53. Arik

Ifell in love with him in the summer of our lives, but I never expected the winter to be so hard.

"Good morning, Arik Vesper! You have a number-one album for the second week in a row, which is smashing all your previous records. While you happen to be on tour with the band, you beat out for the number-one spot for the second week in a row. This we haven't seen from an album in far too long. What made you decide to go on tour with Dopamine-Fiend after eighteen years?" The morning show host smiled on my screen.

"Good morning, Dexter." I'd stayed up all night to not miss the radio interview spots and giveaways for upcoming cities. Our PR really wanted to push our album to keep it at number one for another week. "It's been a wild release. I'm so thankful for our fans." I forced myself to smile and laugh, knowing radio listeners could watch the interview live. "It wasn't my idea to go on tour with Dopamine-Fiend. I have to thank my label and manager for making that happen, but we've been friends with them since Warped back in the day and are really excited to be back on tour with them, promoting our work together. The albums complement each other nicely, too, which is always a bonus."

I hated having to act like we were all still friends. It's not like they wanted Serafin for these, either. It was me who had to be the face of this bullshit.

"They do! I've struggled to decide which to have on repeat. I keep going back and forth." Dexter got a glint in his eyes, and I groaned internally, hoping this wasn't going to be about Varian. "Do you guys have any rivalry? I have to think releasing an album the same day and leaving for a massive tour has got to bring out some competitiveness."

"Hey, now, that's not fair. They haven't put out an album in six years. They started from behind. But that being said, it's always nice to win." I smirked, giving the fans a view of my dimples. "All joking aside. We are so thankful to everyone who's listening, streaming, buying, posting, and everything else. And I hope everyone listening gives Dopamine-Fiend's album a listen, too." I meant all of it. I wanted Varian to kill it, just nowhere near me.

"It's so nice to see artists supporting each other."

"A rising tide lifts all ships. I'd rather pull up music I like than be a dick." I smiled tightly.

Kiernan gave me the one-minute signal from where he was sitting in the front lounge near me.

We had these things scheduled every twenty minutes from six a.m. until ten. An album cycle was grueling.

"Thanks for talking to us, Arik. Now we have two VIP passes to give away!"

We disconnected, and I let my mask fall for the three minutes until we had to connect to the next. "Have I told you how much I hate you today?"

"No, shockingly, you made it two hours in my company today without saying it. I'm going to call that improvement." Kiernan grinned. "Two minutes."

I flipped him off. "I still don't get why you think this was such a good idea."

"Because they have die-hard fans like you do. If we can get them to overlap more, we benefit, and since you are with the same label, they get to double dip. Believe it or not, I don't want the PR disaster of you two back, which the record label conveniently doesn't remember. But I didn't get a choice either. I just embraced it before you did." Kiernan pointed at my laptop. "You're on in twenty seconds."

I put my mask back on and went through the whole spiel, talking about our album and fielding questions.

It wasn't until the second to last interview I got the question. "Avid fans know the last time you were on tour with Dopamine-Fiend, there were some heavy tabloid rumors about you that got pretty nasty. How does it feel to be on tour with the subject of those rumors again, especially with the very pointed song you just released?" They'd been told not to ask about my sexuality as a condition of the interview. This seemed to be their shitty workaround.

"I didn't have a problem with the rumors then. Tabloids print clickbait. They always have, and they always will. It's not an insult to be called those things. The part I found annoying was how aggressive paparazzi have been with me and their lack of boundaries since that time."

"Do you think you signed up for this when you decided to pursue a career in music?"

"No. I think I signed up for curiosity surrounding my private life since I share a lot, but I don't think anyone has a right to harass, bully, and stalk people because of their fame." Thankfully, these questions were easy. I had answers I always gave because the problem never stopped. Only my strategy changed. I'd spent the last seventeen years feeding them crap through PR relationships.

It got them off my back and gave them shit to fill headlines.

"Your album is pretty heavy. Is this a heartbreak?"

