Chapter 9
9
Valerie
What happened at rehearsal is my fault.
I should have gone anywhere but back to the hotel room, but I left in such a rush of sadness and shame that I wasn’t thinking clearly. I could have called some friends, gone to a bar, let off steam. Instead, I’m watching cars slog through early-evening traffic out the window.
But if I’d gone out, I would have just spent the whole night thinking about Caleb. Guilt churns in my stomach as I remember the sheer panic on his face today. I haven’t given him a single reason to believe me over the label—I just threw him into all of this and expected him to read my mind. No strategy, no boundaries, not even a real apology. I’ve made such a mess and it’s only been two days.
Maybe, if things were different, we could be talking about a new album. I’d love to write music together again—but I’d never force Caleb into something he doesn’t want…at least, not more than I already have. A new album only exists in my wildest dreams.
I wish it didn’t. In another life, this summer could be a relaunch instead of a reunion. Even in one weekend of messy rehearsals, I’ve felt more creative than I’ve been in years. But the Glitter Bats are back for one final bow, and that’s it.
All of my focus needs to be on Epic Theme Song .
I should have warned Caleb. Label likes to call Wade every six months or so, to try to convince us to bring the band back together. Last year, they even had a truly terrible plan to bring in a new bass player, and we made it very clear that replacing Caleb wasn’t on the table.
Label can be manipulative. They’re a big-enough company, but when we were all just kids, they had us sign a truly heinous record deal. But it was legal enough. That was the steep cost of my mom’s mismanagement—before Wade signed on and taught us we deserved better.
They’re footing the bill for everything leading up to the concert, because all this press increases merch and record sales, and they’ll get the bulk of the concert revenue (after our checks). But they also want more Glitter Bats, and they don’t care if it means pitting us against one another.
A knock on my door shakes me out of my pity party. At first, I think it might be Caleb, but Keeley’s the one leaning against the doorframe. She rubs her neck sheepishly.
“Can we talk?”
I swallow, unsure what to expect. Keeley and I also need to clear the air. Yeah, she was awful to me in that first rehearsal…but I made it worse. We’ve been tiptoeing around the tension ever since.
“Yeah, of course. Come in,” I say.
She runs a hand through her short hair but doesn’t move to come inside. “Look, I can’t stay. I have a call in five minutes to talk about a potential gig—but I need to apologize.”
I blink, taken aback. “What? No, I’m the one who needs to apologize.”
“Oh, I’ll take it, but let me get this out,” she says, grinning sheepishly. “I’ve, uh, been super bitter about how everything went down with Glitter Bats. When you left, Jane, Riker, and I tried to stick together, but our careers took us all in such different directions. The three of us have gotten together a few times over the years, but it was never the same. I think I’ve held you responsible for it all.”
That explains a few things, and it’s entirely fair. This weekend has felt so tense and awful. The Keeley I knew was blunt, and would hold a fierce grudge for a few days, but then got over it pretty fast. She’s a firecracker who will explode, then fizzle out.
But she’s been holding this in for years , and that just shows how much I hurt her when I left. My chest tightens, and I lean against the doorframe to steady myself. It’s always my instinct to defend myself at the slightest provocation, but I know I have to take responsibility for this…and not just for the sake of the concert. I miss my friend.
“Look, I’m really sorry for how I spoke to you yesterday.” I pause, swallowing thickly. “And for the way I left you all in Vegas and never looked back. I was selfish and careless, and you deserved better.” If I’d thought of everyone else instead of my own rise to the top for just one moment…we really could be on album number five by now. “I’m responsible for tearing us all apart.”
The Glitter Bats could still be rocking, and maybe Caleb and I could have had a chance.
“No, you’re not.” She puts her hands on her hips, laughing nervously. “Okay, yeah, you kind of are, but it took seeing just how unfair Caleb was to you today for me to reflect on my own behavior. So I went for a walk after rehearsal and figured out my shit. I’m sorry I never bothered to reach out to you after Vegas. It’s not like you changed your number. I could have called you, checked in.”
I shake my head. “You shouldn’t have had to.”
She smiles sadly at me. “Yeah, I should. Your friendship still matters to me, even if I’m still a little mad at you.”
“Keels—”
She interrupts me, her voice going dry. “No. I know I can never fully understand what happened between you two, or why you left. For what it’s worth, I forgive you for all of it. I know you’re trying to make this work, so I’ll try to have an open mind going forward instead of dwelling on ancient history that doesn’t help anyone.”
My eyes sting, and I blink quickly, trying to recover. “Wow, thank you for saying that.”
She smirks. “You forgive me too, right?”
I laugh, and all the tension between us snaps. “Of course I forgive you. We’re still family.”
“You bet your ass we are.” She shakes her head but pulls me into a tight hug. I forgot how great Keeley’s hugs are, like she’s holding on with her whole body—probably the product of her being in a close, loving family.
She draws back and glares at me. “You be careful with Caleb, though. He’s still so soft, and I think this whole pretend romance thing is a bad idea.”
