Fuck, yeah. My dad, Tyler and Jordan will be freaking out. I look around the bedroom trying to think where I last had my phone. I pick my jeans up from last night and find it in the pocket. It’s on silent and I have dozens of missed calls. I text both my brothers and tell them I’m fine and ask them to call my dad. Then I call Tyler first.
“What the fuck’s going on, Reed? Jenna and Ethan are fucking beside themselves here, and Sandra’s trying to stop Dad from getting on a plane over there.”
My headache increases tenfold at the thought of what they’ve all been going through. “I’m sorry, the police wouldn’t let me talk to anyone.” I take a few deep breaths. “Ty?”
“What mate, what’s happened? Just tell me you’re okay? Ethan’s in meltdown. It came up on his Twitter feed that you were dead, then all his mates started texting and Facebooking him. Dad’s here, he couldn’t sit at home waiting for news, and Sandra wouldn’t let him catch a flight to you, so he came here. What the fuck’s happened?” I can hear the panic in his voice.
“I’m okay Ty, its Jet...” I pause for a few seconds, “It’s Jet, he killed himself. I found him in the bath and…” I trail off. I don’t want to be doing this. I don’t want to be explaining this again. “Ty, tell dad, Jen and the kids I love them and I’m sorry. I had to give a statement and I couldn’t make any calls till it was done.” Again, my thoughts are a scrambled mess. I just want to go home now. Go home and be with my family. “Tell Ethan not to repeat any of that. Let them all know that I’m okay, but they can’t post anything online till Jet’s dad has been told.”
I hear him sigh into the phone. “So I take it you won’t be home tonight?”
“No, no I won’t. I’ve gotta go to the police station and make a formal statement and then there’ll be the funeral. It’s pointless coming home just to fly back, and the press will be up my arse everywhere I go anyway.” I look around and realise everyone’s on their phones. Dom’s still in my bathroom, Lawson’s out in the living area and Gun’s still sitting in the chair he was in earlier. I’m not sure who he’s talking to, but he is wiping tears from under his eyes. He’s a big bloke, always working out. His arms are bigger than my legs and he’s probably taller than me by a couple of inches. Watching him cry is just breaking my heart right now, but I still manage to keep a hold of my own tears.
“You gonna be all right on your own with all of that, Reed? I can fly over if you want?” Now I really want to cry.
“I’m all right Ty, honestly. You stay there with Dad, Jenna and the kids. If you have any trouble with the press, ring Sharee at the label on the number I gave you before.”
“Have you rung, Jord?”
“No. Can you do it now? I’ll talk to him and Dad tomorrow. I just ain’t up to explaining it all again.”
“Yeah, no problem mate, I can do that.”
“Cheers.”
“Reed?” I hold my breath, waiting for my brother’s words to come, hoping that they won’t break me.
“I love you, bro.”
“I know you do Ty. I know you do.”
“You stay safe, yeah, and if you need me or Jordy to fly over just shout.”
“I will, I will. I’ll speak to you over the next coupla days and let you know when I’ll be home.”
“I’m so sorry, Reed. I’m so sorry about, Jet.” We end our call.
I leave Dom and Gunner to their conversations and head out to the kitchen in search of some painkillers, just as the buzzer on the door goes. Lawson’s still talking and nods with his head for me to get it. I make sure the security latch is on before I open the door, just in case it’s a crazy fan. It’s worse, much worse. Amanda’s standing in front of me as I look through the gap. I swing the door open and walk away leaving her standing there. She’s so not who I want to see at this moment. I sit on the sofa, reach for the remote control and then change my mind, not wanting to watch the bullshit that’s likely on the telly right now.
“I’ve booked a room and organised a press conference for three o’clock. Marty Goldman from the label is with Jet’s dad now. I’ve cancelled everybody’s travel arrangements and arranged first-class tickets for Gunner’s in-laws. They should be here in the morning. I’ve organised extra security and the hotel has agreed to supply some of their own.” I listen to Amanda’s clear, clipped English accent coming from behind me as she informs Lawson of what she has arranged.
“Do you want someone from the funeral home to make contact with Mr. Harrison or should I leave him to make his own arrangements?”
“No, send someone over. Marty’s telling him that we’ll take care of the arrangements. Can you organise some food to be sent up? Reed, what d’ya fancy mate?” I look over my shoulder and can’t help but notice the way Amanda’s eyes are on me.