***Alissa Blake***
I stayed up all night. All I could think about was the situation with Morgan or paying attention to the nonsense my parents were saying to try and fool me.
I wasn’t like them—I knew very well that this was just part of an act. I hated the smell of this house; it smelled exactly like before. I wanted to leave. I spent the night packing and unpacking my bags until I heard two timid knocks on my bedroom door.
Morgan excited about the drawings she had made at school. It made my heart ache.
See, I’m not exactly the best definition of someone who gets attached or stays close to family. But she was just a child. Innocent, unaware of how much these two could destroy her as she grew up.
When morning came, my head ached from the sunlight hitting my face.
I took a cold shower—ice-cold—to remind myself to stay focused on my goal and not get distracted by Holden, even though he had been hammering in my mind ever since I heard him sing my song.
I was so angry. He had crossed every line. But later, when the anger faded and I could just reflect while the song played softly on my phone, I remembered how beautiful his voice was, how his raspy tone had breathed life into those lyrics in a way that made the hairs on my arms stand up.
Holden was pure talent, and it was a shame he was losing himself in all this, chasing an illusion of what he thought fame would be. I remember what he used to want, and this—these headlines I try to avoid but end up seeing—has nothing to do with the Holden Young I once knew.
Either way, I didn’t want to let my routine revolve around him again, like it had in the past months. He made his choice. He chose Chloe. He chose not to call me, not to give me an explanation. Now, I had other priorities.
Before going downstairs, as I was still wrapped in a towel, looking for my body lotion, I heard my phone ring. I picked it up absentmindedly—until I saw his picture flashing on the screen. My heart stopped.
What did I want to hear? A justification? An apology? Or, deep down, did I just want proof that Holden still thought about me?
Before I could decide, the call was answered. But it wasn’t Holden on the other end.
"Alissa." Cyrus’s voice came through the line, sounding slightly surprised as if he hadn’t expected me to pick up. Well, I wouldn’t have if I had known it was him and not Holden.
I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to push down the frustration welling up inside me before it became too obvious in my voice.
"Hey, Cyrus." I guess I’m not very good at pretending.
"I imagine you’ve heard the song." He got straight to the point, always direct.
A sigh escaped before I could stop it. I remembered the emotions it had stirred in me, everything I had tried to avoid—unsuccessfully.
"Yeah… I’ve heard it, seen it, and I’m practically being haunted by it. Feels like it’s everywhere." Really, it was like a walking karma.
"Of course it is." He commented, casual and overly confident as if we were discussing something trivial. "The reception has been amazing. The audience loved it, just like they love everything he puts out."
A part of me warmed at that. It was stupid, maybe, but I had always dreamed of seeing one of my compositions come to life. I just never expected it to happen like this.
"He released it without telling me." I tried to sound harsher, even though part of me was secretly giddy with excitement.
"Yes," Cyrus confirmed, without hesitation.
"And without crediting me, right?"
"Also yes." A muffled chuckle echoed through the line.
I stayed silent, waiting for him to add something. But Cyrus never spoke more than necessary.
"Why?" I finally asked.
There was a brief pause before he answered.
"You know how Holden is. He acts on impulse."
That should have been enough of an answer, but something about it unsettled me.
"He knew that song was mine."
"He did."
"So why did he do it?"
"Oh, Alissa…" Cyrus chuckled lightly, a sound both indulgent and almost irritating. "The label was pressuring him for something new, something raw, something that would connect with the audience. And, well… Holden had that song ready."
A pang of doubt ran through me. I didn’t know if Cyrus was telling the truth or if he just wanted me to believe it.
"He did? That’s strange…"
"That’s what he said." Cyrus continued, his voice always calm, always controlled. Too controlled. "And you know Holden. He never turns things in on time, never follows the rules when he’s upset about something… But this time, he did. Maybe because that song meant something to him. Something deep that he could never tell, or... or something that he wanted to forget, maybe.
I swallowed hard, trying to process it. Upset about something, something that he wanted to forget... Did he do this out of anger at me? As a punishment?
He knew how important this was to me. So… would Holden do something like that to me?
I was at a crossroads, and now, I didn’t know who to believe.
Only Holden could make me understand his true intentions.