“He told you about that?”
She rolls her eyes. “He didn’t have to. I’ve been online. But I think it’s just going to complicate all of this, and we have enough old wounds.”
I bite my lip, heaviness sinking into my chest. “Well, I doubt he’ll be on board now.”
She raises a brow. “You know that man would do literally anything for you, right? He’ll get over today and play along. Just…don’t break his heart again.”
Who’s going to stop him from breaking mine? I want to ask, but Keeley’s phone rings, and she waves and hurries down the hall to her own room.
The thing is, I don’t want to break Caleb’s heart. I also don’t know how to convince Caleb that I’m not scheming to make him record an album. But maybe if I just apologize for the way this all started, that’ll be enough to get him to trust me again.
Hell, it’s worth a try. So I listen at the door connecting our rooms until I hear him shuffling next door, and I knock.
It’s loud enough that I’m sure he’ll hear it but soft enough that he can ignore me if he’d rather just pretend he didn’t. I don’t want to push him, especially if he’s already feeling vulnerable.
But after a couple of heartbeats, he opens the door a crack. His hair is damp and his face is flushed, like he’s just taken a shower, and his white T-shirt clings to his pecs in a distracting way.
A way I can’t think about if I’m going to get all of this out.
“Can I come in?” I ask. And forget butterflies—my nerves are swarming in my stomach like agitated bees.
“Sure,” he says quietly, eyes downcast.
His room is identical to mine but flipped, like stepping into a mirror dimension. It’s weird to know our beds are only separated by a thin wall. For a few precious years, nothing separated us at all. But I shove those memories away and turn to face him. His eyes are tired, but there’s no ice left in his gaze.
“I’m sorry,” we both say at once. We stare at each other for a second, and then laugh.
“Me first,” I say. “I really should have warned you about Label. They’ve been on our case about GB3 for years, since our contract is still valid, but I didn’t think they’d try to sink their claws back into you so quickly.”
He sighs, running a hand over his hair. “I should have seen it coming—Wade warned us, and I knew they were involved.”
“Yeah, but still. I should have warned you too.”
He grins ruefully. “I should have heard you out instead of assuming the worst. Anxiety got the best of me, but that’s never an excuse. I’m truly sorry for my behavior.”
“I really don’t blame you.” I hate that I made him anxious, and I kind of wish he’d yell at me more. I deserve it. I ruined everything back then, and it’s up to me to prove I won’t repeat past mistakes now.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, Keeley called me a dick for how I acted.”
“Of course she did.” I laugh. “Still, you have every right to assume the worst in me. You’re right that I have selfish reasons to do the concert—but now that we’re all together, it also feels right, doesn’t it? Like after all those years of rumors and distance we can finally come together and send Glitter Bats off in style.” I don’t voice my hope that things could continue after this concert, because he’ll never want that. It would just drive him away even faster.
He nods, sinking onto the bed. “Yeah, it’s been too long since we were all together. It’d be a shame to leave this all behind without seeing it through.”
My stomach unclenches a little, and I let out a long breath. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
He clears his throat. “So…do you want to go grab dinner and talk through some things? Just the two of us?”
I flush. “Are you sure? If we’re seen, that’ll start more rumors.”
He rolls his shoulders, then nods. “Don’t we want to encourage those anyway?”
It’s more than I’d hoped for. I sink onto his chair and tuck my feet under me, still anxious. “We should talk about it more before we decide to do anything. I know you’re already uncomfortable with this reunion, and it wasn’t fair of me to throw this at you. I feel like I forced you into it.”
He smiles, and it makes my knees a little weak. God, I need to keep it together. “We should talk about it. You can tell me everything your publicist said, and I’ll make an informed decision after that. Besides, I’m already here for the reunion and, well…it’s not like the fans aren’t talking about us anyway. What’s a little acting for the cameras?”
Acting. Right. “I’d love to grab dinner and tell you all about it. What did you have in mind?”
“Thai?”
“Oh my gosh, yes. There’s a great place a couple blocks from here.”
“Sounds perfect. Meet back here in ten?”
“Fifteen,” I say. I really should shower, but at least I can change into fresh clothes and touch up my makeup.
“Of course,” he laughs as I slip into my own room.
After I’ve changed and popped back over to meet him, I feel less anxious about invading his space—it’s more like we’re our old selves, constantly in each other’s orbit. Jane texts us that the rest of the band went to get sushi, so we feel fine going to do our own thing. We decide it’s best to call a car this time, and it’s not long before we’re on our way to Thai food.
The restaurant is quiet since it’s on the early side for dinner, but hopefully that means we can escape without incident. Soft overhead lights cast a warm glow around the dining room, and we tuck ourselves away in a green vinyl booth in the back. I order the spiciest noodle dish on the menu, while Caleb sticks to a milder curry.
“Come on, the spice is good for your sinuses,” I joke as we hand menus off to the waiter.
“And terrible for my stomach, thank you,” he says.
“Fine, fine. I respect that.”
