Music Lights & Never Afters
Music Lights & Never Afters
C.L. Matthews
Published by C.L. Matthews, 2022.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Music Lights & Never Afters
Music | Lights | & Never | Afters
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Also By C.L. Matthews
© 2022 C.L. Matthews
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, copied or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without written expressed permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental.
Cover Design: Opulent Swag and Designs
Editors: Rumi Khan and Karen Washo
Proofreader: Nicki SG
The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows, and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as advertisement. Trademark names are used in an editorial fashion with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.
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Music
Lights
& Never
Afters
I won’t be a rock star,
I’ll be a legend.
- Freddy Mercury
Drugs not hugs.
- C.M. Radcliff
They say not to fear touch,
they must not know how cruel it can be.
- Madden Black
This book is dedicated to my razor blades,
for always being here for me when the world wasn’t.
Playlist
10 for 10 – Magnolia Park
Let Me Be Sad – I Prevail
Rainy Day – Ice Nine Kills
The Antidote – Simple Plan
Daddy Issues (Remix) – The Neighbourhood & Syd
The Downfall of Us All – A Day to Remember
A Grave Mistake – Ice Nine Kills
Cinema (Skrillex Remix) – Benny Benassi, Gary Go, Skrillex
Better Days – Dermot Kennedy
Heat Waves – Glass Animals
Hot Demon Bitches Near U – Corpse & Night Lovell
Another Life – Motionless in White
Drifting – NF
Lost – NF & Hopsin
Strange Love – Halsey
Pray – Jxdn
Feel Nothing – The Plot in You
Graveyard – Halsey
Quick Musical Doodles – Two Feet
Bad at Love – Halsey
Dim – SYML
All I Want – A Day to Remember
Some Will Seek Forgiveness, Others Escape – Underoath
One Day the Only Butterflies Left Will Be in Your Chest as You March Towards Your Death – Bring Me the Horizon & Amy Lee
You Had Me @ Hello – A Day After Tomorrow
Play Date – Melanie Martinez
Scars – I Prevail
You Stay by the Sea – Axel Flóvent
Letters to a Dead Friend – The Plot in You
Thank God It’s Friday – Ice Nine Kills
Hallelujah – Underoath
1x1 – Bring Me the Horizon
I'm Made of Wax, Larry, What Are You Made Of? – A Day to Remember
Forgive and Forget – A Day to Remember
Another Song About the Weekend – A Day to Remember
I Feel Like I’m Drowning – Two Feet
All Mine – Plaza
Not Just Breathing – The Plot in You
Soap – Melanie Martinez
MakeDamnSure – Taking Back Sunday
Stabbing in the Dark – Ice Nine Kills
Welcome to Horrorwood – Ice Nine Kills
A Part of Me – Neck Deep & Laura Whiteside
B.E.D. – Jacquees
Every Time You Leave – I Prevail
One Last Time – The Plot in You
Enemy – The Plot in You
Disposable Fix – The Plot in You
Too Heavy – The Plot in You
Dear Old Friend – The Plot in You
A Song About Myself – The Plot in You
Forgive Me – The Plot in You
Repay – The Plot in You
Feel Something – Illenium, Excision, I Prevail
My Heart I Surrender – I Prevail
We Will Meet Once Again – Josh Groban & Andrea Bocelli
All I Ask of You – Josh Groban & Kelly Clarkson
Ven a Mi – Andrea Bocelli & Matteo Bocelli
Bésame Mucho – Andrea Bocelli
Perfect Symphony – Ed Sheeran & Andrea Bocelli
E Più Ti Penso – Andrea Bocelli & Ariana Grande
The Prayer – Andrea Bocelli & Celine Dion
 
; You’ll Never Walk Alone – Andrea Bocelli & Celine Dion
If Only – Andrea Bocelli & Dua Lipa
I am Not a Woman, I’m a God – Halsey
Trigger Warnings
Self-harm, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, depression, anxiety, haphephobia, pseudo-incest, mild-cheating (not between the main characters), gaslighting, and isolation.
