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Mistake’s Melody (Unquiet Mind #4)
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He’s world famous.
But he’s none of that to me.
To me, he’s just Wyatt.
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There wasn’t love at first sight.
No fireworks. No butterflies.
Pardon the cliché, but he was just a boy and I was just a girl. There was a spark because he was hot and I was a hormonal, confused teenage girl. But nothing like that stupid Hallmark movie shit.
Nothing to warn me that in the years to come, this boy would turn into a man. One of the most famous rock stars in the world.
And he’d ruin my fucking life.
But we needed to start at the beginning before we got to the end.
I met Wyatt Summers when I was seventeen years old. When he was just a kid with a bass and a smile that ruined teenage girls.
Average teenage girls.
Whose hearts only got broken by attractive boys. Whose biggest worries were their hair, the Prom and…whatever else teenage girls worried about.
Even as a teenage girl, I wasn’t a teenage girl.
I was forced to be an adult since I was old enough to talk. Old enough to comprehend my parents were hateful, spiteful and just big fat assholes, really. Because graduating into an ‘adult’ wasn’t a twenty-first birthday or a driver’s license. No, it was the second the world stopped giving a shit about your age and gave you all the worst of the pain and ugliness it had to offer. I was born in pain and ugliness, therefore I was never really a kid. I was a small human with an adult’s threshold for pain.
So those normal teenage girls were getting their hearts broken by boys like Wyatt. My heart was chiseled, chipped, and whittled away at by my parents. That was something that wasn’t heavily advertised about heartbreak. It wasn’t something that just happened between lovers. It was when anyone gave themselves over to another human being—or two—and trusted them to take care of them, to take care of their fragile heart and that person or people did what people did to fragile things, break them. My parents didn’t love me in the first place, so there’s that agony of having people you loved—biologically, intrinsically, even though you didn’t want to—have nothing but indifference toward you.
Then there was the abuse.
That sucked, to put it lightly.
I didn’t tell Lexie and Mia about that. Or Steve and Ava when they were alive. They would have taken it upon themselves to help. Because they were good people. Some of the only good people I knew. The first good people I’d ever met, actually. And no way was I corrupting good people’s lives with my own troubles. Even as a kid, I was fiercely proud in a way that didn’t make sense since my parents didn’t raise me to be proud.
They didn’t raise me to be anything but their minor annoyance and sometimes punching bag. Their punches, their indifference, their insults had nothing on the day that I learned about Steve and Ava’s deaths.
They may have adopted Lexie and Mia, but when Lexie and Mia adopted me, they didn’t blink. They welcomed me into the family with ease, with a love that I’d never experienced. Never realized existed outside of Hallmark movies.
And then they died.
A day I learned about more heartbreak. About how giving your heart to kind, loving and amazing people still got you punched in the chest when they were ripped from the face of the earth.
Lexie and Mia lived in California, and I was alone with my miserable fucking family and my miserable fucking life. The one I escaped from not long after the funeral, also one I’d never truly get away from, despite my geographical location.
Then, just before Lexie’s band made it big, I met Wyatt.
I didn’t have a heart to break by the time I met him.
It had been crunched up, shredded and ruined by the world in general.
I didn’t want to give it to him even if it hadn’t. He wasn’t remarkable. He was incredibly attractive, sure. And his grin was somehow goofy, cheeky and sexy at the same time.
But all of the boys in the band were attractive.
Sam, more goofy and egotistical but somehow still made it sexy.
Noah soulfully beautiful but utterly gay. Something that he wasn’t admitting to the band—or himself. I got that. There was a boatload of issues I wasn’t admitting to myself either.
Namely being I was totally and utterly emotionally crippled.
Hence me running away from home and finding temporary solace with two people that represented home to me. Hence me meeting Wyatt in a garage outside Lexie and Mia’s house.
“Emma,” Wyatt said, grinning and shamelessly leering in a way that he only pulled off because he was attractive as all hell and wearing a Smashing Pumpkins tee.
And because I was kind of doing the exact same to him. Lexie told me about her bandmates, sent me pictures so I’d been prepared for hot. And he was hot. So I leered.