Siete:
Ashley was lying on his back in his bunk, looking through his twitter messages when I entered the room. I climbed into his bunk and lay down beside him. “Hi.” His eyes flickered towards me, but he said nothing. He continued to scroll through his messages, content with ignoring me. “Ash? Hello?” I waved my hand in his face only to receive a glare.
“Don’t you have a date with a razorblade somewhere,” he hissed.
“Ashley,” I hissed. His words hurt and stung sharper than any razor could.
“I’m sorry, I’m not jumping for joy at your presence, but I just learned that you’ve been lying to me. You said you would quit, that you would try for me. And I had to find out, during an interview, that you’re still an active cutter.”
I looked down at the bed cover.
“Oh, don’t act ashamed now, you looked pretty damn proud when you were showing off your scars, Lex. So cut the bullshit!”
I bit my lip to keep from sobbing. I nodded my head and carefully got up from his bed before going to lie in my bunk. I closed the curtain and curled up into a ball. I closed my eyes as I buried my face into my pillow. I bit down hard on my bottom lip, drawing blood, and cried silently into my pillow. I just wanted to break down into sobs, but I couldn’t. Ashley was right there. My fingernails dug into the palms of my hands and I took in deep breaths through my nose. Why does everything always turn to shit for me? Why am I such a fuck up?
~****~
It’s been about three weeks since I last talked to Ashley. Everyone can feel the tension, but they don’t say anything. Ashley is back to his old self, flirting with women all the time…and ignoring me. He doesn’t even look in my direction, and he doesn’t stand side stage to watch me sing anymore either.
Today we have a show. I just want to curl up and die, but I can’t. I get myself ready and don’t even bother really with makeup. I follow my boys out of the bus and try to smile for the fans. At least the fans understood. I got letters all the time from fans who told me I was an inspiration to them and that I’ve given them courage to keep living. You can imagine my shock at that. The walls of my bunk are covered in fan letters, drawings, and my bed is covered in stuffed animals.
I smile out to the crowd. We gave them a great show and held a surprise for the end. “So, uh we have a new cover for you guys,” I said breathlessly into the mic. The crowd cheered and someone held up a sign that said they loved me. “I love you too,” I chuckled as I pointed them out. “This here is Hurt,” I said into the mic.
Tom’s acoustic guitar began the opening part as I sang a rendition of Johnny Cash’s cover. The stadium grows quiet as my voice floats over them and through the air. I can feel tears streaming down my face as I close my eyes and think of the people I have hurt. I’ve hurt Tom, JP, and Josh, and yet they’re still here. I’ve hurt Andy, Jinxx, CC, and Jake, and yet they’re still here…I’ve also hurt Ashley…and I pushed him away.
I turn to look at Tom and he nods his head in the direction of side stage. I turn my head to see Ashley standing there with BVB. He’s staring intently at me, his eyes don’t move from my face, and mine don’t move from his. I have sung the final verse, and suddenly the ghostly stadium comes alive with cheers and clapping. I forgot I was singing for the fans. I had done this for him. I tear my eyes away and smile sadly at the fans before waving to them. Tom comes over and hugs me and rubs my back soothingly before walking me towards side stage.
I am still silently crying as I walked past Ashley. He doesn’t say anything; just stares at me with this heartbroken look on his face.
~****~
We have a lag in the tour and are given a week to relax and recuperate. I’m sitting in my hotel room strumming away at my guitar trying to write a song. I have this guitar riff stuck in my head but every time I go to play it I mess it up. “Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!” I shout.
I hear someone chuckle and clutch at my heart as I looked up in surprise at Ashley. He’s wearing a pair of black jeans and his boots. There’s a bandana tied into his hair and he has on minimal makeup. “What are you doing here?” I ask.
He toes the carpet, shyly, and glances at me. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Um, okay,” I replied questioningly. It’s been a week and half since I sang that song for him and all he’s done is stare at me. I motioned for him to take a seat and watched him warily as he crossed the room and sat down on the bed beside me. It’s quiet for a few minutes as he sits there staring at the floor. I can’t say anything either. I don’t know what to say, really.
“Lex?”
“Hmm?”
I don’t get an answer.
Let me rephrase that. I don’t get an answer in the form of words. My guitar slides to the floor as Ashley’s lips mold to mine and he pushes me onto the bed. I wrap my scarred arms around his neck and smile against his lips as my fingers thread through is hair and his arms wrap tightly around my waist. I let out a breathy moan and blush at Ashley’s throaty chuckle. This carries on for a little while longer. Ashley’s hand brushes against my side and slowly inches underneath my shirt as he pulls it up.
I break the kiss and pull my shirt down, feeling self-conscious. Ashley makes me look at him and kisses me softly before smiling. “I’m sorry for what I said,” he whispers. I close my eyes at the memory. “I don’t want you to hide your scars.”
“What made you change your mind,” I ask breathlessly.
“Because it’s not just your scars you hide,” he whispers. I open my eyes to stare into his chocolate ones and nod my head. He slowly pulls my shirt over my head, and like before, goes over every scar and cut. I’m no longer bruised but my skin is not flawless. I’ve been beaten, cut, stabbed, and broken, and my body was a constant reminder of that.
Ashley softly kisses me as I wrap my arms around his neck once more and allow him to deepen the kiss.