My entire body crumpled with disappointment.
Mike Pearson sighed. “Ty, remember she’s only twenty. You are twenty-four now, with a new car, fame, success. She will be in law school this fall, it is very intense and requires a lot of dedication.”
“She never told me that she wanted to be a lawyer.” I studied her dad’s expression.
“Zoey is only now discovering what is possible for herself. You are already achieving your dreams, even an old guy like me hears your songs on the radio every other minute.” He continued to pat my hand. “Look, give me your number and I’ll tell her you stopped by.”
Although I gave Mr. Pearson my number, something about the conversation felt like the final nail in our coffin. Instinctively, I knew that she wouldn’t contact me. It was over. With a belly full of acid, I said my goodbyes and left.
A few days later, I woke up and saw that I had a voicemail from a number I didn’t recognize. My heart pounded. I hit play.
Hi Ty, it’s Zoey. My dad gave me your number. I don’t know what to say to you. It hurts too much for me to talk to you. I’m sorry. I’m finally feeling somewhat normal. I hope you are too. The band’s doing great. You look like you’re taking to fame well. I wish you all the best and to continue your amazing success. I know you want to talk to me, but I’m about to start law school and it will be so intense that I just can’t. I hope you understand, but every time you reach out it makes it harder. For both of us. I think its best if you let me go.
Hearing her speak for the first time in two years was jarring. She sounded so disengaged and aloof, until the last bit when her voice broke. I listened to the message a few times and began to harden my heart against her.
“Fuck this. It’s over,” I bitterly muttered to myself before throwing the phone across the room.
Resolving to do as she asked and let her go, I devoted all my energy to writing new songs and honing the songs I had already written into masterpieces. I’d get back at Zoey once and for all by pouring my thoughts, feelings, and emotions—good and bad—into my lyrics and melodies. Soon, the whole world would hear about how much I loved her and how she fucked me over.
When we went back into the studio, it was cathartic and like catching lightning in a bottle. Instead of hard-driving, cheerful power rock, these recordings were darker and more personal. A nearly complete reversal of style. Shine, Butterfly, and Down were some of the songs chronicling my anguish, anger, and acceptance about Zoey.
I unleashed every ounce of emotion into my vocal tracks which, when permeated by Zane’s haunting guitar riffs, came out exactly how I felt. Jace and Connor’s rhythm section created a thumping, pulsing heartbeat that ebbed and flowed with the melody.
Carter and I fully reconciled after I realized he was truly remorseful for imposing his own history on Zoey and ultimately destroying our relationship. He repaid me by producing our new recordings, and the reward for LTZ was a powerfully produced album of hits. A journey of a man’s heartbreak from heavy to beautiful to melancholy to ethereal. When the five of us sat in Carter’s living room listening to the final masters, we knew we had magic. An elusive unicorn album that every band strived for, but few achieved.
The world would soon learn more than they ever dared about the elusive Tyson Rainier.
When the Z album was released, one song at a time over a six-month period and then the entire album as a whole, critics and fans went wild. No one had released music that way before, and each song shot to the top of the charts and stayed there for over two years, crushing the statistics of every record released in the digital age.
The cycle we went through on our first album repeated—touring, festivals, interviews, television appearances, more Grammys. This time, as a more successful band, we had more perks and learned that with increased fame came increased responsibilities.
Everyone all around the world wanted to know who “Z” was. It was the single question that everyone asked any of us about. We all decided that she wasn’t a public figure and didn’t deserve to have her world turned upside down while she was in law school. Jace did an amazing job of scrubbing our social channels of Zoey. It was a good decision. Some of our fans, well my fans, categorically raked “Z” over the coals on our pages, so it was just as well that no one knew her true identity.
For Jace, it was a turning point. He couldn’t keep up with our social and marketing, so we decided to hand both over to a publicity firm. After so many years of working basically two full-time-plus jobs, he rightfully wanted to have a little more flexibility and freedom in his schedule. We all suspected he had a secret girlfriend somewhere, but he remained tight-lipped.
Our new publicity team, Andrew Nolan and Sienna King, were more than on board to help me dirty up my image a bit. I became their dream client, diving headfirst into the whirlwind rock-star life during what my bandmates privately called my “booze and sex” phase. With unlimited access to a new “elite” lifestyle, Andrew and Sienna saw to it that I didn’t miss any party, celebrity event, or red-carpet opportunity.
I never paid much attention to how my antics played out in the media. Mostly, I checked out completely and got lost in whatever the experience of the day was. Drinking, partying, getting high, getting my dick sucked, fucking in public. Our publicists encouraged me to be deviant and shocking. With an
