K. Linde - Take Me for Granted

I still hadn’t heard from her since she left the ski lodge. I hadn’t messaged her since Christmas, and I was going to try to keep that up until she got back to school. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop myself from rushing over to her place as soon as she was supposed to be home.

“Bro, when are you going to stop this shit? I’ve only been back around you for a fucking week, and already, I’m tired of you sober,” Vin complained.

“I just don’t feel like drinking tonight. You drink enough for both of us anyway.”

“Is it still about that chick?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said quickly. My standard answer.

“Good. Don’t talk about it. Just fucking get over it.”

“I’m not just getting over her either, so just drop it.” My voice lowered dangerously.

Vin knew this was a bad topic, yet he wouldn’t let it go. One day, he was seriously going to get his ass handed to him.

“I know what you should do.”

“What’s that?”

“That,” he said, pointing out a banging brunette who had been eye-fucking me all night.

“No.”

“Fuck, man, look at those tits. She’s got them on full display for you. And that ass. I know you’re an ass man, bro. When she leans over, I can straight-up see ass cheeks. That chick wants your dick. She wants to blow it, suck it, fuck it, ride it. You name it. She wants it. Why the fuck would you stay sober and mope around about your ex-girlfriend when that ass is begging you to shove your cock in it?”

I clenched my fists at my sides. I would not blow up on my brother. I would not throw my fist in his face. “She’s not my ex-girlfriend,” I said as calmly as I could.

“She walked out on you. Sounds like a free-for-all to me. Just get over it.”

“Are you over Sydney?” I asked just to shut him up.

Vin glared at me. “Don’t even bring that shit up. Miller’s on my fucking shitlist.”

“You weren’t even together. You haven’t been since high school. I’ll get over Ari as soon as you’re over Sydney, all right?”

“Only one difference—I’m fucking other chicks, and you aren’t.”

I shrugged. I wasn’t Vin, and this wasn’t Sydney. This was Ari. I only had about two weeks left before I would see her, and I wasn’t going to fuck up between now and then.

Hollis walked up to us with a big smile and clapped his hands together. “You guys ready for the biggest performance you’ve ever experienced?”

“Fuck yeah!” Vin cried.

“Grant?” Hollis asked.

“Course I’m ready.”

“Hollis, bro, you need to convince Grant to get over his ex. He won’t listen to me anymore.”

I glared at Vin and crossed my arms over my chest. I wasn’t going to talk about this shit with Hollis.

“Ah, relationship trouble? This about the girl who walked in at the ski lodge?”

I ground my teeth and nodded.

“Not the first time I’ve seen that happen unfortunately. That’s just the life, the way it is. Girls don’t stick around long in this environment.”

“See, bro?” Vin said, slapping my arm. “Go fuck that girl.”

Hollis glanced over in the direction where Vin was pointing. “Ah, Jaci. I bet you’d like her, Grant. She floats around with the band.”

Groupie. Fucking groupie slut. That was all I could think. Suddenly, I was repulsed by the thought instead of encouraged like I always had been.

“That’s the kind of girl you should be hanging around with anyway. No real attachments. She understands the life, and when you guys become famous, she won’t make a scene,” Hollis said with a laugh.

Shit, he’s fucking serious.

“This is the shit I’ve been telling him,” Vin agreed as if what Hollis had said made perfect fucking sense.

“I’ll introduce you after the show. Come to think of it, you’d probably like her friend Jennifer, too. In the meantime, you guys are up.” Hollis gestured to a side door where Miller and McAvoy were already standing, waiting to go onstage.

I could tell they were a bit nervous by the look on Miller’s face and the habitual way McAvoy flipped his drumstick.

I didn’t even have time to tell Hollis I had no interest in Jaci or Jennifer whether or not they were friends who would probably let me take them home together.

We were ushered to the side of the stage. Someone announced us, and the crowd erupted into applause as we walked onstage. To my credit, I kept my emotions in check, but this was, without a doubt, the biggest venue we’d ever played. The pit was teeming with people on their feet, screaming our name.

Once I was onstage, there was nothing else in the world. This was where I belonged, where I’d always wanted to be. I grasped the microphone in my hand and took over. “Happy New Year, New York City!”

The screams were deafening, even without earpieces for the show.

“We’re ContraBand, coming to you from Princeton, New Jersey. While you might not know us yet, I’m sure you’re going to be screaming our name all night long.”

I launched into “Hemorrhage” at McAvoy’s lead, and I lost myself in the performance. Feeding off of the crowd’s energy, we played phenomenally.

I wished Aribel could be here to experience it, but she was in Boston, probably going to fancy parties and trying to forget about me.

But I was goddamn certain that no one at the venue was going to forget about us tonight. We blew through our set like it was the easiest thing we’d ever done. I tossed a guitar pick into the crowd, and girls screamed as they literally clawed at each other to get it. I expected this behavior for The Drift…but for us? We were nobody. But maybe…maybe we were becoming somebody tonight.

Then, we hit “Life Raft.” I’d insisted that we keep it on the set list. It tethered me to Ari, and even though I knew I was emotionally unstable, I’d wanted to sing it for her. I’d wanted to imagine her in the crowd and remind her of what she meant to me.

Except now that I was here, it was the last song I wanted to sing. The truth was…Ari wasn’t here. She couldn’t hear me sing to her. She wouldn’t get to listen to me reminding her how she had saved me.

