Discretely breaking us apart, Tory checked us in with security, then led us to the elevators. When we were all squished into the car, the intimidating blonde focused on Kellan and me.
Glancing at where we were holding hands, she told us, “You’re primarily here to perform a song or two for them, but I’ve allowed them five minutes at the beginning of your set to ask you questions. Remember to keep the interview focused on the tour and your album. I’ve informed them not to ask you about your personal life, or anything about Sienna or the photo of Kiera, but they will probably try to sneak in a comment or two.” Her cool gaze slid my way. “You should probably stay in the hallway during the interview, so as to not provoke inappropriate questions.”
Face calm and composed, Kellan simply smiled. Taking that as an affirmative response, Tory twisted to face the elevator doors. Behind her back, Kellan flashed me a devilish smile, one that clearly said, Hell if I’m doing any of that. My heart surged with anxious adrenaline. God, I hoped I didn’t pass out.
When we got to the studio, I could see that the light was on—they were live. I felt nauseated but gave Kellan a confident smile. We could do this. I could do this. An intern for the radio station let us in. Looking confident and intimidating, Tory walked through first. Her hawklike eyes took in everything around her, but I was pretty sure she wasn’t going to see this coming.
A tall, middle-aged man standing behind a confusing board of switches and buttons smiled into the microphone when he saw our group entering. “The D-Bags have just arrived at the studio. Good to see you again, guys.”
Kellan reached over and shook the man’s hand. We’d been here before, during our whirlwind promo tour, and I instantly remembered something about this studio that I had forgotten about. They had web cameras set up in every corner of the room. Not only was the world going to hear our confession, they were going to see it too.
Indicating a group of chairs set up for the band, the DJ told us, “Have a seat.”
As Matt, Evan, and Griffin sat down, Kellan turned to a grizzly looking DJ behind a laptop. “Can we get an extra chair?” He indicated me with his head.
The man looked confused, then surprised, like he recognized me. Hopping up, he told Kellan, “Sure, no problem.”
As a chair was set up for me beside Kellan’s, I risked a glance at Tory. She was glowering; she hadn’t wanted me in the room. She wasn’t putting a stop to it yet, but she might when we started speaking.
An attractive brunette behind another laptop beamed at the boys. “It’s so nice to have you back. How have you been?” Her eyes focused on Kellan first, locked on me, shifted to the rest of the boys, then locked back on me. I could feel the curiosity emanating from her.
As headphones were set up on the guys, a microphone was handed to Kellan. He wasted no time in starting the conversation that I was both dreading and looking forward to. “Not so great, actually.”
All of the DJs’ eyes lit up as they stared at Kellan. People generally did not speak the truth when asked that question. It truly was just a nicety to smooth the path before the real questions were introduced. The woman flicked her gaze between Kellan and me, like she knew everything that had been going on with Kellan—in the gossip-verse, at least. By the eager expression on her face, it was clear that seeing me in the studio at Kellan’s side, but not being able to say anything about it, had been driving her crazy; she was hoping for some answers. And she wasn’t going to be disappointed.
She cautiously indicated me. “I can imagine things have been . . . rough . . . lately?”
She flicked a glance at Tory, who was already giving the DJs a “cut” gesture. Kellan looked over at Tory, held a finger up to her, then glanced back at the DJ. “I need to clear the air about a few things. I know we were supposed to perform for you today, but I would like to do an interview instead. Do you mind?” Every radio person in the room shook their head. Kellan pointed at me. “Can she get some headphones?”
Several people jumped at once to get me some, but, seeing our resolve and knowing what we were doing, Evan handed me his. With trembling fingers, I took them, thanked him, and put them on. God, I was going to throw up.