6 Chapter SIX

C A L E B

I was surprised to get a text from Dave during Liam and I's first public date, and even more so when it stated that he needed to talk to me as soon as possible. I knew he meant maybe the next day or the day after, but I was really curious.

Plus I think I needed a little breather, a bit of a distraction.

I probably made a mistake since coming here wasn't actually helping.

Dave greeted me when I stepped into his office and immediately got down to business. "I contacted Patricia. She told me you and Liam had some sort of falling out before, but she doesn't have a clue why, and your bandmates don't know either. I know you have your reasons for not sharing what happened and Liam does too, but as his manager, I need to ensure that what he'd agreed to won't have unforeseen consequences."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled before swallowing the lump in my throat and mentally cursing myself for sounding so fucking weak. "If Liam hasn't told you, I don't think he'd like it if I would be the one to do so."

Dave let out a disappointed sigh, leaning back on his chair. "I see. I suppose I can't force either of you to talk about it, but I will need to know sooner or later. Caleb, you understand everything we've talked about?"

Before he began to question what happened between Liam and I before, Dave said he knew Liam and I "dating" would be good for our careers, with Liam's new movie and my newly released album. He even tried to make it a lighter conversation by mentioning how celebrities put on this sort of act more often than we think, however that didn't help at all. Dave then added that he honestly didn't expect Liam to sign the contract. Leave and storm away, sure, but not agree.

Which was why he warned me—threatened was the more appropriate term—that if anything happened that hurt Liam even more, if I was the one to screw up this whole agreement, then he'd come after me.

"Yes, I understand, sir." I stood up, determined to dismiss myself. "Is that all?" I asked.

"Patricia will explain future events with you soon enough." Dave gave me what I'm assuming is a warm smile.

"Okay. Good night, then." I turned around, not waiting for his good bye and just left his office. The halls seemed even more eerie during the night. Once I got into the elevator, I let out a deep exhale. I ran both hands down my face, leaning my head against the wall.

This was so messed up.

And it was all because of one stupid tweet.

We were in a bar when I tweeted that, which was probably why I had no recollection of tweeting it. I had talked to Archer and Max the next day when we all woke up in Archer's condo, Max and I with massive hangovers. Archer had explained that when Max and I were drunk as hell, we both started to talk about kissing other people since we saw about ten different couples making-out.

"No, man, kisses are always better under the rain." I recalled Max telling me.

"Yeah, that's cute." I remembered answering him. Archer told me what I didn't remember. Apparently, what I said after that was, "But you know what's even cuter? Gay people kissing."

Apparently, what I had said was completely out of the blue. It had surprised Archer and Max, but Max ended up laughing and agreeing nevertheless. Archer then explained how I went on, in a drunken slur, "But, kissing the same gender looks weird, you know? But not bad weird! It's like, I don't know, good weird? Like, cute weird? The kind of weird that you're not used to, but it's really adorable. Like a turtle and a hedgehog being friends, you know? Really fucking weird, but cute."

And Max then went on about how it was the most brilliant thing he'd ever heard and that I should tweet it immediately.

I only tweeted about a quarter of what I said, obviously, which was why many people took it the wrong way. And even if I did tweet the entire explanation (I wouldn't have been able to do it anyway because I was drunk as hell), I don't think a lot of people would've understood.

It's not like I could suddenly explain to the media and fans that I was drunk when I tweeted it. It would've made things worse.

The elevator dinged open. I let out another deep breath, trying to act like nothing happened.

Liam probably knew how to hide how he felt better. He was an actor, after all.

#

Caleb got in the car and didn't say anything at first. I didn't say anything, either. He started the engine and just began to drive.

"He didn't tell me anything that important." Was what he said after approximately ten minutes, his jaw locked and his grip on the steering wheel tight.

"Oh."

"He told me I should follow through with the contract and that I shouldn't do anything to mess up the agreement or your image."

I looked down at my lap, nodding even though I knew he wasn't looking.

The radio was still on.

I gave him directions to my house. It was a two-story, modern home in a quiet neighborhood. I had only bought the house earlier in the year, finally deciding to move out of my apartment. There were many things I loved about the house, the surrounding plants on the walkway to the front door were my favorite parts about it.

"Thanks." I mumbled once he pulled up in front of the gates. I was already stepping out of the car when my wrist was tugged backwards.

I turned around and Caleb was looking me in the eye.

"Liam, I—I'm sorry. About... everything."

So many unexpected moments just happened today and they've all combined into a massive boulder that's fallen on my chest and is causing me immense pain. I gave Caleb the smile I had practiced so many times in front of the mirror.

"I know." I managed to squeeze out before gently tugging away my wrist.

I closed the passenger side door, walking towards the gates and taking out my keys to open them. I didn't turn around until I heard Caleb's car driving away. I locked up the gates before I walked towards my front door.

Once I stepped inside, everything suddenly hit me like a tsunami. I leaned back against the front door, feeling fresh, hot tears slide down my cheeks as I let out a choked sob.

My knees felt weak. I slid down my back until I was sitting on my butt on the wooden floors. I brought my knees close to my chest, both my hands tugging at my hair.

My breathing had become uneven and my vision was a blurred mess.

After three years, three whole years.

His eyes. His smile. The way he still remembered all these little things about me. The fact that he wrote a song for me. Everything about him, it was still painful to remember.

So there I was, once again, crying over the same boy who promised to be with me but ended up breaking my heart so bad that after three fucking years I still haven't managed to move on.

Because I loved him, for years, and it only took a second for everything to fall apart.