Night Shifts Black(53)

"Ok, calm down. Maybe he just left to get breakfast or something," Casey says, but his own voice is wavering.

He puts his arms around me, and we hold each other for a moment, trying to piece together what's happening and what to do with it.

"Oh, god, Casey. What if he was saying goodbye last night?" I whisper, the words oozing out like venom on my lips. I'm having trouble breathing.

I can feel Casey tense, and hold him tighter.

"No, he wasn't. He's fine. He has to be fine."

I nod, completely numb.

"I'm going to call the front desk and see if they can give me any information. Callie, it's going to be fine, ok? I'm sure there's an explanation."

I can't even muster a nod this time as he gently pulls away and moves toward the room phone. While he's doing that, I call Luke's, but I'm not surprised when it goes straight to voicemail. I try a text, but that doesn't go through either. His phone must be off.

"Hi, this is Casey Barrett from Room 403. We're trying to get in touch with Luke and are wondering if he mentioned where he was headed this morning on his way out … sure, yeah, I can wait … " He glances over at me. "They're going to ask the lobby employees if any of them saw or spoke to him." His face changes and he turns back to the phone. "Yeah, I'm here … uh-huh … yeah … wait, what? Really … did he say where he was going or what he was doing? Ok … thanks … um, no, that's ok … thanks for your help."

He hangs up the phone and stares at me. There's nothing I like about the look on his face.

"What is it?" I ask, my voice barely audible.

He clears his throat. "They said they saw him leave about an hour ago carrying an old chair. He didn't talk to anyone."

I pale. I can feel the blood draining from my face and instinctively rush toward the office. I throw open the door and, sure enough, The Chair is missing. All that's left are four small indents in the carpet serving as a grotesque monument to its powerful presence. And now, devastating absence.

"It's gone," I whisper as Casey comes up behind me. The tears start to fall now, and I inexplicably find myself getting angry more than anything. Furious at Luke for making us love him, coming so far, only to give up at the finish line.

"Callie … " Casey's arms wrap around me again, and I turn to settle into him. We stand in silence for a long time, having no idea what to say, what to do. We don't know where to start looking for a suicidal man with a chair, and the cops would just laugh at our "emergency." So we do nothing because after everything we've done over the last month, there's nothing left to do.



       
         
       
        

Then, suddenly, a crash.

I straighten, and Casey and I exchange a shocked look before running toward the kitchen. Our door is opening, and before he can even get through it, two roommates are tackling Luke in the entryway.

He laughs at us and almost drops the cup carrier and bag he's holding.

"What's this?" he asks, but I'm not ready to let go.

"You were gone," I whisper. "We were so scared."

He shakes his head in disbelief. "I went to get breakfast," he gasps, holding up the evidence for our review.

His face changes as he studies us. "Wow, you guys were really scared."

I nod and wipe the tears from my eyes. Now, tears of relief.

I step back and search his face. "The chair was gone. The lobby employees said you left with it."

He almost seems embarrassed as I let him go, and he drops the food on the counter.

"Yeah. I returned it."

I stop. "You returned it?"

He nods. "To Jemma's. I shouldn't have stolen it in the first place."

"But … "

"I don't need it anymore, Callie. It's not who I am, like you said."

I close the gap and give him another giant hug, this time making sure he knows that no matter how bad things get, he is never going to be allowed to leave us. That he is loved too much to be a memory. I still can't speak, but Casey can.

"Dammit, Luke. Can you leave us a freaking note next time?"





The Rest.





I wish I could say the three of us live happily ever after after that. That Luke and Casey (and I) go on to win countless awards. Casey and I get married, have three photo album children, twelve grandchildren, and die as happy old people holding hands in the house we built under a quilt I made. That Luke eventually finds peace and love, and none of us ever has to visit that dark place behind the mirror again.

But that's not the way things work.

