"The ways you left me dreaming, 

Compose a lonely contradiction,  

Inside my mind, I scream for you, 

You don't know my affliction."                                                     

- Bach's Revenge debut album, track 5

 Well, that couldn't have gone worse if he'd planned it. It was like some twisted  Hollywood script. He was the underdog and she'd kicked him while he was down.  He'd thought about the moment for two years. Two. Freakin. Years. Never once, did he even allow himself to consider it would end like this.  

Good thing Mitch wasn't around or Sebastian would've throttled him, for no  other reason than the fact that the guy woke up and took a breath that morning.  

His feet felt like he wore fifty pound cement blocks on each of them. Every step  to his car a monumental effort. His chest was heavy--maybe it was trying to crush  whatever part of his heart might have been left intact.  He drove fast, too fast, to Sawyer's house. He wanted to break something and if  anyone would understand that, it'd be Sawyer. The garage door was open and the lights  were on. Good. Sebastian brought the car to a screeching halt, practically tearing his  body in half trying to exit the vehicle. When did he put his seatbelt on? 

He slammed the door shut. "Shit."  

When he turned toward the garage, Sawyer's distinct silhouette stood in the  door, a lit cigarette between his lips. "Hey," he said. "You all right?"  

Sebastian weaved his hands into his hair and began to pace up and down the  driveway. "No."  

Sawyer's lip twisted in a half smirk. "She kicked you to the curb before you set  foot on the sidewalk, didn't she?" 

Sebastian flew forward just as Sawyer removed the cigarette from his lips and  flicked it to the side. When Sebastian reached him, his left hand gripped the collar of  Sawyer's shirt, his other arched in the air in a clenched fist. He could see Lane seated in  the garage, in the corner of his eye, preparing to stand up and intervene.  Sawyer smirked. "G'head. Hit me if it will make you feel better. I get it. But I'm  not the one you're mad at."  

He was right. Sebastian released his grip and dropped his hand. Sawyer yanked  at his collar, righting it before turning and sauntering into the garage. "C'mon. Have a  beer, yeah? It'll make you feel better."  

Lane was already at the fridge, retrieving the beverages. He handed one to  Sebastian. "Sorry. That sucks."  

Sebastian mumbled something incoherent, took his beer and flopped down on  the sofa. The springs were old, without much give and he almost winded himself.  

Sawyer reached into his pocket for another smoke, lighting it, before sitting  down beside him. Lane moved back and sat on the milk carton, clearing his throat.  "You okay?"  

"He's just ducky," Sawyer volunteered.  

"I'm fine. I'll be fine," Sebastian lied. "I-I-I just didn't see that coming." He took a  swig of his beer, bitter and cold it moved down his throat. He hoped it would somehow  quash the fire in his chest.  

Tossing his Rubik's cube in the air, Sawyer caught it. "Not every chick can want  you man."  

"She's not every chick--"  

"Ignore him," Lane said. "Sawyer just has no idea what it means to love  somebody other than himself. He never will."  

Sawyer didn't dignify Lane with any response, turning to Sebastian. "Listen. She  doesn't want you. It's not what you wanted, but it is what it is, yeah? I say forget her.  

You don't need some chick distracting you, man. You need to focus on the thing you're  best at. Music. Making music. Making us famous. Take all this-whatever it is you're feeling-and write a song, write two. It'll probably be the best thing that you've ever  put on paper."  

Sebastian stood. Sawyer was right. "Yeah," he said. "I'll see you around."  

Lane followed him from the garage, digging into his pocket. He retrieved a  shard that looked like someone took a mega mouth jawbreaker and sliced it as if it  were a round brick of cheese. The outside was rough, like sandpaper, but the inside  shimmered with shiny layers. "Here," Lane handed it to him. "It's agate."  

Sebastian held it to his eye to examine it. "What's it for?"  

Lane smiled. "It eliminates negativity. Promotes clarity, perception."  

Sebastian laughed. Lane believed in all things metaphysical. Auras, chi's yin,  yang, all of it. Maybe the guy was onto something though, he was unquestionably the most balanced person Sebastian knew.  

"Thanks," he said. "I'll let you know if it works."  

"Oh," Lane spoke confidentially, "it will."  

Charlie lay on her bed with her knees tucked to her chest. She wasn't sure how long  she'd been crying. Sebastian had walked away some time ago, but her eyes were too  blurry to see the clock. A horrible emptiness filled the pit of her stomach every time she  thought of his face. She wished he'd never said anything.  

Her phone vibrated on the nightstand. It was reminding her she had seven  unanswered text messages from Mitch. Seven. He'd stopped sending new ones about  half an hour ago, she guessed.  She closed her eyes and willed the phone to stop vibrating, willed the clock to  reverse itself. She wished she could go back to yesterday when Sebastian was still just  Sebastian, her best friend, not her secret admirer.  

Her thoughts were interrupted by the bedroom door creaking open. She brought  the hem of her shirt up, to wipe away the stream of tears on her face.  

"Baby?" Mitch's voice was low. "Are you here?"  

Charlie nodded even though he couldn't see her.  

Mitch's silhouette entered the room and he rushed to sit on the bed beside her.  

"Charlie, what's wrong?"  

