“Oh my! You didn’t know? Haha! This is too delicious!” Davis pauses for effect before continuing. “You were the bet, my dear. You! Or rather, the pitiful little thing that was trying to sing up onstage at the open mic was. All he had to do was get you into the charts in a single month. And by God, he did it!”
I shake my head, rolling my eyes, wondering why in the hell this guy thinks I’d trust in a man who looks like he’s wearing somebody else’s face. “Bullshit. Why would Brando take a bet like that? He’s not stupid. What would he get out of it?”
Davis’ smile gets so wide that I can see the lines of his face lift. I feel somebody tug my arm.
“Haley, you need to get moving, like, now!” I glance in the direction of the voice, a nervous-looking runner standing to the side. I shake his arm off and glare back at Davis.
“You’re right, he’s certainly not stupid. Not at all. But every man has his price. Brando’s was ten grand and the pick of my acts – or, to be more specific, as it is rather obvious, don’t you think? – Lexi Dark.”
The words hit like a punch, knocking me out of my body. I freeze and stare, grasping for some sense of reality.
“Rather a bizarre proposition, when you think about it,” Davis continues. “To build up an entirely new star just to get his old one back – but then again, it was never about the business with Brando. A man like that will do anything for love. Anyway, I’ve got to go grab my seat. I’m looking forward very much to your performance!”
He backs away slowly.
“Make it a good one, Haley! You’ll have some competition from this point on! Hah!”
He disappears. A man says something about taking our spots. I feel hands pressing my shoulders, voices calling me, and I close my eyes, wet and misted. When I open them Brando is standing in front of me, my bandmates standing around him.
“Haley! You okay? What’s the matter?”
I stare up at him, his eyes so trustworthy, his voice so calming – I could almost believe he actually cares.
“Commercial’s over in sixty seconds,” the runner says pleadingly to my left, “we’ve got to get going.”
“Are you okay?” he asks again, big and strong, a liar and a fraud.
“I was just a bet,” I mumble through a gurgling throat. “That’s all I was. A game you played.”
Brando’s eyes widen when he realizes I know, realizes he’s been found out.
“What? You… Wait, Haley. It’s not like that – I mean, it was, but it turned out different. Please Haley, don’t—”
I narrow my eyes, hurt and anger roiling inside me. “Just a way for you to get Lexi back.”
“Haley, no…”
“It’s time for us to take our spots, Haley, can’t you guys talk about this after?”
Brando nods at the band members to leave us and they go, leaving us alone – the last place I want to be, with the last person I want to be there with.
“What else was a lie?” I snarl through gritted teeth. “The story of your childhood? It being ‘all about the music’?”
“No, I didn’t lie. It was all true. Please Haley, you know it was. Surely you can feel that it was all tr—”
I smack him. Hard and fast. The tight, boiling pressure inside of me spiking so much I can’t hold it in anymore. He brings his hand to his cheek and turns back to face me, his face vulnerable. Another lie.
“You were right about one thing,” I say, raising my head and setting my shoulders back. “I am growing. And I’ve just outgrown you.”
I shove him aside, grab my guitar from the couch and march out to set. Full of determination, full of bravado, full of pain and fury and an unbreakable resolution to trust myself, and only myself, from this moment on.
Chapter 17
Brando
Nobody tells you that girls hit the hardest, but they do. A good hit from a guy will knock you out, leave a nasty bruise, a black eye – but you’ll wake up, heal up. A girl can cleave your heart in two forever with a slap you barely feel, rip shreds out of your soul and leave you a walking zombie. Lexi was the first girl to teach me that.
Shit. This is familiar.
Then the show starts. First the announcer, then the audience, then the music. All muffled through the walls of the green room, but still impossible to ignore. Haley’s music is louder, harder, more exciting than I’ve ever heard her deliver before.
In a trance I leave the green room, passing through the backstage area slowly, the music getting clearer and louder. I remember the time I walked into the studio to find her singing her heart out, a revelation, a turning point. A realization that she was the one, that she’d save me. When I turn the corner to see her from the side stage, the revelation’s different this time. She’s still the one, but she won’t save me.
I feel a hand press on my shoulder with eerie gentleness. It’s Rowland.
“You were right, Brando. She’s going to be big.”
I try to speak, but all I can manage it a short, sharp sigh.
“Forget about our little disagreement,” he says, “I should have trusted you. You’ve worked wonders for Majestic Records tonight.”
I glare at him. “What are you talking about?”