"The album is my life in review. It's a look into the last twenty years, but it's not all heartbreak. Pain infiltrates our lives in every situation we end up in. There will always be more layers than romantic love. I used the album to mourn all the versions of myself I've killed to get here."

"Killed? That sounds intense," the host said.

"I think killing is the process of moving on. It's not bad to shed skin that doesn't fit anymore." And if I didn't kill those versions of myself I wouldn't be able to get out of bed.

"I think that's a really good way of looking at it. Thanks for chatting with us, and we'll see you on tour?—"

I cut off the feed and dropped my head back. "I need to smoke after all that."

"One more, you'll get through it."

The last one pressed the Varian topic—and with a lot less tact.

"Care to comment on all the rumors about you and Varian? There any truth to those?"

"Do you think it's appropriate to push those kinds of narratives?" I wasn't a liar, and I'd told everyone from our breakup I would not deny it.

"I think I'm asking the questions the fans want to know." He shot back, all cocky. Like he was the proud douche for being the one to break our terms.

"I think you and anyone else who wants to know should take a hard look at yourself for asking this shit about a married man." I gave him the peace sign and ended the video call. "Hope that doesn't piss you off."

"Nope. You did what I would have done," Kiernan said.

"I'm going to go take a walk."

"Shouldn't you catch some sleep?" Kiernan didn't look up from his laptop. "Don't leave the arena. There are already lines outside."

"I'm fine. I probably won't sleep before sound check." This was the downside to playing arenas. Much bigger production load in and load out, and nowhere to go walk in the morning. I loved festivals for the big empty space.

I did a lap around the underground floor as the crews moved in all our gear and worked through setting up the stage. I hit the elevator, wanting to go score a pretzel. The door started to close, but someone slipped in.

I half glanced at him, nodding before doing a double take.

Varian stood there with an awkward grimace on his face. "Sorry. I didn't realize."

I'd have walked out, but the doors had already shut. It felt like a cruel joke. We had a full crew, six buses, and two opening bands besides Second Star and Dopamine-Fiend. Despite that, the one guy I had to see constantly was Varian. I couldn't stop running into him.

I didn't even see Ser that much, and he and I shared a bus.

"It's fine." I hit the button again. The elevator started moving, and I avoided Varian's eyes.

To give him credit, he didn't say a word.

I could get through this.

The elevator jerked suddenly, throwing me off balance.

I hit the wall and grabbed the rail. "What the fuck?"

The elevator wasn't moving, and the doors weren't opening. I glanced over at Varian, who was in a very similar state of bracing himself.

"Are we going to die?"I asked, not upset.

"Why? You have some deathbed confessions?" Varian wore the hint of a smile I both loved and hated.

"No," I said coldly. "None I'd tell you."

He rolled his eyes and slowly let go of the rail. "Hopefully, this means we aren't going to fall."

"Hopefully? Why are you letting go?" I couldn't pry my fingers off the rail if I wanted to. I was white-knuckling this bitch.

"Because I don't think holding the rail would save me if the elevator fell and we crashed to our death." His words drove some sense into my brain.

I slowly released my grip and rubbed my knuckles. "Fair point. I guess we should push the emergency button?" What were the fucking odds?

"I think so? I've never been stuck in an elevator before." He pulled his phone out. "Of course I have no signal."

I hit the call button, and it started ringing. "This seems to work."

It kept ringing and ringing.

"I'm going to hit the emergency button."

Varian didn't say anything, so I did.

An alarm sounded.

I closed one eye as the siren cut through the last of my working neurons. "Well, that's fucking unpleasant."

"No shit." Varian put his hands over his ears. "It's so bad, blocking it doesn't help. It's getting in my brain at a molecular level."

"I feel it taking the rest of my sanity."

He laughed. "Not much left, is there?"

I shook my head.

"Hello?" a voice called from the panel.

"Hi. We're stuck in the elevator," I said leaning toward the panel.

