Sometimes, as the days passed by me, I wondered if anything could repair what I had done. I was losing hope. I had fucked up the one chance I had with the most amazing girl in the world and I was at a loss as to what to do next.

There had been plenty of opportunities to move forward. Blondes. Brunettes. Redheads. At every gig. At every meet and greet. Hell, even the thirty-something receptionist at the bus charter company offered me her cell number on a post-it note attached to our charter agreement.

Then, in Virginia, when I’d returned to the edge-of-town motel we were staying at, I’d flung open the door to see a girl waiting naked for me in my bed. How the hell she’d known it was my room was beyond me. I was learning that some of these girls would do crazy shit given the opportunity and side stepping them was getting exhausting.

But I wasn’t interested in moving forward. I had tried and I couldn’t. I was in love with the only girl I could ever imagine sharing my life with. And I wasn’t prepared to risk that for anyone else.

Granted, the only one girl I was interested in actually hated me.

But there would be no one else.

While in Seattle during the festival tour, Armie had insisted we visit Renton and the childhood home of his idol, Jimi Hendrix, only to find it had been torn down. “Fuckers,” Armie had yelled disillusioned that the sacred site had been razed. “Let’s go get a drink as a salute to Jimi.”

So he and I had gone into town and found a bar where Armie had toasted Jimi for both of us with several bourbons. As we walked back to our car we passed a jewelry store down a little side street. It was a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it type place with a small display window out the front and a small, skinny front door with peeling paint and a rusty door knob. But something drew me to the window and there, right there, in the middle of all the other items was the ring. The one I would one day slip onto Harlow’s finger when I made her my girl, permanently.

If she ever stopped hating me.

“Dude, seriously? She thinks you’re an asshole.”

I loved Armie for his brutal honesty.

“I know, and she’d never say yes to me in a million years,” I said, staring at the stunning diamond and platinum piece. But it was too beautiful not to have. And I knew I would search for a hundred years and never find a ring more perfect for Harlow. It was just like her; one in a million.

“Well she won’t ever say yes if you never ask her,” Armie said looking at the window display through thick-rimmed glasses. He was a vision of dark spiky hair and black clothing against the stark white timber of the jewelry store. He tapped at the window as if there was a puppy on the other side. “Some things are too precious to walk away from.”

I didn’t know if he was referring to the ring or if his observations included Harlow. I never asked him, but I had the feeling he was telling me to go for it.

The ring cost me almost more than I would make on the tour, but just having it made me feel closer to the girl I was crazy about. I couldn’t explain it. I just had to have it. For her. Even when hope for us was fading.

Now we were back in town and I still hadn’t seen or heard from her and the ring was tucked safely in my sock drawer.

I wasn’t going to push my luck and force her to see me. I wasn’t in a position to piss her off any more. So the plan was to let time slip by and let the Universe take over. If I kept my faith in us, then somehow we would work this out.

“So have you thought about how you’re going to ask her?” Armie had whispered to me before we went on stage.

“I have to work out how I am going to get her to talk to me first. Let alone marry me,” I replied.

The show was over, it was just after one in the morning and I yawned. It had been a good night but I was feeling the onset of fatigue.

While on tour, we had landed a recording contract with a major label. Things were finally starting to happen for Vengeance and there was a potent enthusiasm within the band. Armie had written a lot of material on the road and we were keen to get into the studio and start creating our second album.

We had booked a studio for the next morning, which was only hours away, to work on recording the album and I wanted to start with a clear head.

My car keys jingled in my hands. “I’m ready to call it a night. Who wants a ride home?”

Jesse, Piper and Armie decided to come with me. Tommy had already left with his new girlfriend Saskia, and Zack was heading home with a girl called Jane, who was his every-now-and-again girl.

Armie was a little drunk but talked excitedly about starting in the studio. We were on the verge of something exciting happening to the band. This was our shot at the big time and we were all ready.

The car park was almost deserted as we left the bar. The night had wrapped up and the people were gone. The lack of heat in the air was a solemn reminder that summer was almost over.

As we headed towards the Challenger along the side of the road, Armie started to goof around. Jesse and Piper walked ahead of us, their arms around one another as Jesse smoked. Seeing them together and so into each other opened the hole in my chest. It was times like these, when the day was winding down and it was time to turn in, when I missed my girl the most. I let myself think for a moment of how much I wished I was going home to her arms, and how badly I wanted to curl myself around her warm body as I fell asleep. Then I forced the thought away. Because I ached too much when I thought shit like that.

“Dude, check this …” Armie was attempting a handstand with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. But he was a little too intoxicated and fell flat on his face. I burst out laughing. You could always rely on Armie for some comic relief.

Jesse and Piper paused and turned to watch him.

“You’re such a gymnast,” Jesse joked.

Armie picked himself up and attempted another handstand only to fail once again. He paused on the road to pick up his cigarette.

“Let’s go Mary Lou Retton,” I said.

The light appeared from nowhere. One moment it was dark and the road was deserted, the next moment the bright light hit us. I heard the roar of the engine, the sudden screech of brakes and then the brilliant brightness of car headlights as they descended upon us.

* * * * *

HARLOW

It took me a moment to realize my phone was ringing. I fumbled in the dark and answered it.

Straight away I heard sobbing. “Harlow. It’s Piper.”

“Piper? Why are you crying?”

“You have to come down to the hospital.”

Fear tingled up my spine. I quickly sat up and turned on the bedside lamp.

“What’s happened? Are you hurt?”

There was more sobbing and anxiety prickled across my body.

Please God, let Heath be okay.

“He’s dead Harlow …” Piper’s voice broke.

I sucked in a deep breath and held it.

Not Heath. Please don’t let it be Heath.

“There was a car. We were walking –” Piper broke off sobbing and I clutched the phone. I felt sick.

“Who died Piper? Who?” The sharpness in my voice surprised me and I realized I was speaking through gritted teeth. My heart stuttered and missed a beat.

She sobbed and sniffed. “Armie’s dead, Harlow. Armie’s goddamn dead.”

Within twenty minutes I was running through the doors of the emergency department. Tears streaked down my face. They’d started in the car and I’d be damned if I could get them to stop.

I found Jesse in the waiting room with his head in his hands as Piper comforted him. She looked up when I walked in, her eyes red from crying. She jumped up and hugged me with a sob. I bit back more tears as she broke from our embrace and looked up at me, her face tear stained, her nose swollen from wiping it.

“What happened?” I asked quietly.