Chapter 8

EIGHT

H e turned me down.

Me.

I have never been rejected in my life, and I don't like how it feels. Despite his promise, I still feel the aching sting of rejection, and old doubts and darkness creep up as I wander through the big house like a ghost.

It has always been like this, as if I don't truly exist in this life or this world.

It's as if I'm a light that is simply turned on to shine for others, and then when I'm switched off, I am forgotten once more.

Nobody cares what happens in the dark, when my light doesn't shine. I smile and say I'm fine when they ask because they don't want to soil themselves with the darkness that festers in my soul.

I was born this way, or maybe I was made this way. I don't know. All I know is that I have fought these demons every day for as long as I can remember. I don't crawl into bed and never come out, instead I disconnect from the world. I just stop feeling. I'm living, but none of it really matters, and suddenly days or months later, I come back online and realize I have been moving along like a machine. I know what it is, although I didn't for a long time until I worked up the courage to go speak to someone.

It's depression.

Every time I have been hurt or let down, it rears its mocking head, waiting for me.

I was hurt so many times, I thought there was nothing of me left, so I never let anyone in. If I did, they could hurt me or realize there was nothing left for them to hurt.

It didn't stop them from trying though.

All the rocks they threw have honed me into the perfect, glittering diamond sharp enough to cut anyone who comes too close. It keeps me safe but alone.

I drift aimlessly through the house until I find myself in the piano room, the one that faces his house. I see lights shining brightly inside, and for a moment, I ache to be bathed in them and feel as much as he does, but I turn away.

I'm not the diamond he thinks I am.

I'm not gentle or kind, and tonight he saw that, and now he doesn't want me, just like everyone else.

I didn't have the option to be gentle, soft, and loving. I had to split my knuckles to protect myself so they wouldn't come back to hurt me again.

I lie in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling. Sleep eludes me like always, but for once, I don't reach for the pills. I want to feel this darkness. I want it to hurt. Maybe that's fucked up, but to me, it's my constant companion.

It reminds me I'm alive, even when I don't feel like I am.

I never tell anyone that I crave the pain or that I was formed this way by my father.

Kage asked about him today, so maybe that's why I take a trip down memory lane, even though he is the very last person I ever want to think about.

He was Agille, the infamous rock star, known for his music, his bad-boy ways, and his epic parties—parties that were some of the worst horrors of my life, parties that scarred me and made me into the ice queen.

Yes, to everyone else, my father was an icon, but to me, he was my abuser. He was my hell, and I don't say that lightly.

I've never seen healthy love before, and maybe that's why Kage terrifies me so much, because what he has for me isn't healthy either.

It's an obsession. Why can't I stop thinking about it?

My fingers trace over my lips.

He tasted so alive, and for a moment, I was alive as well. I came to life with his kiss, with his hands, and then he took it all away, and now I'm left cold and wanting.

Fuck him.

Fuck them all.

I sit in the interview chair. I look calm and composed, but my heart is thundering. I refused a lot of interviews after the one that exposed my ex, but I refuse to show fear when that's what they want. Plus, Jimmy is a good guy. I don't know about his new co-host, Henry, but I don't back down. I've been putting this off, and I can't anymore. My label made that clear.

I need to stay relevant.

"So, Fallon, we saw your stunning debut at the premiere last night." I grin at the pictures that flash on screen. I look good. "And not just that, but with a surprising date, the one and only Kage." The crowd goes wild, and I swallow, swimming through my muddled feelings. "How did that come about?"

I chuckle. "I needed a plus one."

"And you managed to snag the most eligible bachelor in the entire world." Henry chuckles. "How blessed is your life?"

I smile at his snide remark.

"Are you and Kage close? You seemed like it last night." I glance at the photos of us together on the carpet. There's one of me staring into the camera, smiling, and him looking at me with a loving smile. There are more from the after-party, but I simply laugh—a forced, practiced sound.

"We are friends," I reply. "Although it's new."

"Kage has stated many times that he would love to work with you on some music. Do you see that happening?" Jimmy asks kindly.

"I'm not sure. Kage is a very talented singer." The crowd goes wild, and I wink. "But you know I like to keep my secrets when it comes to my music."

"Very true. Speaking of, when's the next album, Fallon? It's been a year," Henry asks, and the crowd cheers for that. "All your fans are begging for new music."

"My fans are too kind." I blow them a kiss. "Like I said, I like my secrets, but I have been busy for the last year, and I can't wait to unveil what I have planned. Until then, make sure to check out the Easter eggs online and see if you can work it out." There, I plugged the social content like they wanted. I always hated this side of the business. I was never good at it, but I know it's important.

"Well, we can't wait. You are the master of music." Jimmy grins. "Isn't she?" The crowd shouts their agreement. "Honestly, it's like being transported into a different world. We even showed some of our older generation your songs, and they said it was like being back in the fifties again with your soulful voice and rhythm."