Pain pierced my heart as Vin picked at the melody I’d been strumming all winter break.

“This next song is our latest.” I looked out across the thousands of people screaming for us, waiting expectantly. My breath caught in my throat, and then I envisioned Ari out there, listening. It made it easier to say, “This one is for every time you’ve ever fallen in love. We call it ‘Life Raft.’”

I gasped.

Straight-up gasped.

If everyone else around me wasn’t screaming at the top of their lungs, then someone other than Cheyenne might have noticed my shock. Did Grant McDermott just confess his love for me onstage in front of thousands of people?

I reached out and grabbed Cheyenne’s arm to steady myself. I couldn’t breathe. This was the most unreal moment of my life. I’d come here to make amends, and he’d gone and done that. Whatever I had been planning to say was sure to pale in comparison.

Love.

Well…fuck. That was all I had. He’d knocked me down to four-letter expletives.

“Are you going to be okay?” Cheyenne asked.

I shook my head. “No. I don’t know.”

Whatever Cheyenne said next was lost on me as Grant sang our song. Despite the gentle quality of his voice, I could tell he was struggling to get the words out.

You’re my life raft in an endless ocean.

They ate at him. They showed every single emotion that he’d been sending through those text messages over break. He missed me, and he was hurting.

You saved me from drowning.

You saved me from myself.

And everything about him in that moment showed me how much the words affected him. He was drowning, and I wasn’t there to pull him out of it. I felt my heart breaking all over again.

The song ended, and without another word, Grant stormed offstage. The other guys stared after him in shock. This clearly had not been part of their plan. Grant had just disappeared. I needed to get to him.

Miller recovered himself enough to grab the microphone and thank the crowd for coming out to see them. It cut their show off by at least three songs. They always closed with “Letting You.” Something was wrong.

“We need to get backstage,” I told Cheyenne frantically.

“What the fuck was that about?” she asked as she gestured for us to break through the crowd.

“I don’t know, but it wasn’t good. He wrote that song for me.”

“He wrote ‘Life Raft’ for you?” Cheyenne asked in disbelief. “Holy shit! That’s their best fucking song.”

“Yeah, and he kind of looked like he was going to go off the deep end when he was singing it.”

“Well, no shit! What do you think he’s going to do?”

“I don’t know. Nothing. He was probably just pissed.”

“Then, why are we running?” Cheyenne asked.

I didn’t justify that with an answer. I didn’t know what Grant was thinking. He’d never stormed offstage before. He loved his music. But he missed me. I knew he did. I didn’t think the combination of all that pent-up anger and frustration along with the reminder of me was going to do anything good for him in his mental state.

We rounded a corner that took us to the backstage entrance. A bunch of girls were standing around. Some were talking to the bouncer, and it looked like they were trying to sweet talk their way backstage. Other girls were just hanging around, hoping someone would let them inside. Cheyenne confidently elbowed her way past all the annoying girls and walked right up to the bouncer. One of the girls gave her a death glare.

“Name?” he asked, giving us a look that said he was thankful not to be talking to the other girl now.

“Cheyenne Redding and guest.”

The man ran his hand down the list and then checked us off. “Good to go, ladies.”

“How—”

“Vin,” Cheyenne said dismissively.

Of course.

We got backstage and saw that it was not just a large area, but it was packed. I sighed. I didn’t know where Grant would be and what state I’d find him in.

“Split up?” Cheyenne suggested.

“Sure.”

Not knowing where to start, I turned to the right went in search of Grant. I figured he’d be surrounded by people, but there was the possibility that he was off somewhere alone. I was also looking for the other guys, hoping to catch a glimpse of them coming offstage, but I had no such luck.

I was thinking about circling back to the entrance to find Cheyenne when I nearly ran into a guy. He looked like he was in a hurry and pissed.

I squeaked and got out of his way. “Sorry.”

His gaze fell on me, and his anger disappeared. It was replaced with curiosity, and then he smiled. “No problem at all. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“No harm, no foul,” I said.

“Can I help you with anything?”

“I’m just looking for Grant McDermott,” I said with a sigh.

I always felt like I was looking for him at these kinds of things. They needed to make the backstage smaller.

“Oh, Grant? Yeah, sure. I just saw him walk out.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised. “Where did he go?”

The guy shot me an amused look, and my stomach dropped.

“I think he had a girl with him, so I can only imagine.”

No. I wouldn’t believe what he was telling me. That just didn’t make any sense.

“Um…are you sure? I mean…he looked pretty upset when he got offstage.”

“He was pretty upset. I don’t know if we’ve met, but I’m Hollis Tift. I manage The Drift. I’ve been working pretty closely with Grant since Halloween. I have a feeling you’re this Ari who everyone keeps talking about.”

I blushed. “Um…yeah, I am.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, Ari, but this is just how it is. This is the life.” He spread his arms wide, indicating all the groupies. “I’m sure he liked you. But why would he wait around? He realized his mistake, and he’s reconciling that problem.”

My mouth hung open, and for once, I was rendered completely speechless. I couldn’t listen to this. I couldn’t believe this. This wasn’t Grant. This wasn’t the man I’d fallen for.

But when we had started talking, he hadn’t been in this position. I hadn’t been worried about the groupies before, but these girls were professionals.