No words came. She wasn't about to tell him Sebastian had just declared his love  for her. That he'd more or less said Mitch's affections didn't even come close. She just  shook her head and continued to cry.  

Mitch sucked in a breath and glanced at the door. Resigned to his duty as her  boyfriend, he began to rub small circles on her back with his hand. "Babe, what  happened?"  

Through horrible, wrenching sobs, she managed. "I had a huge fight with  Sebastian." That was the best way she could word it without admitting what happened.  

The concerned expression Mitch wore faded into sympathy. "Aw, don't cry. I'm  sure everything is going to be fine."  

"It's not," Charlie told him. "It's not ever going to be fine."  

Mitch brushed a tangled mess of wet hair away from her face and tucked it  gently behind her ear. "Don't be silly. Sebastian and you can't go like two days without  seeing each other. I'm sure whatever it is you fought about will work itself out."  

Charlie didn't feel like repeating herself so she just shook her head.  

At her declaration, Mitch gave a heavy sigh. "Is there anything I can do? I mean, I  could call him, smooth things over if you'd like."  

"No!" She replied too quickly. "No, please don't call him."  

Oblivious, he shrugged. "Okay."  

Mitch's offer sobered her suffering. She sat up. "Can you please get me a glass of  water?"  

"Yeah babe, of course."  

He stood and headed to the bathroom. When she heard the water running, she  picked up her phone to see if Sebastian had texted anything. Or called. But he'd done  neither. She swiped at her face a second time before removing the tear soaked t-shirt  and grabbing another. By the time Mitch returned with her water, she was back on the  bed again.  

"Here you go."  

"Thank you." She took the glass from him and as she drank, she pondered how  she could ask Mitch without sounding pathetic or needy, but there was no real way  around it. Especially since she didn't want to be alone; left to suffer with the frozen  image of a heartbroken Sebastian replaying in her head. "Hey, Mitch?"  

"What?"  

"Would you please stay with me tonight?"  

Mitch looked down as if he were considering his choice of attire, but didn't  hesitate much longer than that. "Yes. Of course. I'll do anything for you, you know that,  right?"  

She nodded. The effort to speak was too great after crying for several hours.  Mitch moved and crawled into the bed and faced her. "You are so beautiful." His hand stroked her hair before moving to brush hisfingers across her lips. "Even when you're frowning."  

She gave him a small smile.  

"Do you want to talk about it?"  

She and moved her body closer to bury her face in his chest. His arm constricted  around her. Mitch was familiar. He was safe. He wasn't Sebastian.

His mom was on the phone when Sebastian got home. There was a God. Instead of  talking to her, he gave a nod and made his way up the stairs. His first stop was the  bedroom to retrieve his pajama pants and glasses.  

In the bathroom, he changed quickly and looked at himself in the mirror. The  mirror, intended to reflect an inarguable projection of oneself was hardly accurate. His  face looked frozen, each muscle of his body was connected to another, shifting as he ran  his hand through his messy hair, behind his glasses, his eyes were clear as a summer  sky. Everything he saw was in one piece, completely together. So why did he feel so  broken?  

He sighed, grabbed the agate from Lane out of his discarded jeans pocket and  headed for the bedroom. All he needed was his guitar, a piece of paper and a pen.  Sawyer was right. He needed to focus on music and nothing else. Charlie said she  didn't want him. She made it perfectly clear. Sebastian didn't like to dwell much, sure  as hell not on something like this.  

Sitting on his bed, he leaned against the headboard, turning the pegs on his  guitar and alternately strumming to tune the thing. He hummed along and before he  knew it, the chords where coming together on their own.  

He picked the pen up, pulling the cap off with his teeth, and began to scribble in  the notebook.  

She's everything and nothing 

My heart is lost forever

He huffed and wished for a moment Sawyer was there, packing his death factory  of cigarettes. He'd never smoked before, but right now it didn't seem like such a bad  idea. He closed his eyes and hummed the chords he'd just played, and asked the  Universe to give him something, anything to work with. He picked up the pen again  and steadied it in his hand.  

The ways you left me dreaming, 

Compose a lonely contraction, 

Inside my mind I scream for you, 

You don't know my affliction, 

Okay, that was definitely more like it.  

You can have what's left of me, 

With sickened satisfaction, 

Of all the things that you could be, 

You are my fatal attraction,  

As he continued to write, he could hear the lead guitar in the song, the beat of  the drums, the drone of the bass. If tonight was good for anything, this was it. His hand  moved across the paper faster than he could ever recall.  

I'm falling on my knees, 

Sinking in constriction, 

Inside my mind I scream for you, 

You don't know my affliction 

Swallowed whole by misery, 

I'll close my eyes and drown, 

You were the best part of me, 

And now I'm here face-down, 

My heart once whole is torn, 

Broken and so shattered, 

Soul is old and worn, 

You were all that mattered, 

You said you didn't want me, 

But you are my addiction, 

Inside my mind I scream for you, 

You don't know my affliction, 

The ways you left me dreaming, 

Compose a lonely contraction, 

Inside my mind I scream for you, 

You don't know my affliction. 

When he was done, he looked at his song. It was amazing that a few words  scribbled on a piece of paper spelled out his life. Almost as amazing as the strange  coincidence that Lane's rock for perception and clarity had worked.