Chapter 37

CHAPTER37

TATE

I feel like I’m going to throw up.

Tonight is more important than anything else I’ve ever done in my life. More important than any public appearance I made with Five Car Pileup. More important than the night I performed for Scarlett’s birthday party.

I’m going to reveal the truth tonight. And I’m going to sing—not the song they think I plan on singing either. Not even Roger or Simon know about that. I discussed it with the talk show host, and Jimmy’s good with it. Once I explained my situation and pleaded my case, he was totally down for it.

“This is probably gonna go viral, huh,” Jimmy said to me before the show started.

“I won’t complain if it does,” I told him. “I just hope I can follow through.”

“You’ve got this, man.” Jimmy clasped my shoulder and gave it a shake.

He’s probably not going to go easy on me, and I’m prepared for that. Somewhat. I’m waiting backstage, about to walk out on set, and when they announce my name and the crowd claps and cheers—I’m shocked—I head out, smiling and nodding, my heart sitting in my throat.

“So Tate, what have you been up to lately?” Jimmy asks, making the audience laugh.

I chuckle too, glancing out at the crowd, though I can’t make out any of their faces. The stage lights are too bright, and actually, I’m grateful for it.

“Not much,” is how I answer him. “You know, the usual.”

“You’re having a comeback moment.”

“Indeed I am.”

“And already finding yourself embroiled in scandal.” Jimmy says it with relish, and I remind myself he’s only doing this because this is what people want.

“Yeah, didn’t mean for that to happen.” I shake my head, rubbing my fingers along my jaw. Hating how uncomfortable I feel.

But I need to do this. I need to say it. Spill it all.

“We hear about fake relationships all the time in Hollywood. But no one ever cops to them, you know? This is a first.” Jimmy watches me, his eyes sparkling, and he gives me a little nod of encouragement. “The relationship started out fake between you two, right? Did it eventually turn into something real?”

“It started out fake.” I sit up straighter and clear my throat. This is do-or-die time. “I can’t lie about it. Those documents that were leaked? They are one hundred percent real, and we were victimized by that Irresistible employee leaking everything. But yes, Scarlett and I signed a contract, and we were involved in a fake relationship for publicity purposes through my record label.”

“The publicity surrounding you two after the kiss photo was completely wild. Like, everyone was talking about it. Your comeback. How you two made such a great couple. She’s got such a huge audience on social media, and people still love you from your Five Car Pileup days. It was a big deal. People were rooting for you two, so to find out it wasn’t real is just . . .” Jimmy shakes his head. “Man, it was a little disappointing.”

The audience groans its agreement.

“I let everyone down. I know I did. Including Scarlett. But believe me when I say my feelings for her the last couple of weeks, before everything came out?” My gaze goes to the camera, and I say, “They were authentic.”

The crowd claps, and my face flushes. I’m not looking for approval, but hearing their applause makes me feel a lot better.

I hope Gloria Lancaster comes through and gets her to watch this live. It’ll mean so much more.

“What are you saying, Tate?” Jimmy asks.

“I’m saying that I’m in love with Scarlett.” I turn toward him to see the smile on his face. He’s eating this up. “I know people might think I’m just saying this to save face, but I’m being real right now. I love her. The new album is all about her. Every single song. Every word I wrote.”

“I hear you wrote all the lyrics,” Jimmy adds.

I nod. “I did. Every song is from my heart. For Scarlett.”

“Including your latest number one hit, ‘Red.’ Congratulations on that, by the way. Pretty cool to go from a former rebel in a boy band to having the number one single on the Billboard charts.”

“It feels amazing,” I agree. “I still can’t believe I’ve been given this second chance.”

“All thanks to performing at Scarlett’s birthday party. How did you get that gig again?” Jimmy asks.

I tell the story, and then we go to commercial break. As soon as the cameras are off, Jimmy’s leaning over his desk, his gaze on me. “You’re doing great. Keep it up.”

