Drop Dead | Sam Fender

Chapter One Hundred and Two

Sam

My debut album, Drop Dead is out now!!

I stared down at my phone unable to breathe. The image of Rory on her album cover, staring back at me and looking as beautiful as she always did had thrown me. I had isolated myself for the last month after a flurry of song inspiration hit me. I had written something I was actually proud of. It was even a debut single hopeful and enough to keep my mind off the one person it always seemed to be on but after a rare day off and a quick scroll through Instagram, my attention was immediately brought back to her. It was ironic how the universe worked, clearly still wanting to punish me for my wrongdoings.

It was the least I deserved.

I don't know how long my eyes remained glued to the screen, haunted by the twinkling blue eyes that I had fallen in love with; that I was still in love with. There was a war going on inside my head. Would I listen to the album or not?

My curiosity was begging me to, desperate to know the inner workings of her brain and her feelings on the subject matter. My heart just wanted to know one thing - was she still as torn up as I was?

There was a part of me that didn't want to. The pain I felt when I listened to Love ain't meant to hurt for the first time was like a punch to the gut but I didn't learn the first time or the second or the third. Curiosity always won and I learnt each time that it was true what they said, it really did kill the cat and there was no satisfaction to bring it back.

My lips pulled into a tight line as I exited the application and pulled up Spotify. I knew I would come to regret it but clicking the play button, I couldn't bring myself to care. The sound of a piano melody flooded my ears, my breath being knocked from my lungs as I recognised the tune as one Rory had been playing around with back in February last year, just a couple of weeks after the incident. I hadn't heard any lyrics at the time, just purely melody at the time but I couldn't help the nagging feeling that she had written it then and if she had then I was about to learn her thoughts on our relationship at the time.

Called you on the phone today, just to ask you how you were. All I did was speak normally, somehow I still struck a nerve.

The sound of her voice reverberated around my room in the only way it ever would again, by her music through my phone. I swallowed down the lump that formed in the back of my throat as my thoughts took me back to her birthday a couple of years ago now. The day I got fired for the first time; the day before I broke her heart. I was forced to replay the conversation we had over the phone when I snapped at her about suffocating me. All she wanted was to know I was alright, concerned for me like she always was.

The lyric that struck me the hardest found its home in the chorus.

I'm the love of your life until I make you mad.

It hit me like a slap to the face because I knew how true it was and as the first song came to a close, I had to pause the music to regain my composure. The next song, Friendly Fire played, the lyrics reminding me of Falling Asleep at the Wheel. It made my stomach churn hearing her admit how we had a shelf life and she was doubting if she was going to stay.

It was deja vu as the songs passed, the same guilty feeling manifesting itself deep in my chest as her painfully true words rang in my ears. Flashbacks of the day my world ended haunted my thoughts as Scarlett played. If it hadn't stung so much, I probably would have admitted that her turning my poisonous words into song lyrics was genius but it only served to remind me of how harsh I had been to the one person who put up with my shit.

Replays in my head of all the things you said, I know you're lying in someone else's bed.

As I heard the words, my hands twitched towards my phone. I was desperate to text her, call her, anything to tell her that she was wrong. How could she believe that there would anyone else but her? I would be the first to admit that yes, I hurt her, I had been a shitty boyfriend and hadn't treated her the way she deserved to be treated but I always knew that it was her. She was my other half, she always would be, even if she didn't want to be; if she couldn't be.

And as each song played, I was reminded why that was the case.

I hate that I waited all night for a conversation that you had to beg me to have. Being stood up hurts double when it took me a week to agree that I'd call you back. You always say sorry then fuck up as bad, so why am I giving you chances to mend something we never really had.

My eyes fluttered shut as I recalled the short breakup we had after I confronted Rory about her eating disorder. She had ignored me for a week, completely isolating herself from our friends and when she finally answered my phone calls and agreed to meet me, I spent my night getting drunk instead. I remembered the overwhelming sense of guilt I felt the morning after as I listened to the voicemails she had left, crying as she asked woefully where I was.

As the last song came to an end, I allowed myself to pull my messages up and send a text message with a tugging feeling in my chest.