"Is there anyone injured?" he asked.

"No…"

"Good. Hang tight. We'll get a technician to your location as soon as possible." The alarm cut.

"Why do I have a feeling ‘as soon as possible' will be hours?" I slid to a seat and took my phone out to check my signal. "These fucking all-concrete buildings."

"I swear they build phone-blocking tech into them now so people can't stream from concerts." Varian hesitated, then sat down as well.

"Fuck. They would, too." I exhaled, tipping my head back to look at the ceiling so I didn't keep looking at him.

Why the fuck did he have to look so good? Fucking fine wine bullshit.

"Want a hit?" Varian asked, drawing my attention back to him. He held out a mini vape. That his mouth had most definitely been on.

I'd never get through this without taking a hit, but I didn't trust myself either. I leaned forward and took it, inhaling a long-ass draw. I needed this shit to work fast.

"The THC is high in that. Be careful."

"I can handle it." I took a second hit before giving it back. "I bet no one else knows we are even missing."

"Aren't you always missing?" He took another hit, then tucked it in his pocket.

We sat in awkward silence until I realized I didn't care. I closed my eyes, enjoying the high.

"You don't have to answer, but did you get it tattooed?" Varian asked after a while.

I didn't have to ask what he meant. I pulled up my sleeve and let him see the entire note tattooed.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I didn't want to forget. I wanted the reminder of it every day when I looked in the mirror. It's worked better recently." My word vomit was confirmation that smoking with him was the worst idea.

"I don't think I could have looked at it every day."

I lifted my shoulders. "You get used to all kinds of pain you didn't think you could live through."

"I feel that in my chest." He rubbed his sternum, and I couldn't stop looking at him. His hair was still long, but today, he had it pulled back in a low ponytail, something he never used to do. He wore a plain white tee. But it fit him like a fucking skin, revealing pecs he never had before. He was like the adult version of the boy I used to love, complete with about twenty pounds of extra muscle because the universe really hated me. "How did the interviews go today? Get asked about ‘Star-Crossed'?"

"How'd you know?"

"I was slated to do the calls after you all morning." It made perfect sense. It was normal album promotion.

"Twice. One of them was pretty covert and didn't push. The second was a real asshole. Asked about our rumors and then pressed it when I didn't answer."

"Fuck. I'm sorry." A frown pulled between his brows. He had lines in his forehead and crow"s feet, but somehow, he was the same guy. It fucked with my brain.

"What about you?"

"I got a few. No one pushed it, but they took my last call off, and I'm betting that's why."

I nodded. "Yup."

"What did you say to him?"

I gave him a rundown of my answer.

"Good for you." He took the pen back out and took another hit.

I held out my hand. Maybe I could get myself so obliterated I couldn't speak.

"Do you think there is a way we can be friends?" Varian asked, and his words sucked all the oxygen out of the tiny space.

"I can't be friends with you," I managed somehow, because my lungs were empty and my veins were bled out. I had nothing left.

I didn't know how to stay away from him. It's why I had him blocked for the last seven years. Because the second he called, I'd be there, and I knew I couldn't do that anymore with him married.

"Why?"

"You know why." I flexed my jaw.

"Why didn't you tell me not to?" he asked on an empty breath.

"I told you."

"Did you mean what you said in the song?"

"Every word." I shouldn't be telling him the fucking truth.

"I wish you would have." Defeat bled into his voice, and it hurt. He was fucking married. What right did he have to say that to me?

"You made me love you and only you, and then you went and got Lindsay pregnant. You had a fucking kid. I couldn't stop you. You didn't belong to me anymore."

"I've always been yours."

"Don't feed me those lines."

"They are true," he whispered.

"Did you do all the things we did on our bus with her too? All the fucking moments? Was it just because I was there?"

"It was never like that, Arik."

"I don't believe you." I slammed my head back into the metal.

"Arik, I don't even fucking remember getting her pregnant."

"Excuse me?"