I don't know what will happen. I know it probably won't be all, or any, of that. All I know is what's now, and that I have to embrace it, because you can't define yourself by the future and what you're not. Because sometimes we make bad choices and sometimes the evil chooses us, and that mirror is always there, waiting for the moment when we give up and relinquish power.

So, here's what I know.

I'm Callie Roland. Twenty-three, and I'm a great friend. I'm an ok writer who got incredibly lucky and will soon have writing credits on an EP put out by rock superstars Night Shifts Black. I'm crashing in a ridiculously expensive hotel with my incredible boyfriend whom I'm pretty sure I'm in love with, and my other friend I love like a brother. 

I know Casey Barrett is inspired again and writing like a fiend. He's already finished his "break up song" called "Too Late," which he continues to swear is inspired by brief fling Jana Furmali, and not me whom he's crazy about. That doesn't stop me from teasing him, of course. Anything to see that magnetic grin as much as possible.

Here are the lyrics we worked on together.



"Isn't it obvious our feelings fade away

Isn't it obvious it's too late to make a change

So I wait for the innocent moment of truth

You want a sign, demanding your proof



It's too late for answers

Too late for questions

Too late for telling lies

Too late for pleading

Too late for reason

You know it's time, oh it's time



Isn't it obvious amidst our cold embrace

Isn't it obvious there's too much to erase

And you wait for the shadow of a memory

Here's your sign, you barely saw me leave



A picture's worth a thousand words

Let's leave them as memories … "



Thanks, Jana.

Which brings us to Luke Craven. He's still sad, quieter than he should be, but no longer decimated. He participates in life more often than not, and has finally agreed to let us finish "Perfect Day" for the EP. He even had some input on "Too Late" and "Laughing Stock," and openly admits the final set will be an epic comeback that'll make the Label and fans happy. He's also seriously talking about sobriety and promised to seek counseling for his depression. He's cut back on the alcohol to maintenance levels, although he's still stuck in dependence and needs professional support. Casey and I made a compelling case for counseling, encouraging Luke with confessions of our own experiences letting the pros guide and support us through our journey out of the darkness. We're setting a goal of getting him help prior to the tour, which is currently scheduled to kick off on September 12.

And yes, I also now know that I'm officially going with them. Don't laugh, but somehow I've ended up with this crazy image of being Luke's guardian angel. Casey finds the whole thing hilarious, the way everyone treats me like I'm some holy psychiatrist, but he's not complaining, and thinks it will be good for me to be around as support for both of them. Luke needs that extra boost to get through what's going to be a very difficult transition back to the life he fled, and I think, deep down, Casey knows Luke needs more than the ancient friendship Casey can provide. He needs a rude, impolite, busybody who will refuse to let him imprison himself. Someone to fight that damn mirror and keep it from claiming another victim. He doesn't need a fan, he needs a supporter. An anchor, not a dreamer, and that's me.

Callie Roland, hammer.





Note from the Author.



Depression is a serious illness that can go unrecognized by the victim and surrounding loved ones.



If you, or anyone you know, have plans to harm yourself, or you just need someone to talk to, help is available. Please know you are not alone, and help is just a phone call away.



The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-TALK is the United States based suicide prevention network of 161 crisis centers. It provides a 24-hour, toll-free hotline available to anyone in suicidal crisis or emotional distress.



Seek help, and know that you are important and you are loved.



Sincerely,



       
         
       
        



Alyson Santos





Acknowledgements.



To my husband who has proven to be my hammer. Thank you for your endless support and love as we face this journey of life together.



To my brother and friend. I can never thank you enough for your insight and inspiration in bringing the music to life. I'm honored to call you my brother and love you dearly.



To Tesrin Afzal and Darlene Avery. There are no words, ladies. I will always be grateful that this story brought us together and locked you forever in my heart.



To Eli Peters and Evie Woods. So blessed and honored to have you on my team. Love you ladies big and will always be floored and humbled by your generosity and faith in me.