“Thank you.” A makeup artist darts out, dabbing at my forehead with one of those puff things. I’m sweating thanks to what I’m saying and the hot lights.

“You’re really in love with her?”

I nod. “Hope she watches. This is the first time I’ve told her.”

Jimmy’s mouth drops open. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Bad move?”

“We’ll see,” he says with a broad smile, just as the cameras turn back on.

We talk about the album some more. He asks a few questions about my troubled past, but they’re more like gentle lobs than heavy slams on top of my head. I express my gratitude to the fans for loving the song and say I hope they’ll enjoy the album. I offer up hints about an upcoming tour.

And then it’s almost time for me to perform.

“You were going to sing ‘Red,’ but you came to me with a special request, right?” Jimmy’s brows shoot up.

Nerves eat at me again. This is where it gets tricky. I never ran the idea by Simon or Roger. “Yeah. I was hoping I could sing my new song for your audience tonight.”

Lots of cheering and yelling in response to that statement.

“Looks like they don’t have a problem with it. What’s the song called?”

“Its title is ‘Lonely for You Only.’ It’s a play on Five Car Pileup’s song ‘Lonely for You,’” I explain.

“That’s the only song that went number one for you guys, huh?”

“Yeah.” I nod. “I literally just wrote it.”

Jimmy frowns, his expression wary. “Wait, so it’s not recorded for the album?”

“Uh, not yet.”

“Can’t wait to hear it.” Jimmy’s smile is brittle, and I can tell this isn’t what he expected.

Shit.

There’s another commercial break, and I go to the side of the stage, where the band waits. It’s the guys I used while recording the album, and we’ve been going over the song all damn day, me trying to get it just right.

They sound great. The music is solid. It’s me I’m worried about. I don’t want to choke. Or look like a fool.

That’s the biggest one. Looking like a fool.

Okay, scratch that. The worst fear is that Scarlett won’t see me perform. Or she will and won’t give a shit. That I’ve already blown it.

All I’ve done since she left is work on this damn song. I wanted to call her, text her, but this is such a bigger declaration. It might be a mistake, but I had to do it this way. Show her that I love her in front of the whole damn world.

And fuck the consequences.

It was a risk, me coming on this show. Simon didn’t want me to do it. Roger was all for it. He’s trying to salvage the album, while Simon is trying to salvage my reputation. Both feel like they’re in the toilet, but maybe . . .

Maybe not. The audience’s reaction has been positive all evening. Now that I’m about to perform, though, I’m full of nerves.

Worry. Plenty of worry.

Jimmy announces me and the song, and the guitar starts, a melodic, almost melancholy sound. I grip the microphone and close my eyes, telling myself it’s going to be all right.

I’m going to kill it.

The words flow from me without thought. About longing and need. About meeting a sunshine girl with flashing brown eyes and a laugh like a song. How I fell in love and can’t think about anyone else.

Nothing will do

Only you

I’m lonely for you only

Missing you so bad

You’re the best I’ve ever had

In love with a girl who feels the same

Do you feel the same?

Are you lonely for me only, or is it all a game?

I run through the rest of the song with ease, giving it my all. My voice sounds good. The audience is swaying to the music. Even singing along with the chorus the second time around. Hell, even Jimmy is nodding his head to the beat, a faint smile on his face. And when the final note hits and I pull away from the mic, the audience erupts into overwhelming applause.

Jimmy runs up and gives me a hug, a grin on his face as he murmurs, “If she doesn’t respond to that performance, then something is seriously wrong with her.”

I nod and laugh, the sound nervous. I can’t stop smiling. The crowd keeps cheering, and I wave a hand at them, bowing before I turn to the band and bow to them as well. These four guys have kept me sane over the last few days, even when I was tempted to give it all up.

I didn’t, though. I couldn’t. I had to do this. For me.

And for Scarlett.

For us.