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May 2019

Normally as I drove to the familiar apartment complex, through the back streets of Nashville I was filled with  a sense of calm and anticipation. It was usually preceded by months on the road, in random hotel rooms and uncomfortable tour bus bunks. This time it was filled with a sense of dread and apprehension. He would have usually been the one in my passenger seat, fiddling with the radio dials with his window rolled down. Now I was on my way without him praying that he wasn't there as my Jeep was filled with silence.

I bided my time in my usually parking space as I looked over at his trusty (and rusty) ole truck, he refused to upgrade. Its almost like I could hear him telling me, "I've had it since I learned how to drive. If it aint broke don't fix it, baby."

I took a few deep breaths before hopping out of my Jeep and making my way into the old, converted warehouse. I would usually rush into the elevator, anxious to get to the giant comfy bed I usually was missing, but this time I took the stairs, slowly hoping like hell that he wasn't on the other side of the door. I unlocked the door as quietly as possible and made my way into the open area living room. It looked like a hurricane had blown through the whole loft. Pizza boxes and beer bottles were littered all around. There was no sign of Ryan and I was hoping that it meant he was out for the afternoon. As I crept into the bedroom, I was greeted by the sight of Ryan spread across the bed in his boxers, more empty bottles and glasses perched on the nightstand.

As quietly as I could I grabbed the suitcase out of the closet and quickly started throwing in my clothes. There was no time to fold and organize, I didn't know when he would wake up and the last thing, I wanted to spend my day doing was dealing with the inevitable shit storm that is, or well, was our relationship. I was just finishing when he started to stir. I hurried and zipped up the suitcase to try and sneak out before he realized I was there. "Ol? That you, baby?"

"I was just getting some clothes, I'll come back for more stuff later when I found a place."

"Stop, will you just wait and talk to me? We can work this out." He slurred as he stumbled out of bed. I wasn't sure if it was because he was just waking up or was still drunk. Both probably, if I'm being honest.

"I'm tired of trying to work it out Ry. Every time I try and talk to you about it you say you're going to change. And you do for a day, a week if I'm lucky but then you go right back to the same old shit. I went through this with my dad already, I don't want to go through it with you too. If me leaving is what it takes for you to wake up and get better, then I really hope it happens."

"You can't just leave me. We're under a contract."

"We're under a contract to make music, and one that's almost over. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. I can hide in the studio like I always wanted, and you can be the star of the show you always were." I watched him stumble around before coming after me as I quickly grabbed my bag and made a bee line for the door.

"You lied," he yelled after me, "You said you loved me, and you swore that we would always be a team. You don't leave someone if you love them Molly. Seems a bit counter productive if you ask me." He finished as I stood at the door while his words sank in.

"I'm leaving because I love you. You need to figure out what you want, and you need to get better. I am not going to sit around and watch you kill yourself."

I slammed the door and rushed into the elevator leaving Ryan shouting after me, no doubt trying to find some pants to throw on in the mess scattered around on the floor. I slid down to the floor of the lift as it carried me down to the lobby. This is exactly what I had been trying to avoid, everyone had told me he'd be at the studio. They were supposed to be writing today.

I threw my suitcase into the backseat and made my way to the studio. I grabbed my guitar and made my way to the room that our whole little family always occupied, passing by the receptionist with a wave.

I looked at the little family we created when I moved to Nashville sitting around the small studio room. Tori, with her drumsticks, Jude with his guitar on his lap and a notebook on the table in between him and Greg while Lex and Shann were at the mix board with headphones on.

"I know that you're waiting for Ryan...but I don't think he's coming right now...I have some lyrics, I would like to work on," I said wiping at the tears I was trying to fight back.

Greg put his guitar to the side and walked over to me and pulled me into his arms, "You wanna talk?" He asked me quietly as he rubbed my back.

"No. I just want to write." I sniffled while wiping away the smeared eyeliner.

"That settles it then," Jude called from his chair across the room. "Let's write, maybe we can actually get something together worth recording."

I went over to the couch with Tori, as she tapped away at the table with her sticks. She nudged my knee with hers as I took out my guitar.

"Hey, I'm not on his side with this okay? I'm not on anybody's side. He may be blood family, but I chose you to be part of my family."

I looked over at her, into the eyes of Ryan's cousin, who may as well be his twin sister from all the physical traits they shared.

"I know. I wouldn't blame you though if you picked his side. I would actually feel a little better knowing that someone is there looking after him."

"Listen, you're not in the wrong, and I am looking after him...I just think that he needs to sort his issues out on his own. And when he's ready for help, with anything, then I'll be there. Just like you have always been there for all of us." Tori said nudging me with her shoulder.

"Alright ladies, we gonna write or what?"