“What? I’m sorry to hear that. Should I call her?”
Connor seemed reticent. “Don’t even try, Jace. Even for me and your sister, it’s impossible to keep a relationship going on a schedule like we have. I know I’m losing her, and the funny thing is? I don’t blame her.”
“You’re not going to quit, are you?” I was alarmed.
“No.” Connor looked me in the eye. “I’m where I belong.”
And so it continued. We made it through Budapest, Serbia, Denmark, Belgium, and Portugal and were going to close out our tour with the Reading and Boomtown festivals in the UK, a week off in London, six weeks of club dates across Europe again followed by Oktoberfest in Munich. Since I had to be in New York for the Vanity Fair shoot, we added a show at Radio City Music Hall and a few dates to bring us back to Seattle for a secret Mission show.
Management took mercy on us and was letting us have a few days off at Christmas before we jetted off for five months in Australia, New Zealand, and Asia after New Year’s.
I couldn’t wait for a break. Touring for so many months had gotten old. It wasn’t fun anymore, we were bickering, exhausted, and cranky. Ty refused to do any press or VIP activities. Zane barely let him out of his sight, only engaging in a few random hookups. Nearly every other day, Connor and Jen had heated FaceTime fights in the close quarters of the tour bus.
Because I rarely let my emotions get the best of me, being surrounded by so much drama and tension made me feel annoyed. After Barcelona, I simply buried myself in social, determined to make up for the weird energy in the band with some cool posts of us in the cities we were visiting. It worked; our reach grew by hundreds of thousands of followers each week.
Still, my excitement at getting to New York was unexpected, and it hit me that it was because I had a huge crush on Alex, the likes of which I’d never experienced before. Certainly not with Cassie or any other hookup over the years. I hadn’t looked at another woman let alone hooked up with one since Barcelona. I had no interest. No one compared to Poppy, the feisty, funny adventuress.
We texted several times a week. She seemed to be loving her time in Ibiza, she sent dozens of photos of herself with the various horses she was rehabilitating. I’d never been a horse guy, but the vision of her sitting astride a shiny, black steed in a green field, her head thrown back in utter glee, honey locks caught in the wind, was breathtaking. It was like catching a glimpse of the true Alex deep down to her soul.
My communications with Alex were the highlight of my day and were also a welcome respite from our internal band drama. As we approached our final show, my heart felt so heavy and disappointed when she couldn’t make it to the UK for our week off. She texted me from some event where she’d been paid to make an appearance. I ended up on a three-day pub crawl with Connor to drown my sorrows. It took me two days to recover.
For our final gig, Limelight was on the bill at Reading, and they were going on stage right after our set. All of us in LTZ were bracing for the inevitable confrontation between Ty and Carter, which couldn’t be avoided anymore. By the time we rolled onto the grounds of the festival, I was sick from the stress of it all, and the only thing keeping me sane was the promise of seeing Alex in New York for the photo shoot.
Despite all the bullshit, we killed the live show. I mean killed. It was game-changing. Ty was the best I’d ever seen him, but so were the rest of us. Most of the Limelight guys were standing at the side of the stage cheering us on, clearly proud of how we’d evolved, but completely unaware of the storm clouds afoot. The second we finished our set, Ty stormed off the stage like thunder past Carter toward the dressing room without any acknowledgment.
Connor and I stopped for a minute to speak to other guys in the band, after all, they had supported us for years. Carter crumpled into a ball on a massive speaker while the set change went on all around us, his head buried in his hands. Zane sat next to him, talking to him softly.
None of us except Zane watched Limelight play that night, we all sat silently in the dressing room through their entire set. It sucked. When the last notes of their encore ended, the energy became super-charged because we were waiting for Zane to bring Carter to us. Ty sat slouched back on a couch, his arms crossed over his vintage Alice in Chains T-shirt, eyes closed, his mouth set in a grim line. It was almost like he was meditating.
Footsteps approached, we watched as Zane unlocked the door and Carter followed him in, drenched in sweat. Carter pulled up a folding chair and sat down in front of Ty, but Ty refused to make eye contact.
Carter looked around at the rest of us. “Guys, could you give us a minute?”
“No,” Ty said definitively, with his eyes still shut. “They stay.”
“Okay.” Carter sighed with resignation.
We all sat in another uncomfortable silence for what seemed like a million years.
Finally, Ty spoke. “I haven’t had a reason to trust many people in my life. I trusted you. That was a mistake.”
“Ty . . . I’m so sorry but . . .” Carter reached for Ty.
“Don’t touch me,” Ty said coldly, as though ice had invaded his veins.
Carter’s voice was haunted. “Can I try to explain?”
“No. You scared away the only person that I ever loved. You hurt the woman that I’d have given this all up for, and now she won’t talk to me.
