Page 46 of The Wreckage of Us
She was so much more complex a human than I’d ever given her credit to be. The more I learned, the more I wanted to know.
“Now, come on. Get to work, or we’re going to be here all freaking night,” she ordered.
I wouldn’t have minded staying there for a few more hours getting a few more confessions out of her. I could’ve thought of a million things that would’ve been worse than spending an evening in the pigpens with Hazel.
“Wait, I have one more confession,” I told her.
“What’s that?”
“I think what you did to protect your mother was the bravest thing a person could ever do.”
Her eyes softened, and she stilled her movements. “You really think so?”
“I do.”
“Thanks, Ian,” she whispered with a timid voice.
“No problem, best friend,” I joked.
She smiled again, and I felt fucking privileged to witness the curve of her lips.
12
IAN
Hazel held up her part of the bargain. Every night after work, she’d sit up with me in the house, and we’d create music with one another. Some nights, we’d work for so long that the sun would start peeking through the sky.
She pushed me to open up, to dig deeper with my thoughts and my emotions, and it was working. Everything was pouring out of me in a way it never had before. The music felt realer with her help. It felt authentic. It felt as if Hazel Stone was the missing piece to my dream coming true. She was the muse I’d been praying for, and I hoped she’d keep helping me cowrite the songs that would change my life.
“What do you think of that, Hazel?” James asked her as she sat in on yet another one of our rehearsals. The same way she was growing on me, she was growing on the bandmates. Hell, I couldn’t count on my hands the amount of times I’d found them around the ranch, talking about our music instead of doing their work. Eric and Marcus were addicted to going to Hazel for advice on their sounds, and she was more than willing to help them out.
“I think it sounds great. Maybe a bit longer of a guitar solo.” She winked toward him, speaking directly to his soul.
“I can do that!” He beamed, picking up his guitar and strumming at the chords.
She did that for all of us—she made us feel excited about the music, and it seemed like a long time since we’d had that level of joy over our creations.
As the days went by, the guys and I worked harder than we ever had to create the next tracks. Eric was quick to post samples of the new sounds all over social media, and the response across the board was mind-blowingly better than anything we’d ever discovered in the past.
“Over three hundred thousand views in twenty-four hours!” he exclaimed late Friday afternoon. “Holy shit! And that was only a twenty-five-second clip! Just wait to see what happens when we release the full clip!” he breathed, sounding shocked as ever.
“This is it,” James said, cheesing like a damn fool. “This is going to be our breakthrough.”
“Remind me to kiss the hell out of Hazel Stone when I see her again,” Marcus joked, and it wasn’t fucking funny.
“Stay the hell away from her,” I warned, sounding more serious than I should’ve. But the idea of Marcus kissing Hazel made my blood boil.
Why, though?
Why did that thought piss me off so much?
Marcus tossed his hands up in surrender. “Just joking, man. You know I don’t kiss where my best friends are interested.”
“What? It’s not like that. I’m not interested in Hazel. I just don’t want to kill a good thing by having you break her heart or something. I need her to keep helping me with the tracks.”
“Right.” James smirked. “And it has nothing to do with you developing feelings for the girl.”
“Feelings?” I huffed. “For Hazel?” I huffed again.