shattered•7•hearts

CONTROL

London has been in a shitty mood all week and everyone knows it. I've never been shouted at, cursed at, or belittled as much as I was for the past few days and it is exhausting. I hate being yelled at, it always makes me cry but to pacify the situation, I pushed everything down. Like I used to in public school. Today is Friday, and none of us know the source of the band leader's anger.

I learned on Monday that the old Victorian house belongs to London. On Tuesday, he was late to school and in a pissy mood. Brendan tried multiple times to talk to his best friend but in true London fashion, as I've noticed this week, he cursed at him to bugger off. That's not even the worst part!

I have been the most docile in this situation, making sure not to sing or do the wrong thing while the others kept pressing him for answers. Can you guess who the brunt of his anger is? Me! Me, who has just been sitting here waiting for the storm to pass. Every time we're in the same room he finds a reason to say something, anything to me.

That has caused an obvious rift between him and Jackie. She knows about my public school life and hates seeing me cry. She will fight tooth and nail for me, getting in anyone's face without caring about their status or position in life. Lately, that has been none other than London Morse.

The musician part of him is lovely. I still love his music and I am still honored to be part of it but I have decided that I don't like him as a person. He's too bossy, too controlling. His perfectionism is a curse and I hate being the brunt of his anger; it brings back too many bad memories.

I snap back into reality when my ears register screaming. I blink away the haze and meet the blazing dark blue eyes of my band leader. A scowl sits perfectly on his lips.

"Daydreaming again!" he snarls, "You need to pay attention. Your first concert with us is next weekend."

I breathe out tentatively and step away from the mic, my blank eyes staring back at him. Without another word, I turn my gaze to Jackie, who looks on the verge of giving London an extremely colorful speech. Her eyes were burning into his skull.

"Jackie," I sigh, gaining her attention, "Take me home."

The boys go silent but I paid them no mind as I grabbed my backpack. Jackie followed my pursuit.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" London hisses. I catch the hint of fear in his tone and sigh. I guess they all have a right to be a little paranoid.

"I," I huffed, "am going home. I need a short break."

The mood instantly lifted in the room, Brendan let out a subtle sigh of relief. London broke the peaceful atmosphere with a grunt.

"I am the band captain," he spits, "I decide when you get a fucking break."

"London, I think she more than deserves a break," Brendan sighs exasperated but it fell on deaf ears as we glared at each other.

"You are an asshole," I bite out, "You need to deal with your freaking anger problems. You need to stop barking orders at me as if I'm some sort of slave."

I huff and grab Jackie by the wrist. I catch the proud and amused smirk on her face and roll my eyes. I turn back to a stunned London and narrowed my eyes, "Get your shit together before practice tomorrow. Whatever it is that's got you in this mood has nothing to do with me."

I waved goodbye to Brendan, Ken and Luke, who all seemed amused at the situation, and marched out the door with Jackie in tow. All the while, I felt the intensity of London's stare, burning into the back of my head.

~

London...

As soon as the door closed behind Melany my eye twitched, anger boiling through my veins but also something else that I couldn't put my finger on. My eyes lingered on the door longer than I thought because the next thing I know, a strong grip turns me around.

Brendan let go of my arm, a questioning, no-nonsense look he usually only wore for me was painted heavily on his features. I knew I couldn't avoid the topic much longer. The boys have been dying to know what exactly my problem was.

I knew Melany was right, I knew she had nothing to do with that godawful postcard but I couldn't bring myself to care. The worn-out look on her face didn't move me one bit. All I have left is this band, my band and now that she's part of it she will need to get used to getting yelled at.

With a drawled-out sigh, I pulled out the 4-day-old postcard and held it out to my three closest friends. The side with the written words was in their view.

"Say hi to your new step-mom?" Ken read, his voice incredulous. Luke was silent but Brendan hit me with a steely glare through his glasses. He knew there was more. I turned over the card with a scowl. Seconds later, the now quiet music room lit up with three shocked gasps.

"No fucking way," Ken mumbles, a deadly edge to his voice.

"She married Julius," I bit out, "The other person was my fucking father."

"I don't understand," Luke breathes out finally breaking his silence. He gingerly pulls the postcard away from my fingers and I let out a painfully humorless laugh, the despised feeling of my burning eyes fuelling my anger.

"What is there to fucking understand, Luke? She married Julius, knowing what he did!" I was on a rage quest and Brendan knew that all too well. I haven't had one in the past three years, I almost forgot what it felt like.

"Lon-"

"She never fucking loved me, Luke! She played me! There's nothing to fucking understand!"

I kicked at the speakers, toppling them over, and jumped off the stage. The loud thud of my feet hitting the ground cut off whatever Luke was about to say to me as I ignored my friends and stormed down the empty halls of Greenhall Academy.

My feet were taking me to a very familiar special hallway, one I've frequented during my many days at this school from my very first year here. The dark colors of the hallway cast a shadow around me.

My legs went directly for the glass cases that held the pictures of past and present alumni of Greenhall that are deceased. I gulped, my throat squeezing as I got to the graduating year I was looking for, my eyes immediately meeting bright identical dark blue ones.

Her long black hair was up in a ponytail, her smile huge as she stood next to my grandparents, her certificate held proudly in her arms against her green uniform.

The picture, in a frame sporting the iconic dark shade of our uniform's pearl green was engraved at the bottom.

Darlina Governor-Morse Feb 27th 1977- August 15th 2005

My eyes burned, staring at the engraving. This is the first time I've visited my mother in two years. Her picture that is. I will need to go see her at her resting place soon.

My rage quest seemed to fade to the back of my mind the moment I laid eyes on her. She was my only solace for a long time, that was until I met Jessica.

"Mother, " I whisper to her smiling face, "I'm so lost without you."

I rest my forehead against the cold glass, my hands laying flat on either side of my head. A traitorous tear escaped from the constraints of my tear ducts and rolled down my cheek.

"Why did you have to leave me," I whisper again, "I miss you terribly."

I got no answer. I almost laughed at myself for expecting one. It was just me here, talking to a picture of my dead mum who I'll never be able to hold again.