Forget Me Not

Chapter 1

"Ryan," Nash's thick cut voice seeped into my slumber. "Ryan, wake up.." Nash said again. His hands grabbing my arm and shaking me. I groaned, not wanting to get up. I didn't want to move much, either. Frowning, I turned my back towards him, pulling my soft blankets up to my chest and nodding.

"Mmmm, Nash.." I said. "Go away." 

"Ryan, wake up."

I sighed again. My head shook, and my body was freezing. 

"Ryan," Nash said, this time more forceful. The annoyance in his voice was strong, or maybe it wasn't annoyance. Maybe it was him annoying me when I wanted to sleep. 

"Ryan," He said again.

"What?!" I snapped. "What on earth do you want at the time of 1 o'clock in the fucking morning?!"

Nash's looked turned into a glare as he pulled me off of the bed and onto the floor. Hearing the thud of my body and feeling the sharp pain in my side, I glared up at him.

"Nash," I said. "You have exactly ten seconds."

Nash's eyes widened. He got off me, shaking his head. 

One.

He stood in place. We kept our eyes locked in focus.

Two.

I got up slowly. 

Three.

Four.

Five.

Nash's eyes widened. Ha, he must've noticed my facial expression. I wasn't going to do anything, but I was intent on scaring him half to death. I creased my eyebrows into a thin line, smirking softly at him.

"Ryan," He said with a smile. "You can't kill me. You need me."

"Oh?"

"Yep." He nodded confidently. I raised my eyebrows slightly, shrugging my shoulders up while motioning with my hand to continue.

 "Without me," He continued after a moments hesitation. "You'd have no lead guitarist-"

"I can play guitar," I cut in.

"No back-up singers-"

"Ian's gotten better," I chucked.

"No co-writers-"

"That's why you hire people."

"No help with sounding the music-"

"Again, that's why you hire people."

Nash's mouther opened, mine following suit. I chuckled before walking over to him and placing a pat on his back.

"You're right, Nashykins. I need you." 

I walked into the bathroom without saying another word, laughing slightly at the expression that was on  Nash's face. Closing the door behind me, I walked over to the mirror, looking at my reflection. I didn't look as bad as I thought. I was actually quite happy with how I looked. My eyes were a soft, yet dark brown, my skin was pale but had a hint of taness to it, and my figure? Well.. Maybe it was a little too small. Even for my standards. I took my shirt off, exposing my tattoos in an instant. I had gotten several over the past two months. Did I care? No. It helped with the pain. I took a deep look at my stomach. I didn't like the way it look. I didn't much care for how small it was, but when I ate I just got sick. The only one to really understand that was Cameron, head master of scheduling. My lips pursed into a thin line as I picked my phone up. I had hoped to see a message from her.. You know.. Megan.. But, yet again, I didn't. I knew why. She was still in the hospital. Spell bent on medications and according to the doctors, "weeks from full recovery." 

I looked at the picture on my lock screen. It was of her and I, the last time we actually got to see each other. She was on my back, her smile radiating through out the photo. I missed her. I missed her so much, and what sucks is she probably won't even remember it. What am I saying? She doesn't remember it. 

I sighed quietly, putting the phone back down and looking back at myself in the mirror. I quickly got dressed and ready for another day of promotion, singing, and another sleepless night. 

Yippee skippee doo.