Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
But what if it’s him? What if Ezra was the one who . . . fuck. I can’t even bring myself to think the words.
“Rae,” Madds tries again.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I can’t lose them. Either of them.”
Tears stream down my face like waterfalls, and I unlock my phone, determined to prove them wrong. I know it’s the middle of the night, and Axel is probably tucked in bed, but all I need is to call him. He’ll set the record straight, but as my screen comes to life, I finally see it.
Over a hundred missed calls.
Thousands of Instagram DMs.
Threads. TikTok. Facebook. Whatsapp. Even my emails are flooded. My phone simply can’t keep up with the demand. While it’s shocking and heartbreaking, it’s also more than enough to prove that this is so much more than some bullshit social media story.
This is as real as it gets.
One of them is gone.
I instantly curse myself. I’d gotten home from my bullshit date and thrown myself into my studies. I’d put my phone on Do Not Disturb and thumbed through the endless pages of my textbooks until I couldn’t keep my eyes open a moment longer. If I’d just left my phone alone—
Oh God. My last conversation with Axel, I was so short with him. What if that was our very last conversation? What if I never get a chance to tell him how much I love him? How his happiness means the world to me. How I’m so damn proud of him?
Throwing myself from my bed, I pace my room as I madly start trying numbers.
Axel. Dylan. Rock. The label. The boys’ manager. Their fucking producer and sound technician. But nothing. Every one of their phones are off.
The panic and emptiness within me feel like nothing I’ve ever known, and as the hopelessness weighs down on me, I crumble to the ground. The pain is agonizing, like a vise closing around my chest and refusing me just a moment of peace, but what does it matter? If it’s Ezra or Axel, peace is something I’ll never find again.
My face falls into my hands as the gut-wrenching sobs tear from the back of my throat, and not a moment later, Madds is right there with me, her knees crashing against the cheap carpet as she pulls me into her arms. “It’s going to be okay,” she vows, struggling to get the words out. “I’m going to be right here every step of the way. We’ll get through this.”
I shake my head. “How is it ever going to be okay?” I ask. “If it’s Ax or Ezra . . . Am I a monster for hoping it’s Rock or Dylan?”
A new wave of heavy sobs comes on, and I crumble right into Madds as she struggles to hold me up. Rock and Dylan are just as much my family as Axel and Ezra are. They were there through my awkward teen years and stood by and teased me about being head over heels in love with Ezra. They’re the only ones who truly know what it was like between us. They knew how rare our bond was. They’re like brothers to me. To lose any of them would be devastating, but Axel and Ezra . . . They’re my whole entire world.
“You’re not a monster,” Madds soothes, trying to get to her feet and pulling me up. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed. Someone is going to call you soon, and you’ll get the answers you need.”
I nod, letting her pull me up, and a moment later, I’m snuggled in my bed, holding my pillow to my chest as the tears continue rolling down my cheeks. Madds sits up beside me, silently crying as she goes through my phone and disables all my notifications, even going as far as to tell the random asshole from the press who knocks on our door to fuck off.
The long, drawn-out minutes turn into hours as I stare at my bedroom window, watching the pitch-black sky morph into a frosty orange sunrise. There hasn’t been a single update online or on the news, no calls from anyone who could give me insight, no texts, no sliding into my DMs. Just agonizing silence.
I can’t take it a moment longer.
The tears never dried up, and after three hours of constant crying, my swollen, red eyes feel like sandpaper, but true to her word, Madds hasn’t left me for even a moment, and it somehow makes everything just that bit easier.
I’ve started to convince myself that no news is good news. If it were Rock or Dylan who had passed, there wouldn’t be a call. At least, not yet. Their family would need to be notified first and then maybe at a decent time in the morning, Axel would call to let me know the details. But if it were Axel or Ezra, surely the phone should have rung by now. I know things are weird between me and Ezra, but if it were Axel, he’d call. He wouldn’t allow anyone else to do it. He’d pick up the phone and call the one number he’s avoided for so long, knowing that it needed to be him.