This One is For You

Chapter Twenty-Four

Hudson

I wake with a metallic taste in my mouth. The tiny bus bedroom spins as it comes into focus and a searing migraine settles behind my eyes.

I lie still for a moment, gauging the damage I did last night. My hand feels stiff, and I'd put a bet in on it being bruised and bloody. My ribs ache with my slight movement, and I know when I fully sit up, they'll be in even more pain. I might've even broken one.

With a groan I sit up, and with less than a minute awake, I remember why I drank myself into oblivion.

Josie.

The phone call.

The entire bottle of vodka to myself.

The fight in the bar.

Then, blackness.

I look down at my knuckles, seeing exactly what I thought I would. At my feet in the floor are my shoes and phone that now has a broken screen thanks to my antics.

I stumble up and towards the front of the bus. No one else is awake yet. I see my bandmates all sprawled out.

When I spot a pack of cigarettes and a lighter on the table, I grab both and head outside.

The nicotine makes my head feel better.

Even though its spring, the chill of the morning still nips at me.

I feel dead inside. I remember last night in glimpses, but I remember. I know I called Josie's phone at least fifty times. I damn near demanded they turn the bus around and let me go get her, but something held me back.

She's a fucking coward. Waiting until I was gone to break things off instead of doing it do my face.

Fuck her.

She hugged me goodbye yesterday, knowing the entire time she didn't want to be with me.

"You okay, man?" Dave, the bassist of my live band, comes out of the bus.

"I'm fine." I grumble, taking a long drag.

"You had us worried last night, man. You started drinking, drinking. Don't get me wrong, you're not a scrawny dude, but I can't believe you drank that much and survived. You aren't that big, man."

"Yeah."

"And you punched the fucking bouncer! I thought all our asses were going to jail."

Shit. I remember fighting someone, but the bouncer?

Anger fizzles in my veins, and I crush the cigarette in my palm before dropping it onto the ground. I don't say another word to Dave as I walk back onto the bus.

I'm not in the mood for chitchat.

I lie back down onto the bed, rubbing at my burning eyes.

This hurts so fucking bad.

I'm confused.

I thought Josie was happy. I thought she loved me.

Then, there's the text she sent a few minutes after she broke up with me. Salt to the wound.

You were never going to be enough for me.

Why would she say some shit like that?

I was good to her. I treated her like a queen.

I don't get it.

I'd bought her a fucking engagement ring. How pathetic am I? Was I really that blind?