"You are too kind." I giggle, another forced sound.

"You are very talented, but I definitely prefer rock." Henry chuckles, and I force a fake smile at the barb. Jimmy frowns at his co-host but chuckles like he's in on the joke. It's clear he is uncomfortable with the comments Henry is making. I'm betting he won't last long. Everyone knows Jimmy is in charge around here. Without him, there's no show, and he doesn't like his guests feeling uncomfortable. That's why so many come back time and time again, because he's actually a good guy who cares, not just about views but the people he interviews.

Henry chuckles. "Okay, okay, enough about music. We all know you are seen with some of the hottest hunks of the year."

I bite my tongue as images of me with some of the men I've slept with come up on screen—ones I never wanted taken. I don't parade them around. They just like to spin that.

"Some say you are out to have fun after your divorce, so who is the latest conquest? Anyone we know?"

I swallow my anger. "Do you ask everyone who they are sleeping with?" I smile. "Or just women?"

He laughs and leans closer. "Only those with such a wide dating history. I mean, come on, from princes to models. You have us all curious with all those love and breakup songs. Do you like breaking hearts for the music?" I raise a brow. "A joke, of course."

"I don't understand the joke. Can you explain it to me?" I retort, refusing to back down since he won't either. It's clear he wants a reaction, so he will get one.

Men like him hate to see successful women, especially one unwilling to conform to his ideals and let him rule them so he can feel powerful.

He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously as he chuckles self-consciously. "It's just a joke."

"I know, but I don't understand it. Can you explain why it's funny?" When he just stares, I pout. "No? I guess it can't be that funny then," I mock as his cheeks turn red. "But since you are so curious, let's talk about it. You don't want to know who I'm dating, you want to know who I'm sleeping with, and that's why you asked it like that. You believe you have a right to know my personal life, a right to know who I let in my bed. You act as though whoever I'm sleeping with affects my standing or music. I don't ask who you're sleeping with, and you have never asked any men that question nor made remarks about what they are wearing. We have done many of these interviews now, and you need to do better. A woman isn't defined by the cock she is or isn't using. I'm a complex, intelligent musician, and I deserve to be treated with the same respect you give your male guests." He's pale as I look at the crowd. "I am sorry for the course language, but I didn't expect to be so attacked during an interview simply for being a woman and enjoying my life, since we all know he wouldn't dare speak to a man like that. "

"Fallon is completely right." Jimmy glares at Henry. "I don't think the way you are speaking to Fallon is appropriate. She has never been anything but kind to us here."

I glare at Henry as he looks around for some help but finds none. Everyone knows better than to fuck with me.

He's just another man bothered by what's between my legs. It won't change anything. No, maybe not for men, but it will for women. I just showed them we don't have to be complacent, meek, and silent.

"I apologize if I upset you, Fallon?—"

"No, apologize properly," I demand, sitting back and crossing my legs. My blue-and-white tweed skirt rises with the movement, and I tap my heel impatiently. I look every inch the elegant musician, with my blouse snug across my chest and my hair perfectly coiffed, and right now, he looks like a horn dog. "That wasn't an apology. That was laying blame on me, as if I have no right to be upset. You aren't accepting responsibility. Words have power. You should know that as a journalist, Henry. I demand a proper apology for your disgusting, misogynistic language."

He swallows. "Fallon, I really am sorry."

"Better," I state and look at Jimmy. "I'm sorry the interview took this turn. I was so excited to come here today and talk about what I had coming up."

"And we are so thankful for you coming, Fallon. I truly do apologize for Henry. It seems we have a difference of opinion on what we want for this show." He gives Henry a look before addressing the audience. "We are going to say goodbye to Fallon and hope that we see her again."

I smile, and as the music begins, I stand and shake Jimmy's hand, his expression warm and worried. "I'm so sorry, Fallon."

"Don't be, it's not your fault," I tell him as I take Henry's outstretched hand. I squeeze it hard. "I hope I never see you again, but remember what I said. I do not ever want to see you speaking to another artist like that. You might think you are important and can get away with it, but I have my own ways of destroying someone." I turn and wave at the fans before I head off stage .

I sit in my car, annoyance coursing through me, and I feel my phone blowing up. My social media is off the charts, and I check to see the comments are all in my favor. Even other celebrities are chiming in since it's trending.

I ignore them, and when my phone rings, I hesitate.

"Hello?" I answer.

"Hi, sweetheart," the dark voice greets.

"Who is this?" I pretend I don't know.

He chuckles. "Save the number, beautiful. Nice interview. You were so fucking sexy when you were tearing him down."

"He deserved it," I snap.

"He deserved much more," he agrees. "Don't worry, men like him always get what they deserve eventually. I just called to say you looked amazing. See you later." He hangs up, and I'm left gaping at my phone, wondering what just happened.

He is a strange man.