Famous musician, Cory Hartley, has plans to end his own life. When rekindling an old flame that never died, Cory finds himself at a crossroads, as he copes with the traumatic death of his best friend. Forced to face the past that's haunted him for a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
-§§§-
Stopping by the bar to talk to Gretchen and de-escalating Cory's unexpected meltdown in the middle of a highway had set Alida back. She lost more time than she had thought.
She took a detour, making her way down the winding mountain road shaded by bright green sugar maple trees.
The silence was deafening, causing Cory to replay the events that just occurred. He couldn't shake the embarrassment—the humiliating vulnerability of his actions. Mostly, though, Cory couldn't stand the way he reacted to Alida's kind gesture; snapping at her with such cruel words because of that fucking voice.
Cory turned on the radio, flipping through stations. Most were static, only a few coming through the surrounding mountains. Poison's "Nothin' But A GoodTime" played clearly, along with coverage of a local sports game. Then, Cory Hartley's own voice, "Take Your Time" sounded through the speakers so intelligible it made him sick.
Cory quickly turned off the sound system, biting his lip as he stared over the ledge just over the guardrail.
"I'm sorry," Cory spoke, "for everything. What I said back there, the way I acted... it snuck up on me. I haven't been by there in years—not since it happened."
Alida couldn't help but to feel immense relief upon hearing Cory's apology. There was too much tension in the small car for Alida to cope.
"It's okay," Alida said, "you ran off right after it happened. You never faced Aidan's death—you never got to grieve the right way." She looked to Cory to see his expression was stern. He sat looking ahead, chewing vigorously on his bottom lip. "I know you don't wanna hear this but... that's what happens when you run away for ten years and come back and have to face it. It's hard—I can only imagine."
Cory saw Aidan's face. That disappointed, infuriating look in his icy stare. His face illuminated in red from the traffic light hanging above them. He saw his mouth moving to the silent sound of his last words—brilliant white light Cory could swear appearing out of thin air engulfing the back of his head.
That same unsettling cold sensation began sinking into the pit of Cory's stomach. He needed a distraction.
"How did you deal with it?" Cory asked, his voice slightly trembling. He cleared his throat, trying to seem ordinarily content about the distressing topic.
Alida looked to Cory in disbelief, letting a chuckling scoff escape her throat, "I haven't."
The truth was, Alida was angry at Aidan. She could almost say that she hated him. However, she also loved him.
He was her brother, and at some point in their short life as siblings, he had also been her best friend. Coming to terms with her own anger at him was more difficult than forgiving the death of him—that was something Alida was still working on.
