My heart needed time to heal and regroup.
The endless Hall Affinity emails that flooded my inbox daily in light of the upcoming album release were more than enough. New singer or not, one mention of the band stirred up all my memories of Frank that I tried to tuck away to the darker corners of my mind.
On Monday, Jay Brodie PR released an official statement regarding the incident during the album release party. Frankie Blade issued a public apology and a promise to get help. Sadly, thousands of Oops!…I did it again GIFs and someone give this guy crutches memes had already been circulating all over the internet. Twitter. Tumbler. Instagram. Facebook.
Frank’s meltdown was the hottest topic of the week. Possibly the month. Possibly even the year. He’d gone from the most admired man on the planet to a pathetic joke in a split second.
And my name was attached to this embarrassing moment like a label to a new pair of jeans. Even if you cut it out, it’d still scratch and irritate you.
On Tuesday, Ashton came home early. Apparently, someone in his school made fun of Frank, and my little brother took matters into his own hands. I’d never pegged him for a fighter. At least not outside his X-box games. Though tall, he was too much of a wimp to throw punches. His aggression, but mainly his need to defend Frank’s nonexistent reputation, surprised me.
On Wednesday, Flutter, the fifth Hall Affinity album, finally hit streaming devices and shelves. It reached the number one position the following week, three days before the annual Bowl N’ Roll event. The same evening, Dante was added to the charity’s list of attending guests.
I contemplated asking Levi to take Shayne instead. My heart was too fragile to withstand another assault. But Linda confirmed Dante Martinez wasn’t doing any interviews.
I spent the rest of the month searching for a new venue. Unfortunately, all my efforts were to no avail, which only caused more tension between Levi and me. Isabella was booked for a series of shows and charity appearances in Seattle and we couldn’t postpone it any longer. The screening had to happen before the second week of April.
In my defense, I continued to grill the managers of the clubs that were still undecided and even reached out to a couple of places who’d rejected the project. Bottom line: I was desperate. I was ready to work with anything. Even the back of a restaurant as long as it could fit a stage and a projector.
Unlike my heart, my new ink healed nicely. Jax had wonderful hands. The needle was his paintbrush. At first, the idea of having a comic book character imprinted onto my skin had seemed crazy, but the moment he showed me the sketch, I knew she was the one.
She was a representation of the new me. A warrior. An independent woman who didn’t need a man, even if said man kept sending her flowers every week like clockwork, long after his calls and texts had stopped, long after he’d vanished. From my life. From the public eye.
Gone.
I’d made it clear when we last spoke that I didn’t want him to seek me out anymore. His silence could mean many things. Maybe he’d checked into rehab just like he’d promised or maybe he’d gone on another drinking spree. Maybe neither of those things. Whatever he’d chosen, we’d fallen apart. We were an affair that hadn’t lasted. A relationship that hadn’t withstood the storm.
A fading memory.
Having Heidi Fox tarnish this memory during Bowl N’ Roll wasn’t something I’d been prepared for. Meeting ex-Mrs. Blade in general wasn’t something I’d been prepared for. We didn’t run in the same circles. The chances of us ever bumping into each other were very slim. Practically nonexistent.
After Heidi and Frank called it quits, she stopped hanging out with musicians and left the scene. According to her 2013 Cosmopolitan interview, they were too unstable. A couple of months later, her name had resurfaced online. She’d been rumored to date some billionaire from Costa Rica. That hadn’t lasted long. Up next was a famous tennis player. Then an A-list Hollywood actor. Heidi Fox didn’t waste any time. Especially since time hadn’t been kind to her. She wasn’t a glorified girl-next door with golden skin and perfect blond hair anymore. Just like Frank, she was the victim of a scalpel. She was a nicely packaged product to sell. In her early thirties, the woman was still beautiful—tall, fit, long-legged with perfect facial features and impeccable makeup, but when it came down to it, Heidi Fox was merely a pretty girlfriend-for-hire. Whatever happened to her aspirations to change the world?
Heidi was making her way through the upper concourse of the bowling alley in the company of Caleb Waters when I saw her from my spot across from the step and repeat area set up in the reception of the bowling center.
Earlier red carpet attendees had already been teamed up and escorted to their lanes. Bets had been made. Drinks and appetizers had been served. The floor buzzed with energy. Starstruck ticket holders chased after celebs. Security chased after starstruck ticket holders. Those who didn’t want to be bothered hid in the private rooms upstairs.
The newly arriving guests were lined up for a photo op by the PR girls running the event.
Levi and I had been here since five. We planned to wrap it up after catching the last wave of VIPs who arrived late.
Bowl N’ Roll was by far one of the most tiresome charities of the season. A casual snob-fest. Usually, I enjoyed it. But not this year. Reason number one, Dante’s presence, although he’d only shown up on the red carpet for a photo session and we hadn’t had a chance to talk. Reason number two, the countless stares of other guests and the press. Darn you, Frank! Reason number three was walking through the concourse next to the skateboarding
