you okay with that?” she asked. “You’re running out of time. You can still change your mind.”

I looked at her, hollow. Hoping she’d say it for me—that it was okay to stay.

“Skye, I’m doing the right thing.”

She placed her hands over mine.

“I’m here for you no matter what you choose. But I’m not going to make this decision for you. That wouldn’t be fair—to either of us.”

We sat in silence. Almost an hour passed without a word.

“I’m not changing the plan,” I said finally. “But I should stop hurting Courtney. She deserves better. After everything… I can’t keep trampling her feelings just to make my exit easier.”

Skye gave a pained smile. “I’ll trust you. But you know that leaves the door cracked open again… and you’ll have to live with that.”

“I know. I have to be okay with it. If I go back, someday, it probably won’t end well.”

But if I could just be decent to her now—when the time came, the choice to move on would be hers.

I’d made my decision. But I still felt empty.

Skye shifted, trying to lift the mood. “Also, don’t worry about me… I have a tentative deal with Stan. I’m going to be part of your world.”

“Oh?”

“Chasing Ghosts drops tomorrow. Over the last few shows, he drafted a contract for me—I'll be a writer at R&R. It’s contingent on CG charting well, and it’s not reliable income, but… it’s something. It keeps me in this world.”

I blinked. “Wow. That’s… I’m glad Stan sees your potential.”

“There’s just one stipulation,” she added, coy. “After the second EoT album, I’m never allowed to write for them again.”

Of course. Stan had committed. I shouldn’t have been surprised—he wasn’t going to let me walk back my decision.

“That’s great, Skye. Is this what you want?”

She smiled. “Yeah, I think it is. I always wanted to be a social worker—to be the kind of woman I needed when I was younger.”

Her expression changed.

“But writing was always what I loved most. It was my way of exorcising everything I couldn’t say out loud. I never trusted therapists—not with my parents, not with the truth.”

She looked down, almost laughing.

“I never thought it could be my future. It felt too small. Too personal. Something only a scared girl would scribble in a notebook and then hide. So I told myself it was just a pastime.”

She looked back up at me.

“Then you and Maggie grabbed my hands and pulled me into your dream.”

Her voice trembled slightly.

“I’m terrified. For the first time, people around the world will hear something I wrote—my real, hidden self. But maybe someone out there needs it. And if it finds them… maybe that’s enough.”

“That makes sense… I never realized how deeply we understood each other.”

Maybe that was the crux of us.

That night, I wanted to take things farther. I didn’t understand why.

I told Skye to stab me with a small blade. I wanted to lose control for once, to put my life in her hands—even just a little bit.

She happily obliged.

I felt weird. The heightened rate of blood loss mixed with everything in me as we pushed our limits. My perception of reality was slipping, but it felt incredible.

At some point, we finished. It was the most intense sensation of my life.

Luckily, the bleeding had slowed enough for aftercare—no emergency.

“Skye—I love you.”

She laughed, “It would be concerning if you didn’t, but I love you too.”

“It’s not that funny,” I joked.

“Wes… I just stabbed you—with consent. That’s not exactly normal.”

I guess it wasn’t. But what was normal about anything with us?

***

We woke up the next morning to hundreds of unread texts. From the first couple, I could tell that Chasing Ghosts was already taking off. It was difficult to digest the information while preparing for school.

“I guess people really like it,” Skye said. “People I barely talk to are texting me—I didn’t know that Jason had put the writing credits at the end of the music video.”

“He usually does that—I guess I forgot to mention it.”

There were so many messages to get through. Most of them were positive—even the same bloggers who buried us in 2012 were now calling us the next great rock band. Said A House of Cards was a fluke, but this proved otherwise. Fucking parasites.

Jason’s texts were more muted. He thought the campaign was great, that we were getting great support from radio, TV, and streaming—that it was probably going to debut in the top-5 on the Hot 100.

This was the dream—to become an overnight sensation.

I didn’t want to talk to anyone at school. I had become so disconnected from it and the people there. I had everyone I needed with Skye, Maggie, and Courtney.

“Congrats—the new song’s amazing,” Julia said as we passed.

I gave a half-smile. “Thanks.”

I didn’t forget about Julia. She was just moving on with her life.

“Also, Skye—I didn’t know you still wrote. I’m happy that you’re finally sharing it with people.”

This stung Skye—you could see the pain in her eyes.

“Yeah… I’m finally feeling—confident.”

We went our separate ways after this on the way to class. We wouldn’t see each other again for the rest of the school day.

During third period, I had my first crossover with Courtney and Maggie for the day.

“I’m surprised how popular Chasing Ghosts is already,” Courtney said.

“Same,” I said quietly.

“Who are you guys kidding? We all knew that this song, with a major label backing it, was a lottery ticket,” Maggie added sarcastically.

“Just let me pretend,” Courtney said in a joking tone.

“Well, Wes, you guys did it—you’ve made your statement.”

“Yeah, I guess we did, Maggie.”

The nostalgia was overbearing. When was the last time the three of us just talked?

“Thanks, guys,” I said, fighting off tears.

“Man, if the younger version of you knew you’d cry over success, he’d be so disappointed,” Maggie ribbed.

“I know,” I laughed through the tears.

I couldn’t tell her that I was crying over losing the bond we all once had.

We settled into class properly.

The school day was a blur.

Teachers, more than students, were talking to me about EoT. The whole narrative of, “You’re just 16 and this will be your second top-10 hit.” It wasn’t imposter syndrome at this point. I was just—lost.

My first two years of high school were defined by teachers holding me to higher standards and questioning my decision making because of the band.

Now, those same people were telling me I had a gift and it was so inspiring. If these people ever saw how hard I worked to get here—the inferiority complex with Caleb, the countless hours of practice, the thousands of demos I threw in the trash—it doesn’t matter.

I just smiled through it. Agreeing with them. They’d ask if I was going to finish school.

I didn’t know—after the X-Mass tour it would be tenable to finish my senior year while we made the second album, but there was no way I could cut off our momentum for another year after that… I was also planning on quitting EoT around that point to go solo. So, I guess that decision wasn’t mine to make anymore.

At the end of the day, I found my way back to Skye—and eventually her place.

I got a call from Stan talking about how well we were doing, and how excited he was for the tour. He invited Skye and me as guests to Heavy Tulsa.

“Wes, I know it sounds weird after not adding EoT to the bill, but I want you and the misses there.”

Misses?

“We can make it out next weekend, but why?”

“There are a lot of reasons for your career. X-Mass is headlining, so I’d like you to play a song with them ahead of your tour to sell more tickets. I want you to play a couple of songs in the all-star jam as well. I also want to put you and Skye in front of bands you’ll both be writing for.”

“Both?”

“Wes, I know how many demos you have—even as a solo artist, you have enough in your scrap pile already for the next decade. If we can replicate mass manufactured versions of the Chasing Ghosts dynamic for the next fifteen years, we’ll make so much fucking money.”

“I’ll talk to Skye’s parents—but we’ll be there.”

We hung up.

The Largents were surprised that we were getting the red carpet treatment from the president of R&R records, but they also didn’t understand what was going on with the band. They reluctantly gave Skye permission after talking about what it meant for her career.

The band wasn’t happy. But no one dared question Stan—not when the label was finally happy with us.