Chapter 6: Not Just A Bad Dream

NOT JUST A BAD DREAM

ROYAL POV

The back of my ear was inflamed, almost to the point of pain. But the sound of the sweetest laughter acted as a soothing balm for all kinds of pain; that I could barely register the burn on the skin. it was almost unbelievable, how her very simple existence seemed to be the were for literally all kinds of pain.

I swerved the car onto another street, laughing at the joke she was trying to tell me but couldn’t, because she was too busy laughing at herself. We were drunk, and reckless as ever. Just like always, and it felt like a dream... A dream I didn't want to wake up from!

Heck. That tattoo was a decision we made in the heat of the moment and never really gave it too much thought. We didn't have to, because it felt right. Etching her name on my skin was one of the things that were up there on my bucket list, and now that I had it, satisfaction was the only thing I could feel inside of me. Everything that had to do with her felt right. It felt like the words ‘I love you’ alone were not enough.

She was my world, my oasis. And every moment spent with her was just so priceless I couldn't trade them for anything!

“Oh My God. It still kills me even today.” She fanned herself before staring at me. My gaze met her black one, and laughter lines formed on the sides of my eyes...

“What? You’ve barely said anything.” I responded with an unbeatable glee. 

“It’s because…” She commenced, only for her to fall down into another fit of a heavy guffaw. Dry heaves rippled out of her as she tried to force words out of her, only to fail as more laughter spilled out of her. I found myself laughing along, and that’s when it happened. 

A loud car horn had my head snapping onto the windshield and the road in front of us. 

The sound of Kenya’s horrified scream caused my adrenaline pouch to erupt in my belly, and I knew I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to her. With the reflexes of a cat, I managed to swerve the car onto the sidewalk just in time as a huge lorry drove past with a whoosh..

“ROYAL? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR DAMN MIND?”

The look of horror was evident on her face, and I couldn’t watch it any longer. 

With my heart hammering in my chest, I sprung out of my bed, then cursed as a pang of headache sliced through my skull. 

I lay there with my eyes closed, my heart heavy like it was pulled down by the force of gravity. 

That hadn’t been just a dream. That had been a memory that always haunted my subconscious as though the universe was punishing me. 

I mean I get it; I deserved all the hate from everything, but wasn’t it just too cruel? Yes, I missed her. Yes, I fucked up the only good thing in my life and I lived to regret it as long as I drew breath; but was my pain of longing for her punishment enough?

The memory of her was alive and fresh in my mind, and I found myself wondering whether she was still alive. I couldn't entertain the thought of living in a world where she wasn't. Even if she wasn't by my side, knowing that she was alive somewhere was an antidote to soothe the pain.. 

Four years. Four years of turning every stone only to be met by cold disappointment. 

It was as though she didn't want to be found. Or worse, she never existed. And I had to live my every day hating that day I handed her those papers.

My mood soured when I remembered the look on her face that night. Confusion, heartbreak so raw, words she wanted to voice out but couldn’t. I hurt her in ways I never thought I would, in exchange for something that ate away at my soul every single second.

What a fool I was!

With a sunken heart, I dragged my heavy self out of bed and jumped into the shower. If it were up to me, I would have focused my mind elsewhere, but my heart was fixated on one person alone. 

Not even a single thing about her on the internet as though her entire existence had been wiped off from the surface of the earth. After our divorce, she'd changed numbers, and deleted her social media accounts; making it impossible to track her down.

My throat bobbed with the thought that she was no more, and I hated how it made me feel. She couldn’t! Not before I fixed the wrongs of my past. Not before she knew just how bad I rued that day and how painful it has been to live without her. 

She just couldn’t! Kenya had to be alive out there, somewhere. And she had to be happy.

The next hour passed in a blur of events, but soon, I was clad in my sweats, runners, and hoodie. I pulled the hood up and hit the road. 

Running had always been my safe escape. And in times like this, only it could help me deal with my demons. With an earpiece in my ear, I left my estate and ran down towards the city. Despite the loud music, my thoughts were eerie and haunting. 

I was thankful for the distraction when my assistant (and something close to a friend), Troy, called to discuss business. The conversation carried me on until I soared through downtown, loving the fresh morning air and all. Well, though it was hardly still in the morning, thanks to the sweet nightmare that had me waking up late. But who cared about a man jogging around 9 in the morning? Even if that man was a celebrity producer, nobody really gave a damn.

This was Nashville, home for the Preds. They did not call it Nashvegas for nothing.

My conversation with Troy grew more heated with every passing second and every muttered word. Part of the reason was that I hated it when people didn't know their place and thought they could steal what was mine. That really irked me to no end.

"If The Trods feel like they are too good to work with me, let them breach the contract. It won't be me who ends up crying at the end of the day." I huffed, my chest rising and falling much quicker; and not just from the running alone, but mostly to what I was hearing.

"I don't think it would be wise to let them off the hook. Well, at least not yet. We got to finish the album first. Think of all the good we've done for the band..."

"And yet they thought of ditching me as soon as that snake promised them all the fine things. Luke is a movie producer, I am the one with the music. And if that's not enough to make them question his authenticity, then they are crackheads. And I hate dealing with one." I thundered into the earpiece, rendering him speechless.

"You are right." of course I was. Carter Productions was my company, I built it from scratch, and I knew what was right for it, and what wasn't.  "But all I am saying is that we've worked so hard bringing them to fame that..."

His words blended with the traffic noise when my eyes spotted the tattoo parlor.

The skin behind my ear burned, begging for a small scratch. My speed came down to a complete zero, and I found myself staring at the reflective door.

Images of us that night flashed through my mind.

I remember wanting to buy this whole place just to keep a piece of her alive. A piece of US. My disappointment when someone else beat me to it and turned it into an antique shop was unmatched. I wanted the memory of this place to live on, for as long as I drew breath.

"Roy? " Troy's voice yanked me to the presence, and a small "yeah" was all that rolled off my suddenly heavy tongue.

"You good? You went dead for a second," he called out.

I spun on my heel and glanced around.

"Yeah..." my mind was utterly elsewhere. And here I thought running would help put my demons to sleep, and yet I found myself on the same street they lived on.

"Sorry. I was... I was distracted. You were saying?" I pushed my hands into my pockets and started to walk all the energy knocked out from out of me.

"I will let them know that they can piss off. We have....'

My eyes landed across the street, and right by the traffic lights was...

My heart leaped into my throat, and adrenaline soared to my lungs as I stared at the back of...

She looked just like her...

My Kenya. Even the way she moved; the unmistakable jump in her steps, the smoothness of her strides, and that unbeatable sway of hips no amount of money could afford...

 "Royal?" Troy called out again, this time, annoyed. I blinked rapidly, and just like that, she was gone.

My heart throbbed with an agonizing ache. All it took was a blink, and she was gone.

"Hey. Let me call you when I get home." I didn't wait for him to respond. instead, I hung up the call with all bitterness and propelled my feet to carry me home.

But what was home without her?