03/27/2019
Rogue hadn't been back to the studio since the tour ended early, coming back through the back door to head to the elevator up to the third floor for her room.
She listened to the music playing in the studios below, quietly making it to her room without a noise.
It wasn't that she was trying to sneak in to her own studio, she just had kept to herself and hadn't been around people as much.
Closing the bedroom door behind her, she leaned against the wood door and let out a shaky breath.
"One step at a time, Rogue. This is your empire. You and Irad started this, it's still a home for you, it can still be a safe place. You're just here to grab a few things and leave.."
She told herself this, regaining her composure before turning to grab the leather duffel bag from the closet to fill with writing materials and clothes she had left over.
Photos of her tour surrounded the walls, and she was thankful for the soundproofing they had done on the entire building.
Nobody was going to hear her scream out her frustration, or the crash her lamp made against the opposite wall as it shattered when she threw it. She had been telling everyone that she was fine, she was alive and had survived.
But the reality was she was just lying to save face. She wasn't okay. She had almost died, again, and people she cared about had been there to witness it.
She was afraid, the thought of it happening again terrifying her to the point she wanted to hide away. As if hiding from the world would make things better.
When she was done, her room was a mess. Glass on the floor, lightbulb shattered overhead, the shelves which held her stuffed animals broken and falling to pieces on her bed.
Even her guitar had become a victim in the process, the strings poking in every which way.
Shaking her head at her own episode, she marched out of the room with her bag and slammed it shut. She wasn't going to let the nightmares or shooting deter her from her life. She wasn't going to let the thoughts creep back into her mind, keeping her from doing what she wanted.
Heading back to the first floor, she walked to an empty studio and locked the door. Nothing had been written out, nothing had been planned. She just turned on a beat she had been hiding and let the words come as they may.
When it was over, "BabyFace" was born again.