There are sexual situations with honorifics, sadism, masochism, humiliation, knife play, breeding fetishization, exhibitionism, gagging, drool play, blood play, edging, edge play, orgasm control/denial, belonephilia, intercrural sex, hematolagnia, voyeurism, degradation, wax play, anal play, rimming, pegging, and random object usage.
If you’re feeling suicidal or like you need to self-harm, there are places to help.
For self-harm crisis hotline: Text HOME to 741741
For the suicide crisis hotline: Call 1-800-273-8255
Chapter One
10 for 10 – Magnolia Park
Madden
Darkness overcoming the light was no longer a reach. Instead, it became the goal. I festered in a blanket of despair nine out of twelve months of a year, darkness was bound to be what I became. Light came in bouts, streaming in only when giving up felt like my only choice. What mayhem could I cause this time?
Being halfway through my senior year and fucking up seemed right on par with my usual faults. It didn’t help that I’d been bursting at the seams to beat someone’s flesh in.
Whenever my parents came home from tour, it made me want to be better.
Even if it was only temporary.
“Again?” Mom asked the morning following my expulsion, my fists hurt from the bone I’d beaten them into. Purple bruises encompassed the majority of my skin, the achiness I felt didn’t touch the anger that still festered from what I witnessed.
Mom wasn’t home to chastise me last night, so we were finally having a conversation about yesterday. She didn’t push for an explanation, instead, she questioned nonchalantly. Like usual, missing words and arguments. How did a kid grow or change without someone telling him what he did was wrong?
“What’s that?” I played coy, knowing exactly what she referenced. She wanted to know what the fuck I did this time to get expelled. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t appreciate the answer. Even while being valid, any type of attention on me worried her.
Styled in curly rivulets, her black hair looked professional but unapologetically untamed like she enjoyed life. She wore her signature pantsuit, something she didn’t appreciate, but being the manager of her own husband’s label made her regularly do things she didn’t enjoy.
Like abandoning her child to fend for himself.
Dad had a penchant for drugs, sex, and fangirls. Mom had to step in when it became too much. She was a babysitter and roadie all in one nowadays. I never understood their love for each other, but she didn’t ever give him up.
Mom grabbed a mug out of our cabinet, brewing herself a cup of coffee. Unlike most, she had this insane machine that made lattes. It felt unnecessary for something as simple as coffee.
Coffee was meant to be mediocre, plain black, with no sugar and a pinch of salt. Not for many, but I appreciated the simplicity of life’s offerings.
Starting up the machine, she put in her fancy settings, waiting as it brewed her way-too-intricate drink. She hummed along with the breadth of space between us. Mom might have been in love with a rock star, but she definitely was in her element at home—with me.
I wanted to ignore her previous question and pretend I didn’t fuck up once again. It sucked being the black sheep of my siblingless family. While my father constantly screwed up, making Mom’s job harder, I was the outcast.
She picked up the newspaper, reading the headlines, not paying me any mind. Who did that anymore? Digital news seemed to be the norm, but she and Dad seemed to subscribe to the paper anyway.
Rubbing my head with my chipped black painted nails, she watched me over her paper. We both tended to hide behind objects, not wanting confrontation and awkward situations. Maybe not really knowing each other, even while being mom and son, created a sense of shyness between us. Life was strange in that way. You could know someone your entire life and not really know them.
“This is the second time they expelled you from a high school, Toland. Last time, you got kicked out of Arcadia Crest—that school was nearly impossible to get you into in the first place. We still had to pay for the entire year and reparations for what you did. Hell, we moved because no one would take you after that stunt you pulled. What are we supposed to do at this point? You knew we were leaving on tour, and you got expelled. Again.”
Yet, Dad’s not even here.
Still.
He was more married to his work than his own wife. Mom always wanted to raise a better son, but when I defended girls being attacked or the losers—like me—who were belittled, she reprimanded me. Anything that could be perceived as bad by the public and could possibly make me visible to Dad’s fan base always made Mom uncomfortable. I grumbled silently in response.
No matter how far I went, the world didn’t know who Madden Black was.
“It’s no big deal, Mom. No one knows I exist.” She scoffed, watching me like a hawk.
“What's that?” Mom probed knowingly, repeating my coquettish response from earlier.
