Page 14 of Ravaged From Fate

As I gulp down my beer, I accidentally catch a reflection of myself in the kitchen mirror. In the last few weeks of being in this small town, I’ve grown my beard out and the first thing I did when I arrived here was shave my head, and now my appearance has completely changed from a typical bad boy rockstar to some kind of hillbilly. Who knew what two small changes could bring?

Every time I go into town, I just pray I don’t get recognized. So far, there’s been not one flicker of recognition with the East Springs people I’ve interacted with. Hopefully, my luck remains.

I left my phone on charge when I embarked to the bar earlier this evening. I had assumed I’d be gone for only a few hours. I’d assumed I wouldn’t get involved in any fist fights. I take the phone off charge and check the notifications. As I suspect, there’re messages from my bandmates.

Former band mates.

Hey man, where the hell are you? Why did you just ghost on us?

Caspian, let’s talk this out. Call me.

Dude, I know you’re the silent type, but can’t you just let us know you’re okay at the very least?

My response to those is to simply turn off my phone. My former bandmates don’t know where I am, and that’s exactly the way I like it. I’m not going to answer their messages and missed calls, even though I miss them with every fiber of my being. They’re my family, but I had to leave. I’m not going to allow that paparazzi incident to destroy the band. As hard as it is for me to admit it, Ravaged will easily find a new drummer to replace me. Simple as that. And it will probably be someone less prone to outbursts of untamed aggression.

That fateful night when I left the band, I drove as far as I could from LA. I found this place and decided to stop on a whim. This small town, with its one bar, speaks to me in some way. A silent place now forgotten. Far away from the rest of the world. I might be able to forge a new life, I hope. I don’t know what the future holds – I don’t know if I’ll ever go back to LA and try to be a musician again – but, at the very least, I have to make sure Ravaged survives what I did. That’s what’s important.

I check out my wounds in the mirror, raising my tricep to check out the bruises scattered down my arm from when I used my hands as defense for my head. I groan at the pain, but I’m going to be okay. I’ve had worse in my time.

I finish my beer and run myself a hot bath.

My muscles ache as I lower myself into the water. This is the price to pay for a lifetime of aggression. It’s my rightful punishment.

I don’t want to sound self-flagellating, but I know I deserve all this shit. I deserve to no longer be in the band. I can’t ruin it for the men I love.

Fuck.

My mind is a mess. So much noise.

I calm down as I think about Elsa. She did a lot for me tonight – carrying unconscious me into the medical clinic and patching me up – a lot more than should be expected, even if I did step in between her and the gang. She wasn’t sore on the eyes as well…

But I can’t see her again. I might’ve hurt her tonight like I’ve done in every other situation time and time again. Someone innocent always gets hurt when I get physically involved.

As I lie there in the bath, the words of my mom echo in my ear.

Aggressive little boy.

I don’t deserve the band. I don’t deserve anything. I deserve nothing more than to wallow in my pain in this empty house in this little town in the middle of nowhere.

But maybe I should try out this boxing gym the nurse spoke about.

7

ELSA

Piper calls me as I’m on my way into work.

“How was Mr. Hunk last night?” she breathlessly asks down the phone. “Did your little Florence Nightingale act make him fall instantly in love with you?”

“Very funny.”

“Tell me all what happened. Let me write it down.”

“Thanks for all your help last night, Piper,” I reply sarcastically. “Really great for you to just hang out at the bar and let me do all the work carrying the guy to next door.”

“Like I said, I was in shock. I needed a drink.”

“And you think I didn’t?”