“So, this is happening, huh?” he says casually, no judgement in his tone as he grabs the drink in front of him and takes a long sip.
It’s me who says, “It’s been happening.”
Nobody says a word, but Rylee shifts beside me—not away but not closer either.
“I’m sorry,” my best friend says, eyes focused on the squirming blonde to my right.
The discomfort radiating from her makes me want to hold her tighter, but I don’t. Giving her space, I look to Zayne. “Nobody has anything to apologize about. We’ve been through this before and we’ll get through it.”
“You know that’s not true,” the wary woman beside me says, and I know Rylee isn’t talking about our ability to make it past the hard shit.
Ice clinking in the glass of who knows what, my drummer loosens a sigh. “Don’t say it, okay? It’s in the past. Apologies aren’t going to do anything at this point. We’ve all clearly moved on.”
Have we? I don’t voice the doubtful question. I know that Zayne isn’t pining over Rylee, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t hurt over what happened.
A waitress comes by and asks us if we want drinks. I eye Zayne when he shakes his glass for a refill but press my lips together to stop myself from saying anything. He’s a stress drinker, and always has been. The night of our Halloween party, I didn’t see him open his beer once or slip away behind closed doors to do something he shouldn’t. He kept to himself, hidden away, mostly outside staring at the flowers Rylee planted. But something’s triggered him, and I have a feeling I’m part of it.
Rylee and I skip on the offer to join him, but I ask for two waters despite this conversation needing something stronger.
I decide to start the conversation as soon as the busty waitress walks away. “Grace and Michael have been fielding all our social media posts to make sure they’re weeding out the comments on our pages.” When Grace joined our last meeting, I could tell Rylee was drained. But there was something that loosened as soon as Grace, our best social media specialist who runs all of Violet Wonders pages, started explaining our plan of attack.
As much as it pained me to agree, she proposed Rylee shut down her private social media accounts for a while because it was hard to control all the messages, comments, and other derogatory things being posted once her name was found. And as hard as Grace tried clearing her email, that ended up being shut down too.
“They still want us to do a few sit-down interviews because Michael doesn’t know what the word ‘no’ means,” I continue, rubbing Rylee’s arm.
Zayne snorts. “You do realize he’s going to schedule them anyway hoping the pressure will make it impossible for you to back out of, right?”
It didn’t work for him before when I cancelled on Penny Gomez. “Considering he’s still trying to mend his relationship with Hot in Hollywood, I’d say he’d be smart to stay cautious and actually listen to me for once.”
“Violet Wonders needs to start planning for the first single drop,” my drummer counters, sitting back in his spot and dragging his glass along the table with him. “They’re on all of us to start posting.”
“We just finished recording.”
“New bands come out of the woodwork every single day,” he points out. “Thanks to social media, more and more people are rising to the top with massive followings without a label attached. I hate to agree with the shit people have been saying, but we’re not new news anymore. We’re a band with a big following but we’re not getting the same attention we were just by dropping an album date and nothing else. There’s a lot more competition out there now.”
Scrubbing a hand down my face, I shake my head and lean forward. “That’s not what we should be talking about right now.”
“No?” he doubts. “You say you bought a ring and put it on a girl so you could draw attention away from the press coming at the band. But look where that got us.”
Teeth grinding, I reply, “I was helping you. Do you know how many times I was asked by everyone on the team what happened between us to make you quit again? Again, mate. I had to find out from fucking TMZ that you got drunk and started rambling to some stranger about Violet Wonders. I didn’t get angry. I asked you where your head was at, and you told me it was all bullshit. You said not to worry, so I didn’t.”
“I didn’t ask for your help, Garrick.”
Rylee shifts uncomfortably from the rising tension.
Sighing, I accept the water the waitress passes me and slide it in front of Rylee, then take the second for myself. “You never do. I’ve tried giving you space, but I’m worried. Your head isn’t in it. I don’t think it has been since we came back and started touring again.”
The worst thing he could do is stay silent and offer no reassurance. That’s what he does.
“Look,” I reason, eyeing the waitstaff on standby before turning back to him. “We’ve had our issues. We go about things our own way and don’t consult each other first. So, I’ll ask you one more time, Zayne. Where is your head at with the band? Is this really what you want to do? Because the more you refuse my help dispersing the media coming after you, the more I’m starting to question if you wanted them paying attention to begin with.”
He scuffs in offense. “You think I honestly want them talking about me all the time? I liked my life
