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Charlotte
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Grit rolled into the session room two hours late. I'd been frantically scribbling down the lyrics that swirled around my head well into the early hours. The band had been throwing in their own thoughts and we already had one verse down. When he finally walked in, he looked like he hadn't caught a wink of sleep. His hair was mussed up, suitcase size bags under his eyes, and his standard black tee was wrinkled. And I swear he wore the same jeans he had on last night.
'Where the f**k did you get to?' Xav ribbed him, with a wink. 'Shall I re-word that. Who the hell did you fuck.....you look like death.'
'Give it a rest.' Grit groaned, clutching at his head, and I felt a jab in my stomach. A sensation I didn't like. Something had happened last n
