There was no Hollywood. There was no Beverly Hills. There was no Earth, no space, no universe. Just us. Two lovers. “Skylar, I—,” I started. But I stopped myself. “What is it, Emma?” he asked, taking my chin in the crook of two fingers and lifting it up to his, his eyes sparkling in the night, reflecting the lights of the cities and the stars. “I just...It’s so hard, you know?” “Being clean?” “Yeah.” “I guessed. I’m sorry I got so mad before. I just want you to get better, you know?” “I do too.” “You know, you were clean tonight.” “And for the last week, well, since...” “Really?” “Yeah. Really. And it’s pretty weird and that makes me feel..” “Weak? Vulnerable?” “Yeah, how did you know?” “I'm pretty scared. All the time. And sometimes it makes playing and writing the music easier. Because when I write? I get to pour that into my work. I get to take pain and angst and the unreasonable emotions that come with being young and vulnerable, as tough as I try to pretend I am, and I get to sell it, in the form of the albums, the shows.
What do You think about Pulse (Contemporary New Adult/college Romance) (Club Grit Trilogy)?
