Fallen Angels (UNEDITED)

LXXXVI

Life is only as good as the memories we make
And I'm taking back what belongs to me
Polaroids of classrooms unattended
~ The Ataris, So Long, Astoria

Erik's POV

I was dreading coming back to Chicago and for a good reason, my cousin.

I had missed the city like the rest of the lads, it was our home, our roots were here.

We started at the bottom and worked our way to be where we are today.

We are nowhere near where we want to be but with the way things have been going the last year, we will soon be in the ranks as one of the most notable bands during our era of rock.

I called my aunt before we left Detroit last night.

I groan as I roll out of bed, making sure to tuck my head under the top bunk before sitting on the edge of the bed.

Everyone is still asleep, even my Ray.

She's sleeping peacefully with a pillow pulled close to her and her hair falling out of the bun she went to bed with.

No trace of the makeup she wore the day before or the tears she shed when her brother left can be noticed; it is like a new canvas waiting to be painted with today's colours.

It doesn't matter how many hours I spend studying her face, I never get bored.

With her, I am always learning something new, whether it be the proper way to peel a banana or why grey on grey is wrong.

I run my fingers through my hair before pushing myself out of bed, it is still early in the morning and I can feel the effects of not having caffeine in my system.

The notes from last night are still splattered on the table along with the cans of monster and packs of cigarettes.

A few beer bottles are also on the counter, but nothing major like some nights on tour where you can't walk without kicking something, whether it be bodies or cans.

I switch the coffee machine on and grab the stack of papers that we had agreed on to be reviewed today.

I choke, 'cause every time I'm fallin' love falls out of me/I'm hardened like a rock, a stone, the brick inside my chest

Kyle had taken it upon himself to start writing this song.

None of us objected when he came barreling into the bus one day and told us we were starting on a new song and that this song would be a hit.

I think we all knew this was his way of dealing with the pain that this poor kid had endured not only once but twice this year.

I run my eyes over the paper, taking in the words that someday I will sing to millions, words I hope never to feel.

"What do you think?" Kyle asks as he comes into the room with a bit of a stumble, "I stayed up to finish the song."

"It's... raw and full of pain," I answer back truthfully, "Is this something you want to release into the world?"

Kyle takes a minute to think before answering me, "yes, I can't be the only one feeling this pain."

"If you are sure this is something you want to move forward with then I will support you." I rest my hand on his shoulder and give him a comforting squeeze.

"Today is going to be hard." I turn to look at Kyle to see him fidgeting with his fingers, picking at his nailbeds.

"We'll be together and take each step together. I'm worried too, we haven't seen her in almost a year. I have my doubts."