I Never Should Have Let You Go

Work on my second album started early the next day. The stack of papers sitting on the passenger seat of my car were lyrics, and rough copies of songs that I wanted to be on the record.

Most of them were slow and ballad like, but there were a few party tracks included.

My producer, John Fields, and my band members, John C, Brenden, Reese and Tyler were waiting inside Studio number 5. The boys were tuning their instruments and chatting loudly.

As soon as they saw me through the glass, they came running. Brenden the drummer screamed, scooping me up into his tanned arms.

"We missed you!" Reese exclaimed, yanking off my red Converse and throwing them at the ceiling.

They were such happy guys, and I wanted to smile, I honestly did, but lately I hadn't even been feeling the need to get out of bed in the morning.

"I missed you guys too." I smiled, fixing up my jeans when I was firmly back on the ground.

I waved at John, passing him the papers before slipping into the sound-proof booth and making myself comfortable on the stool.

The guys took their places behind their equipment; John C on bass, Brenden and his drums, Reese with a keyboard, and Tyler on percussion.

Adjusting the heavy headphones sitting upon my head, I nodded at John through the screen.

He leant forward, pressed a button on his panel of many, and spoke into a microphone.

"Let's try the Stop The World song. It's got great lyrics and awesome chords as well. John, start with a E--"

His voice was cut off by the sound of my chair hitting the floor. I'd stood up suddenly and accidentally kicked it over.

I'd never put that stupid song in that pile, and I sure as heck wasn't going to record it.

"No." I refused, shaking my head stubbornly. "I am not singing that."

John Fields looked stunned and waved around the sheet. "Ah, hello? Cianna, this is what you wanted to do. These are the songs you want to sing right?"

"Yes, but--" I protested, looking at Brenden for help in this time of need. He just shrugged, tapping his drumstick on the snare absentmindedly.

"Well look Cianna, I don't mean to be crude, but we really don't have time to waste here. What's the paper doing in the pile if you don't want to sing it?"

Gulping, I thought back to earlier in the morning. Megan had stopped in for breakfast while walking her dog. We sat at the table, and my lyrics and thing were right there, being weighted down by the fruit bowl. She was the type of person to do such a thing. And I was the type of person to not check that things I did not want were not included.

"I--Nick and I wrote that song together and I haven't got his permission to use it." I stammered, picking at the tacky looking chipped black nailpolish on my right hand.

"Well I'll just call him and ask. Is that fine by you?" John F asked, pulling his mobile phone from his jacket.

Nodding weakly, I watched as he punched in the numbers, and put the device to his ear.

"John?" I called quietly, emerging from the soundproof area.

He looked up from scribbling squares on a notepad.

"Can I talk to him?"

John shrugged, passing me the phone. As soon as I put the phone up to hear it ringing, Nick's voice floated through.

"Hey man! What's up?"

My band members were all looking at me quizzically, so I walked outside and stood in the snow.

"Hello? John?" he called. There was a soft chatter in the background, and I heard Kevin yelling at Joe for hitting Danielle in the head with a hackeysack.

"Nick, it's me." I breathed. I wanted to hang up so desperately, my finger was even hovering over the disconnect button.

"What? Hello? John? Dude? Um okay then."

"Nick, it's Cianna." I rushed, my grip tightening around the hunk of plastic.

His venomous reply was spat out like poison. "Oh. What do you want?"

"How are you?" I blurted. Did he miss me? Did he dump Sarah after he realised he should be with me? Was he reconsidering proposing again? I'd sure as heck say yes.

"I'm great. Never better. What about you? Sleeping around as usual I expect."

My throat stung with unshed emotions. "No, just staying low. I'm in the studio, and I need to ask you something."

His nasty laugh echoed. "Have you finally come to realise that you're a hopeless singer and want to admit I'm much better?"

I closed my eyes, reopening to find a watery glaze swept over them.

"Can I record Stop The World and put it on my album please?" I requested, my voice quivering.

Nick snorted, and chuckled loudly. "Sure, just don't put me in the writing credits because those fricking lyrics don't mean a thing to me anymore."

"Oh, um, thanks." I smiled. "I really appreciate it."

"Yeah, well I'd really appreciate it if I could get off this damn phone and make out with Sarah."

He was obviously still with her.

Hang onto this conversation, I willed myself.

"I just want to wish you luck on your solo album. You'll sound great for sure."

"Look, don't want to talk to you, don't want to know you, don't call me ever again. Bye."

"I love you." I cried, waiting to hear the dial tone once more.

"My God, if this had been a few weeks ago, I would've killed to hear you say that. But this is now Cianna, and we're over. Unfixable mistakes were made."

The tears were rolling down my cheeks freely. "Nick we can fix them, if you just let me back into your life again." I pleaded.

"I can't. And I don't wish I could either. We were stupid to get together and our so called relationship is something we should just live and let die." he said gently.

I could imagine him toying with that stray curl at the nape of his neck. He would always pull at it when he was stressed, or tired.

"I don't want to Nick. I love you. And I'm sorry. Don't let go of us." I begged, sinking to the ground and sitting on the cold wet snow in a heaped mess. "Have you ever heard the quote; he who tries to forget a woman never loved her? Did you not love me? Did you just proposed because you were scared of your dad?"

The answers to those questions were well needed. They could help me to repair, recover, acting like a glue to a ripped sheet of cardboard.

"When did I ever say I loved you? And don't even ask why I proposed. It was stupid. But anyway, Sarah and I are something really good, and she's great."

"Was I not great?" I whispered. The sound of the door clicking shut, caused me to spin around. Tyler was smiling at me sorrowfully.

"I-uh, yeah I'll be right down! Gotta go, Frankie wants me to do something. Bye!"

The line went dead and I buried my head under Tyler's arm.

What had I done wrong?