44. Varian

"He said he was coming." I paced the hall. It felt like a hospital, but it was fucking Madison Square Garden. I dreamed of playing here when our parents did. I remember getting out of school early to go to the venue. Seeing the locker rooms. How big it felt at five years old.

It didn't feel as big, but it was still overwhelming.

Arik should have been here hours ago, and then his ticket got canceled and they routed him through Chicago. I leaned against the wall and put my head in my hands.

"He'll get here. You can see him after the show." Vallen was annoyed. He didn't like to be late.

"I need to see him before. It's been three fucking weeks." We never meant it to go this long, but I suspected our teams were working against us. And on purpose. But who did I accuse? My manager, who I've known half my life and who's been better to me than my father? My label, who took me on knowing I had to stand in my dad's shadow but that I'd never lower myself to be like him or use him for anything?

Fox came over and wrapped his arms around me. "I love you, man. We can wait. Have you checked his location?"

"I have, but it's all fucked because there are too many people here. It's showing him in some new-construction building that doesn't even have walls yet."

Bronx joined the hug, wrapping around us both. "You skinny bitches. I can get my arms around both of you."

"Don't shame Fox. You know he is insecure about being a twink."

"If only I had the ass of a twink." Fox scoffed. "I just get to eat nonstop, and it's flat back there."

"I'd give you some of mine if I could," Bronx replied.

"No one holds up Madison Square Garden," Vallen said, turning in a circle like he was about to have a meltdown.

I detangled from the guys. "Let's go talk."

Vallen and I stepped into the bathroom.

"What's wrong? It's a few minutes."

"It just feels like you will throw away everything for this guy. You hate being late as much as I do. You drink more. You smoke to go to sleep." I could see it in his eyes. He didn't have to say it.

"I'm not Dad."

"I don't think you're Dad, but I don't want to see you be Mom either. Gran and Gramps almost lost you once. It would kill them."

"I'm not going to die."

He frowned but didn't reply.

"I don't know why you even think I'm acting like Mom. I'm not doing hard fucking drugs."

"She chased Dad all over the country, too, and it became more important to her than her career, her kids, her life. You don't remember it, but she was head over heels and didn't have substance abuse issues when you were born."

"Arik isn't abusive like Dad."

"No, but it's in our genes to self-medicate and be codependent. I see how worried you are about him all the time. I don't want to lose you in pursuit of him."

I closed my eyes, fighting tears. "I'm not her."

"No, not yet, but I want you to see what you're doing to yourself and to him before you get there. Or he gets there. This isn't healthy for either of you."

"That's not fucking fair. This has been the worst three months of my fucking life. We've never been this busy or this scheduled. Then my phone wasn't working for a week. It wouldn't send or receive any of his messages. I thought he was ignoring me. What was that if not someone fucking with us…?" I heard it. Just a little bit, but it was there, our mother. My heart shattered.

I pushed it away. I wasn't her. This was different. We loved each other; this was just a hard fucking season.

But the voice in the back of my head didn't shut up.

"We need to go play."

Vallen nodded but grabbed my arm before I could walk away. He pulled me into a hug. "I love you no matter what."

I lost it.

"I can't fucking go on like this." I stepped back and wiped my eyes.

"Take a minute. We're already five minutes late. What's ten?" Considering how Vallen felt about being late, it was the nicest thing he could do.

I stepped out of the room a minute later, eyes still red-rimmed, but there was nothing I could do.

Sneakers squeaking across the industrial tile drew my attention from the guitar my tech had just handed me.

Arik jogged down the long hall, his faded blue hair almost glowing in the fluorescent lights.

"Sorry!" He skidded to a halt a foot from me, sucking in breaths, half bent over.

"You made it!" I couldn't help the smile that spread over my face. It had to be iridescent.

"I wouldn't miss this for anything." Arik lifted his eyes, his smile rivaling mine.

"Touch me, please."

He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pressing our foreheads together. "Do you know how good you feel?"

"Not as good as you do." A rush of heat flooded my veins, all the dopamine I'd ever need. I told myself to ignore it, but the feeling was too powerful. It felt like the first time I played onstage, or the first time I was asked to sign a CD. The way I reacted when this guy smiled at me.

"We have to go on…" But I didn't want to leave.

"Can I watch from the wings?" he asked coyly.

"Only if you're careful."

"I will be." He knew what we risked as much as I did.

"I'd like that."

My brother grabbed my shirt and dragged me toward the stage. "Come on, star-crossed lover." Since he was probably saving me from making an ass of myself, I didn't object.

I gave a half-wave.

Arik grinned wider, then bit down on his lower lip. I closed my eyes, locking it in my memory.

Why did he feel like starlight?

What if it wasn't him but some fucking mental illness my parents' trauma passed down?

"You've got it bad." Bronx laughed, coming up behind me as we plugged in. "You look at him like Fox looks at two cereals mixed together."

I held up my middle finger right as the stage lights came up. The crowd laughed and screamed, not even fazed by my middle finger. That was our normal.

My brother leaned in to the mic, coming in with his low hum. I joined in to harmonize as I side-eyed the wings. Arik stood back far enough he couldn't be seen, but I knew he was there. We locked eyes, and even if I did turn into my mother, I didn't know if I was strong enough to give him up.

I shook my head, directing my attention back to the room. I had to remind myself not to look over every five minutes. We went off for the encore, and I grabbed his face, shoving him into the wall to kiss him for the minute before we let the fans call us back. He licked at my tongue, giving just as hard as I gave.

When I stepped back, his lips were swollen and red.

"Lindsay," I whisper-yelled. "Do you have my other guitar?" I forgot I needed to switch.

"I've been waiting," Lindsay said, standing too close for comfort.

"Thanks."

Arik nodded at her, and she back at him. "When did she become your tech?"

"John has her doing some merch stuff after the ghost drop was so successful for you, and she fills in as a tech."

"She is good at merch." He cupped my face, looking at me with stars in his eyes. "You better get back out there."

I groaned. "Three more songs and then I'm yours."

I got six hours and three orgasms with Arik, but it didn't recharge me like it used to. Now, it made me miss him more. I was on the verge of saying fuck it and burning this whole thing down. I wasn't my mother.

I loved him, and I wasn't ready to let go.