All Chapters of Blunt Pain: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

NorthHe looked at the group photo on his phone. Axl stood with his arm around Aspen’s shoulders, and they were all smiling, their eyes shining with excitement. The past two weeks had gone by so fast, and now they had graduated. Axl and Aspen were leaving soon, and he and Charlotte were packing their bags, as well. The picture felt unreal in his hand, like proof of a life that already belonged to another version of himself—one that had existed before contracts, cameras, rings, and carefully arranged smiles.He wanted to get out of Esperton, go somewhere they could relax before they had to settle in at Harvard. Charlotte had been accepted, as well, and she was going to study law. For the next few weeks though, they were free to do as they pleased. Free was a strange word these days—thin and fragile—but he clung to it anyway, the way people clung to the idea of daylight during a storm.Charlotte appeared in the doorway and cleared her throat. She’d been walking on eggshells the last two

MeritHer lower lip trembled as she looked at Weston. Tears gathered in her eyes and she shook her head. Everything was falling apart.“You ruined my life.”“That’s a little dramatic, Merit, but expected, coming from you.” He was still standing next to the kitchen counter.“I’ve lost everything because of you,” she whispered.He chuckled, the sound dark and bitter. “You made a choice, Merit. You came to me. You wanted me to keep Axl out of jail and you offered up information on all your friends. You did that. You’re not a victim in this story, little girl. I would’ve kept Axl out of jail even without the information you traded.”Merit lowered her head. “He hates me.”“You did that to yourself. I never forced you to take your clothes off. It wasn’t even part of the deal, not that I’m complaining.”More tears welled up in her eyes and she sniffed. “How could you do all this to your sons?”“You did it to them, too. This thing between us will come to an end now. North is married, and Axl

AxlHe still felt high from the previous day. They had another meeting with Calum Phillips today, and he had rolled around the previous night, unable to sleep. His body felt restless, charged with nervous energy, as if the sound from yesterday’s stage was still echoing beneath his skin. Aspen slept through everything, and at three a.m., he finally got up, realizing he wouldn’t be able to sleep, and pulled his clothes on.He drove his car the few miles it took to get to the beach and took his shoes off. The water was cold, but his mind was a million miles away. The sand was damp beneath his feet, the air heavy with salt and early-morning mist, and the world felt strangely quiet for a city that never truly slept. He blinked away the welled-up tears and shoved his hands in his pockets. He had no idea what Calum was going to offer them, but they’d been told that there would be an offer. This was his dream, and he felt so many emotions at once that, for a split second, he couldn’t even bre

Blunt PainThe rehearsal room smelled like sawdust, sweat, and old cables. The air felt heavy and stale, thick with heat trapped between concrete walls and humming amplifiers, the kind of room that swallowed sound and nerves in equal measure.Axl stood in the centre of the studio. It wasn’t lavish, just practical. Bare bulbs buzzed faintly overhead, casting dull shadows over scuffed floors and taped-down cables that crisscrossed like battle lines. His guitar hung low against his hip while Leon adjusted the height of his violin stand near the wall.Jack was already behind the drum kit, spinning a stick through his fingers like he needed something to do with his hands before his nerves swallowed him whole. He tried to look relaxed, but his eyes betrayed him. They darted toward the door once, then to Axl, then back to the snare.Rihon sat on the edge of an amp, bass balanced across his knees, quietly plucking a slow line. Nobody spoke. The silence pressed against Axl’s ears harder than a

Blunt PainThe first venue was worse than Calum had promised. The stage was barely raised. The monitors crackled. The lighting rig flickered like it might die at any moment. The crowd didn’t care. Not yet. They wore their own clothes, because the label wasn’t spending a cent more on them than they had to. It was just how it worked. Axl didn’t care. He preferred being comfortable.The room smelled faintly of stale beer and hot dust, the kind of place where the sound bounced instead of settled. It wasn’t the best venue, but Axl also knew it wasn’t the worst.Axl stood just behind the curtain, guitar already strapped over his shoulder. He emptied the water bottle in his hand and cleared his throat. Jack paced in a tight line behind the drum kit, muttering to himself about the shitty venue. Rihon rolled his shoulders, loosening his hands. Leon leaned against the wall. His violin was in his hands.They’d argued about it. Rihon and Jack had voted against Leon adding his own flair. Axl loved