38
CAMPBELL
Blaire left.
The city.
The state.
Me.
And all I wanted was to get her back.
She’d told me to stay in LA. I had to be in the studio anyway for the rest of the week. I had obligations. But how the hell did they expect me to play the love songs I’d been working on the last couple months? The ones that were about her beautiful face and kissing her perfect lips and wanting nothing but to bind my life to her?
So, I said f**k it to the love songs.
I refused to work on them in the studio. And I wrote as if in a fever dream, of all my pain and heartbreak over her leaving. I wrote five songs in a matter of days. Delirious and desperate, I handed the lyrics off to the band, and we did nothing but burn through the pain. All day, every day, rehearsing the songs that I could already
