Drop Dead | Sam Fender

Chapter One Hundred

Aurora

I groaned in frustration as I stared down at the piano in front of me. I was so close to finishing my album, yet so far. Scarlett had been released last month but the rest weren't going to be released for at least another three months at this rate. Helen told me that I needed at least another song before the whole thing could go through the process of being released and I was struggling.

Pretty much all of my songs so far were about him and I desperately wanted a change in pace but I couldn't write anything else. My writer's block was painfully frustrating. It was as though breakup songs were the only thing I was good at.

I already had a melody planned out for a song but no lyrics to accompany it and so, as I sat, fiddling with the ivory keys, I let my thoughts run wild. I replayed a conversation I had with Harlow back at the start of April. She had come to visit whilst I was at my aunt's house in South Shields and all I could do was ask how he was doing.

"How is he?" I asked meekly, afraid of her answer.

"Not good," she admitted reluctantly. I could tell she hadn't wanted to share the information with me but she knew that not knowing was driving me up the wall. I hadn't stopped worrying for the boy since we were in our early teens and our unamicable breakup hadn't put an end to that, no matter how intense it had been. "He's drinking all the time, fighting every Friday night. I..."

"Yer what?" I frowned, hating the way my stomach curled with dread. I could see the silent argument taking place in her head, able to read her eyes that stewed with conflict as she debated sharing her next bit of information with me. "Harlow."

Her eyes drifted shut as she let out a soft exhale, preparing herself for my reaction. "I caught him doing spice last week," she muttered, twiddling her thumbs as she desperately hoped I hadn't heard.

But I had. And it felt like all the air had been knocked from my lungs.

"This is all my fault," I murmured as tears pricked my eyes.

"No. Don't ya dare blame yourself," she told me sternly. "It's not your fault at all. He just needs time."

"It's been almost a year, Harls," I whispered.

"Yer know wor Sam," she smiled gently, either choosing to ignore the way I flinched at the mention of his name or not noticing the action. "He'll get over it when he's ready."

"But-"

"But nowt, pet," she interjected, resting her hand over mine comfortingly. "It's time yer took all that time and love ya spend on everyone else and spend it on yourself, alreet?"

"I've spent all my loving on somebody else. It's time I spent it on me. Ooh, baby," I sang as my fingers brushed the keys, the furrow of my brow deepening as I heard the lyrics out loud. It was a starting point but it definitely needed work. "I've been spending love on everybody else. No... I've been spending time on everybody else. It's time I did it for me. Ooh, baby."

"Sounds canny, lass."

My head snapped to the side, my eyes falling on my best friend standing in the doorway of the room, leaning against the frame.

"Dean?!" I exclaimed, jumping out of my seat and launching myself into his open arms. "What are yer doing here?"

"Well, Harls said ya was tryna write one more song for the album, so I thought I'd come lend a hand like. That, and the fact I've missed yer," he replied, his smile slowly widening as I parted from his embrace. "By the sounds of it though, yer don't need us."