My anger rose, but I swallowed down the annoyance built on years of neglect as it tried overwhelming me. If they were around more, if people didn’t do stupid shit, if I didn’t get triggered at the simplest things... maybe life would’ve been different. Yet, here we were at an impasse. A place where there was no way to go.
“People shouldn't be dicks,” I finally responded with ease, unfelt. She smacked the back of my head with the newspaper, not to inflict pain but rather out of exasperation.
We had an agreement. I could swear as long as she couldn’t hear it. On the other hand, Dad congratulated my vocabulary. At least, when he decided to be present.
“Watch your mouth, Toland,” she chirped, adjusting her glasses. Her faux disappointment reminded me how she used to be here a lot more to actually reprimand me.
“You don't have to end every sentence with my name, Mom.”
A chuckle escaped her as she walked into the kitchen. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m well aware. It’s simply by habit at this point.”
“I always think I'm in trouble when you use my name.” Following her to the table, the melodic sound of her chuckle brought me lightness. She tossed me a banana and water, always insisting dehydration needed to be taken seriously.
“In this case, you are very much in trouble,” she clarified, raising a delicate brow at me.
The coffee, as soon as she finished brewing it, filled my nose. The sweet and unique scent of it always mesmerized me. Rich and heady, it calmed me. Routines brought my mind silence; this was ours.
Mom poured in her foam after mixing, and we both sat, waiting as the whistle and hum of the machine filled the silent space. After she made hers, she always brewed a French roast for me. No cream, no sugar.
“I want you to go to your aunt's house for the remainder of your senior year and stay there until we get back.”
I tasted the words on my mouth. An argument arose in me automatically, but I let it settle. It was a default response, not an actual one I'd felt. Pawning me off happened too often. Wanting her to be a parent made me dispute her decisions. Yet, Andy had always been my favorite person. Squabbling over being around her seemed redundant and pointless. At least she let me drink and smoke weed. Hell, she usually joined me.
Warmth slid beneath my skin, thinking of her. We had an odd relationship. Not quite familial, and a lot more intimate than it should be. Thinking of her, after what happened last visit... goosebumps rose and scattered across my arms.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
“Okay,” I answered, acting a little put out so she wouldn't question my approval. Andy lived two states over, it was a great scenery change, and seeing her would be
the highlight of my year. With my senior year practically over since they forced me to graduate early, and already being eighteen, it felt more of a vacation than a punishment. While you couldn’t graduate if you were expelled, I had all the required credits, and they let me graduate early. Greasing palms worked, they paid the principal to make it happen.
Not sure how much that cost them, but they wanted me to look like a good kid wanting to excel in life.
“What, no argument?” she questioned, eyebrow hiked up, doubt trickling across her features. Did she honestly think it was such a burden? Andy was a fucking dream. She brought me happiness. The way we were so in sync helped too. Being around her always turned out heated in a way it shouldn’t. She was my aunt, yet boundaries crossed in my mind, burning the wires with frissons of unease. Well, adopted aunt, but that was basically the same thing.
Andy and I were so close in age, and despite her age, she was the furthest thing from an adult. When I used to hang out with her when she’d first moved to Brightmore, it’d been life-changing. We were teenagers. She and I got into so much trouble, sneaking into rich resorts, going to the beach, and partying when we should've been home.
There were a lot of things we shouldn't have done, but much like me, her being the authority figure was laughable. My parents weren’t aware of our affinity for bad decisions, and Andy didn’t snitch. We were partners in crime.
Mom and Dad traveled a lot. He always went worldwide with every album release, doing long tours, and she followed him.
I spent most of my childhood with Andy, my godparents, and my grandparents. Until my grandparents died and Dad fucked my godmother, of course. After that, Andy became my safe haven.
It sucked being an only child to a famous musician. To the world, he was Dox Reaver, half of Windowless Skies; to me, he was barely Dad. Since he and Mom respected my desire for having an everyday life, they didn’t force me into the spotlight. The last time it happened, I was about twelve, singing with Dad on stage. After that, Madden Black became the only reality for me.
My entire existence thus far, the world knew me as Madden Black, not Toland Reaver, Dox Reaver’s kid. The public knew Dad had a kid. But since he hid me, they had no other pictures of me other than from when I was younger.