No Name | Completed

Chapter 77 - The Performance

Adam's POV

"Come on man," I murmured to myself, tapping the steering wheel outside of the airport. I checked my phone again, ensuring I had read his message correctly. Yep, United. He should have been here ten minutes ago. Where the hell was he?

You just had to be a good guy, huh Hawkins?

I shook my head as my eyes remained glued to the arrivals glass doors. She was going to kill me for doing this, but it had to be done. For fuck's sake, she wrote a song about him, whether she would admit it or not.

It suddenly felt like I was playing the role of a father, forcing his kids to make up. Sighing, I rubbed my jaw. What I was doing was finally beginning to set in. All chances of being with her would be gone if this goes the way it should.

Thinking back to when I arrived with her pinned against the counter between my arms, my hand clenched into a fist. The way her blue eyes looked up at me...so innocent, so kind and yet, so sad. It was seeing that look that broke me and made me do what I did.

The call obviously didn't go over too well in the beginning, considering who I was and what he originally thought about us, but I eventually got him to agree.

"Vanderlin," he answered the phone, sounding distracted.

I cleared my throat, playing with a nearly dead plant on her balcony. I glanced back to see if she was still in the bathroom. She was taking a shower and God knew she took hour long showers so I figured I was safe. Shit, what I was thinking?

"Hello?" he asked. Something dropped in the background, making a loud bang. "Rae!" he called out. "What was that?"

A muffled 'nothing' responded from the other side.

"Hey man, this is uh, this is Adam Hawkins," I said cautiously.

A moment of silence passed.

"How are you?" he politely asked, his voice tense.

"Good man, thanks, listen I need to talk to you," I replied.

"Can I help you with something?" he grunted, sounding distracted once again.

The plant I was playing with was going limp because of the pressure I was putting on it. Releasing it, I wiped my hand on my jeans and leaned back in her rocking chair, throwing my arm over my eyes, ashamed of myself for losing the battle for her.

"Yeah, you can."

"Well," he said, a hint of annoyance tracing his voice. "What is it?"

"What the hell are you doing man?" I blurt out.

"Ah, umm, am I missing something? Because last I checked, we aren't friends," he harshly responded.

"You're just going to let her go?" I finally asked.

It was silent.

"She made her choice," he simply said.

"Really," I nodded my head to myself, almost amazed he was going to let someone like her go.

"Shouldn't you be happy about that choice?"

I laughed. "I would be," I murmured. "If it had been me."

Silence.

"I tried to reach out to her, she never called," he simply said.

"You and I both know your text doesn't count."

"Look man, I can't believe I'm even doing this," I began. "But she needs you."