Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

EMILY

My phone rang while I was out running an errand during our stop in St. Louis.

When I saw it was my friend Leah from home, I picked up.

"The hiccup heard around the world…" were the first words out of her mouth.

"Where did you see that?" I asked.

"Are you kidding? It's all over the Internet."

Great. I'd been so busy that I hadn't gone online much lately. But I should've known someone had captured that and posted it.

"I can't believe he called you to the stage. That's so cool."

"Actually, I wish he hadn't."

"I would die if that man so much as walked by me, let alone brought me up onstage with him. I mean, I'm not Stacia with her freaking jar of hair, but Jesus..."

"I'm not starstruck when it comes to him." Only mildly obsessed. I cleared my throat. "Tristan and I have actually gotten to know each other."

"Are you serious? I guess I assumed you didn't have that much contact with the band. You've been holding out on me."

Not wanting to get into it, I downplayed things. "There's not much to tell. The nature of my job means I interact with him from time to time. We've talked a bit. That's all."

Talked a bit. We'd had intimate conversations, I'd told him most of my secrets, and I felt like he could see through my soul. Talked a bit, yeah.

"What have you talked about?"

"All sorts of things. Life. He's not as egotistical as you'd think someone with his level of fame might be. He said he appreciates me because I never treat him any differently because he's famous."

"Well, that's cool. It would be disappointing to find out he's an asshole."

"He's definitely not."

"What about the other guys? Atticus and Ronan are so freaking hot. I swear, the three of them together…"

"I don't really know them as much. Atticus and Ronan are the wild ones. They like to party more than Tristan. They work hard but play harder."

"They're a little younger than Tristan, right?"

"Yeah. Tristan is almost thirty-eight. Atticus and Ronan are in their early thirties, I believe."

"What about the other guy?"

"The keyboardist? That's Melvin. He's nice but not really part of their close circle. Anders is the original one, but he's in rehab, and they don't know when he's coming back."

"They must get a ton of girls, huh?"

"They do," I agreed, ignoring the knot in my stomach.

"Can't say I blame them. I'd be dangerous in their shoes if I had a dick," she joked.

"Wouldn't we all." I chuckled.

"I'm sorry I won't get a chance to see you while you're in town," she said. "I can't believe I'm away visiting Chase while you'll be in Shady Hills."

Leah had recently met a guy from out of state. But it worked out just as well that she wouldn't be home while I was in town. I wouldn't have much time to hang out with her since I mainly wanted to spend time with my mother.

"No worries. Enjoy your time with Chase." I paused. "Anyway, I have to run. I've got to get down to the arena."

"Wait, before you hang up. Do you mind if I repost the hiccupping video on social media and say you're my friend?"

I rolled my eyes. "Go for it."

Leah giggled. "It'll be my fifteen seconds of fame."

"Glad to help."

***

Despite his better vocals at the last show in Chicago, the raspiness I'd noticed when Tristan wasn't having a good night came back for the St. Louis performance this evening. It made me sad for him, especially since he'd thought he'd been turning a corner by resting his voice during the day. There was a second show planned here tomorrow night, so he wouldn't even have a full day to rest it this time.

I didn't see Tristan after tonight's show because I left before it ended to go to my mom's. Since my hometown was an hour from St. Louis, I'd gotten special permission to leave the crew and spend the night at home. I'd gotten the day off tomorrow, too, but would have to rejoin everyone after the second St. Louis show tomorrow night in order to board the bus and leave for the next city. This was my one and only chance to see my mother, and I was so grateful for the time off.

When the car dropped me in front of my mom's house, I took a deep breath. Coming here was always a mix of emotions. So many good memories, but many bad ones.

The smell of chicken cooking in the crockpot greeted me when I entered the house and dropped my bag.

My mother came running. "You made it!"

After a long hug that was followed by my quick recap of tour life thus far, I joined her in the kitchen. Together we prepared the chicken enchiladas she'd started.

"I can't believe my beautiful baby girl is here."

"I'm so glad this worked out," I told her as I shredded some cheese.

"Your aunt Jean sent me the video of you hiccupping."

I stopped shredding for a moment. "The whole world has seen that, apparently."

"It doesn't seem to faze you." She chuckled.

"Nothing fazes me anymore, Mom."

She flashed me a sympathetic look, seeming to understand what I meant. "Please tell me you're happy."

Happy was a stretch. But things had been better lately. "For the first time in what feels like forever, I'm content. This position leaves me little time to think, which is apparently exactly what I needed."

She nodded. "I'm so glad you took it. Too much time to think isn't good."

