Page 5 of Kneeling for Them

Once the hot air is blasting from every hidden vent in the place, I fall onto my sofa, phone in hand.A quick push of several buttons, and I’ve made another donation to SAPSE—Sexual Abuse Prevention of San Esteban.It’s not redemption.It’s not penance.I can’t even call it fucking altruism, because I do it for me, not for anyone else.

I haven’t spoken to Trina since last night, and I dread the moment when she might call again.Last night, she’d assured me that of course she wasn’t threatening me.But the phone call has lived in my head ever since.

She is keeping a big fucking secret, no denying it.And she wants something from me—ever since I quit recording and performing, she’s been begging me to come back.

Trina might not be demanding anything quite yet, but she’s running out of patience, and I have to give hersomething.What, though?A new song?A new tour?My palms get sweaty at the very idea of going on tour again.Alcohol offered everywhere.Drugs, too, although those were never my vice.

Maybe I could give Trina a song, though.Record a single.Release it into the world.Trina could keep pulling in her percentage of my income, and I could donate all proceeds to SAPSE.

And I could pray that my name coming up again doesn’t dredge up bad memories for the poor woman I hurt.

What would Ella want me to do?I wish I could ask her, but no.I can’t bear the thought of her turning away from me in disgust, disappointment, anger.

So the solution is to give Trina what she wants.Can I bear to do it?My penthouse is littered with notebooks which are filled with lyrics and notations.There’s a guitar in every room so I can pick one up and play at a moment’s notice.If the muse strikes, I’m ready.

I toss my phone on the sofa and pick up a notebook.I find a pencil and start writing.

Ashes weigh me down

The wreckage of my heart

Dystopian carnage

The fire won’t burn out

Lungs doused in kerosene

I can’t breathe without you here

Not through smoke

Not through fire

Not til the ash is clear

I’m choking on the fear

Can’t breathe without

Can’t breathe without

Can’t breathe without you here

Even though I just kissed her a few hours ago, I miss Ella.

I have to fix this, because my relationship with Ella is in jeopardy with this Trina thing hanging over my head.Yeah, I’ll give Trina this song.It’ll be just enough to get her off my back.

I text Trina.I’m working on new lyrics.

She calls me immediately.I have to pick up.Fuck.

“Bastian!”she says, all happy and excited.“Just got your text.”

I just sent it, so I say, “Yeah.I can’t really talk.I want to hash out some chords—”

“Sure, sure, I don’t want to interrupt your work.I only wanted to say how proud I am.You still have it in you.”

“Yeah.”