Pretty Little Disaster

3 months ago

“We can’t keep doing this, Willa,” Zane said. Willa was shocked. The guy she’d fought desperately to keep was seemingly ending their tumultuous relationship, and she hated every minute of it.

But she didn’t argue. There were things bigger than them. Bigger than their love. If they wanted to succeed, Willa knew she had to let Zane go.

“We’re bandmates first. Lovers never.”

Willa watched as Zane walked out of her hotel room, eyes filled with water. She didn’t let the tears fall because that was child’s play to her.

If she wanted to let her feelings out, she was going to channel them in the only way she knew how.

In a song.

~

1 week later

Relationships come and go. Friendships, partners, and family, too. Willa was used to losing things that meant the most to her, but that didn’t mean she had to accept it.

Growing up, Willa was always bubbly, making friends with just about anyone. She wore her heart on her sleeve, not as armor, but as a badge. One she was proud to carry around because to her, the world could use a little more love.

So when the one person she loved the most started to give up on everything they’ve worked for, it broke something in her. The pain she felt wasn’t something that was going to pass. It was deep, eternal, the one thing she never saw herself healing from.

But she had to be strong. She was the lead singer of Misconstrued after all. The one who brought joy to every rehearsal. The girl who shone bright on the stage, no matter how small.

Willa didn’t spend the last two years perfecting her craft for nothing. Now was the time for Misconstrued to finally get the recognition that they deserved. And the song she had on hand was going to be the way to do it.

It took her a week, her tears staining nearly every piece of paper she wrote on. But she finally got to the end.

The words were pointed. There were certain clues only one person would understand, and that’s exactly what she wanted. She knew talking wasn’t going to be enough to change his mind.

No, the only way to get through to a guy like Zane Mercer was through music. It was his love language. A skill that was more than just a hobby, and Willa was going to exploit it.

David Monroe, Davey to Willa, sat by his drum kit ready for the impromptu rehearsal. Jeremy Hart, her brother Jerm, was tuning his bass as Willa walked to the middle of the stage.

Willa was never one to call for a rehearsal despite being the leading woman, but today was important. They were in the middle of working on their debut album, Pretty Little Disaster, and Willa thought the song she wrote was bound to be their greatest breakout single.

The only one not paying attention, as she wished, was Zane. She watched as his jaw tightened, fingers strumming to make sure he was ready to go.

Watching him, Willa wasn’t sure that her attempt to get him to understand her feelings would go over well. Their relationship was meant to be a secret. Putting everything out there for the world to hear was bound to bring repercussions.

Something Willa was willing to risk.

“Alright, Willa, you called us here.” Jeremy’s eyes shifted. “What’s the news?”

Willa bit her lip, holding the folded-up piece of paper behind her. “I wrote a song,” she beamed.

“Holy shit!” David shouted. “You co-wrote, or is this a solo-dolo type of situation?”

Willa shook her head. “It’s a solo thing, but we can all take credit.” She grabbed the mic, scanning the paper as if she didn’t know the lyrics by heart already.

“Hold on, I’m not taking credit for something I ain’t write.” Willa knew Jeremy would say something like that. She assumed it was because he was territorial about his work, not because he wasn’t proud of her.

Still, she ignored him, the nerves gradually building as she got ready to share her thoughts with her closest friends.

The one who was making her most worried was Zane. He still hadn’t said a thing, and Willa was sick of worrying about what he was thinking, if he was thinking at all.

Willa not only saw the distance he was putting between them, but she felt it too.

Late-night conversations, gone.

Good luck, hand squeezes before a set, depleted.

The only thing Willa had left that was sacred between them was music.

It wasn’t about changing his mind or the outcome, but about Zane hearing what she felt, how she saw their relationship. It wasn’t a burden to her; it was magnetic. A kind of pull she wouldn’t be able to feel with just anyone.

Willa rolled her eyes at Jeremy’s words, not having time for his antics. “Just listen,” she breathed.

She took one more glance at Zane, who was still silent, but Willa knew he was ready. His head was down, breathing lightly because that was how he operated. Willa didn’t think he’d immediately catch that the song was about him—them. But if anyone could figure out a good melody, it’d be Zane.

Getting into the first verse, Willa watched as the boys listened intently. The verse wasn’t as direct as the chorus, her eyes capturing Zane again as his head swayed just barely.

But when she dropped the first line of the pre-chorus, Willa could see that it was the breaking point.

“You said red meant stop, but you were flushed in pink,” she sang, the colors lining up to match their favorites. “Said we crossed the line, but it was hardly a mistake.”

Almost immediately, the sound of a riff hammered through the air around them. It was aggressive, challenging even. And that’s when Willa grasped that Zane understood.

She didn’t back down, singing every word at him like a demand. He fired back, playing faster, stronger, louder as Willa watched the sweat beads dripping from his face.

Willa was always impressed by how Zane could hear a few words and already know what chords to play. Without him, Misconstrued wouldn’t begin to exist.

But Willa could tell this was different. He wasn’t just playing to find the melody; Zane was responding to her.

She felt pain in the way he strummed—the confusion bleeding through his stance.

This wasn’t some ordinary song. It had the power to take them to new heights or destroy the very thing they’ve all worked so hard for.

”Cause if it all meant nothing,” Willa pressed as Zane dragged out his final riff. “Why won’t you stop, syncing up with me?”

As she let out the last line, Zane tossed his guitar on the stage floor and took his exit.

Willa looked at the guitar on the ground, thinking he must’ve been upset. She’s never known Zane to treat his instrument so carelessly. The words hit deeper than anticipated, creating an animosity Willa wasn’t prepared for.

Jeremy, hip to their relationship, started getting overprotective, much to Willa’s dismay.

“Okay, what happened?” He pestered. “Is there something going on between you two again?”

Willa’s brows furrowed. “What? No,” she lied. “Maybe he’s having a bad day.”

“Bullshit, Willa,” Jeremy argued. “I’ve warned you about this too many times before.”

“Jerm, relax. Nothing's happening,” she assured him, as much as she wished something was going on other than heartache.

“Yeah, Jerm, relax,” David joined in. “Did you not just hear that banger of a song? Zane, as usual, already found the melody. With our contributions, I think we have a hit on our hands.”

Willa smiled, looking at David with wide eyes. Even though he was oblivious to the drama, Willa loved David’s ear. His sound was fluid, indicating a deeper understanding of what was good and what wasn’t.

“You really think so?” Willa wondered, her heart thumping excitedly.

David smiled, twirling his sticks between his fingers. “Damn right! So long as Zane gets his attitude in check.”

Willa had no doubt Zane would get it together. He was like their producer, having credits on many of the songs they’ve recorded before.

However, if he couldn’t get past the words, the underlying message that painfully slipped off her lips, Willa thought it could be the end of their journey on the tip of fame.

Willa couldn’t see Misconstrued working with 3 people. They weren’t built that way. They needed 4, and Zane was a big part of that 4.

She was starting to think she may have messed up. Singing her feelings could’ve been the thing Zane was talking about. Why their relationship would never work. If Willa were too emotionally centered, there was no future for them or their band.

She could tell Jeremy wasn’t sold, but he was always supportive. “Alright, let’s get to work.” He draped his arm around Willa’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. “Good job, little sis.”

Willa beamed with pride, not fully realizing the heights this song was going to bring them.