"I'm sorry I got here so late. But at least I don't have to rush out in the morning. I got the day off and get to hang until you have to go to work tomorrow night."

We continued to chat as we sat together and shared the enchiladas, and after we'd cleaned up, I ventured to my old room. A charm bracelet Jacob had given me years ago sat atop the bureau. That was all it took to make me want to cry. Being back here was always an adjustment at first. So many memories at every corner.

My phone rang, interrupting my thoughts.

A rush of adrenaline hit as I answered. "What's going on, Tristan?"

"Well, that totally backfired." He groaned.

"What backfired?"

"I was so fucking braindead tonight after the show that I forgot you said you were taking off for your mother's house. I ordered freaking Bengay to my suite, and they had Mario deliver it. What a total buzzkill, and it completely defeated the purpose. He wasn't very happy with me."

I burst into laughter. "Thanks for the report. I needed that tonight. But you're an idiot, Tristan. Serves you right. That's what you get."

"I'm sorry to interrupt your family time. I just...felt like hearing your voice. I know it's late, but I'm a selfish prick so..."

"It's okay. I wasn't sleeping anyway."

"Did you have a nice night with your mom?"

"Yeah. We made my favorite enchiladas, and I told her all about the tour. She's actually a fan of you guys now. She started listening to your music when I found out I got the job."

"Do me a favor and thank her for creating you for me, okay?"

My cheeks hurt from smiling, but the lingering silence on the other end of the line was deafening. "Are you alright?" I asked.

He sighed. "Are you asking me that because I'm calling you so late, or because you noticed my voice was off tonight?"

"Both, I guess."

"I'm not okay, to be honest. I wish I could cancel tomorrow night's show. I've never canceled a show, Emily. Not once."

"Is that an option?"

"Not without serious repercussions, pissing off thousands of people."

"What would happen if you got sick?"

"I'd cancel, and everyone would have to deal with it."

"You've really never canceled a performance before? In your whole career?"

"Never."

"Well, then I'd say you're due. I think you need to tell Doug the truth about everything. Tell him you need a day to rest your voice."

"I don't know." After a long pause, he said, "Maybe you're right. Maybe I need to."

"Hang up with me, and go talk to him about it now," I insisted.

"I'm not ready to get off the phone with you yet."

"Go tell him you need a night off, then call me back. I'll be here."

"Alright. Gonna do it." He sighed. "Thank you, Emily."

"Of course."

Time crawled after we hung up. I worried for him. A single night off was one thing, but what if he needed more? What if people figured out why he'd canceled? The press could be brutal. There was no shame in it, of course, but I knew Tristan well enough to know that having this go public would devastate him. And the fact that I was feeling devastated right now indicated just how much Tristan meant to me. That was scary.

Almost an hour went by. It was nearly one in the morning when my phone finally rang.

I picked up. "Hey, what happened?"

"I did it. I told Doug everything," Tristan said. "He agrees we should cancel tomorrow so I can rest my voice." He sighed into the phone. "At least it's the second show here, and we were able to get one in. That's not going to satisfy the people who bought tickets for tomorrow night, though."

"You don't owe them anything, Tristan."

"I won't be able to sleep tonight. I'll be staring at the ceiling, second-guessing my decision."

"Have you heard from the guys since you told Doug?"

"They're still out partying. They'll find out soon enough. Honestly, I wish I didn't have to be here when they do."

I didn't know what came over me, but it felt like the right thing to say. "Why don't you come here?"

"To your mother's house?"

"Yeah. You can rest here tonight and tomorrow, away from everyone. We'll go back to the bus tomorrow night."

"I don't want to intrude on your time with your mom."

"Are you kidding? She'd die to meet you. She's asleep now, of course, but we can explain everything in the morning. Or I'll explain, since you'll be silent. I mean it. If you come here, you can't talk. You need to rest your voice."

"Yes, ma'am. Whatever you say."

"You're coming?"

"Already putting on my jacket."

"How are you getting here?"

"I'll call a car."

"Under your name?"

"Hell no. I use Stephen's account when I want to remain incognito. I'll put my shades on and my hood. I'll be good."

After I gave him my address, we hung up, and I wondered if I needed my head checked. Not only would my mother definitely get the wrong idea, I wasn't even sure what my intentions were. It wasn't just that I had a massive crush on Tristan. I cared about him a lot. All I wanted was to protect him-not only from the world, but from his own harsh self-judgment.

I waited by the window until I saw the bright lights of a car pulling up in front of the house. The car door slammed shut, and then a dark shadow of a man dressed in black approached the house. With every step he took, my heart beat faster.