We make small talk as we wait for our food to arrive, which happens in record time. But we stay carefully away from talk about the industry as we start to eat. He tells me more about teaching, and his family, and I learn all about the trials and tribulations of running a social media strategy for a dog. Once he’s relaxed, leaning against the back of the pleather seat and smiling across the table at me, I tell him what my publicist said: that my bad reputation has a lot to do with who I date, but just the appearance of being with someone as well-liked as Caleb could go a long way to improving my status in the public eye.
“Okay. Let’s do it,” he says, before leaning in for another bite of curry, like he’s agreeing to the most innocuous thing in the world. I’m so surprised that I stutter, and I have to take a sip of my iced tea to steel myself.
“Okay, so ground rules,” I say, clearing my throat. “We’ll let the media speculate about our relationship, but we’re not going to do anything either of us is uncomfortable with. Holding hands should be fine? Probably no kissing.”
“Right,” he says, flushing a little. But maybe that’s just because it’s warm in the restaurant.
My mouth goes dry, but I know we need to set this next boundary, even if it hurts. “We’ll send any serious band-related inquiries through Wade, but we won’t even hint at a new album—or any future for the band after the concert.”
“Yes, I won’t budge on that. No tours, no albums, nothing after August 15,” Caleb says, and my heart sinks. But I know it’s for the best. “We’ll make sure the others are in at brunch tomorrow.”
It’s best if we all make this decision as a group. We might not be a family anymore, but we used to be. This was never just about me and Caleb.
“Agreed,” I say. “And now I need dessert.”
There’s an incredible cupcake place just down the block, so I pay the bill before Caleb can protest.
“You know I’m not destitute, right? I can pay for my own dinner,” he grumbles, but I don’t miss the relief in his eyes. The check wasn’t an insignificant factor in getting him to agree to the reunion.
But I also know Caleb has a little pride. His family always struggled a bit, and he took a lot of responsibility for making his own money and contributing when he could, even before the Glitter Bats. I wonder if he still does that, or if his mom has stepped up and actually takes care of Carrie.
“Think of it as an apology dinner,” I say. “And if you’re really bothered by it, you can buy my cupcakes.”
Once the server comes back with my card, I leave a tip and lead the way out of the restaurant and down to Magic Cupcake.
“Okay, this place looks incredible,” Caleb says. “You were right.”
“I know that,” I say, grinning at him. It’s a rainbow of colors, both on the walls and behind the pastry counter. The cupcakes are huge and they serve every flavor you can imagine, so I order myself a single caramel bourbon one while he chooses a vanilla Earl Grey. Just like at the Thai restaurant, we tuck ourselves into a booth in the back of the shop.
“Oh my god,” Caleb moans after his first taste, the sound practically pornographic. Heat runs down my spine. I’ve heard that moan too many times before to be left completely unaffected, but I try to remember it’s just a really good cupcake. I play it cool as I take my own bite.
“Good, right?” I ask.
“Amazing,” he says around a mouthful.
“I discovered this place when I was doing callbacks for Epic Theme Song , and I always try to stop by when I’m in the city,” I say. It became my treat for getting through long rehearsals—something my therapist insisted I try to fight burnout.
“I can see why,” he says. “Do you like it? Doing TV?”
I take another bite, considering his question for a moment. There are parts of TV I really hate, but I don’t want to share that with him. Even being jaded, I don’t want to discount the meaningful parts of the work. Hell, it’s why I’m still fighting for the show.
“I didn’t think I would—and it’s really different from playing music—but there’s something really special about storytelling for an audience. I know we do that with our songs, but the fans really adore this show. It’s an honor to play a bisexual character who’s allowed to have love interests of different genders, and I’ve had so many fans reach out to tell me how they feel seen .”
He smiles. “That’s really cool. And you’re fantastic in the role, so it totally makes sense that people would connect in that way.”
I blush, suddenly feeling shy. “You’ve seen the show?”
Caleb nods, his own cheeks reddening. “I mean, I haven’t watched every episode, but Carrie always puts it on when she visits. She really looks up to you.”
“I know,” I admit, folding my cupcake wrapper into careful triangles. “We’ve…stayed in touch. She’s actually how I found you.”
“She never told me that,” he says ruefully, folding his hands on the table and leaning forward. “Then again, I’m not surprised. She probably wasn’t sure how I’d react.”
“You’re not mad, are you? We don’t talk about you,” I say quickly. “We mostly just chat about music. She sends me recordings of her playing, and I offered to write her a letter of recommendation for college applications.”
His eyes widen. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to, and that’s why I offered,” I say. “She’s incredibly talented. I may not be a classical musician or anything, so my recommendation might not hold much weight, but I want to support her. She deserves every opportunity to pursue her art.”
Caleb leans back, smiling. “Thank you. That really means a lot.”
“Your family has always felt like mine. I know I don’t get to, like, claim that anymore, but I can do this,” I admit.
He opens his mouth to say something, but we’re interrupted by soft voices.
“Excuse me?” they say. We turn to see a group of kids hanging nervously back. They look like they’re about college age, and they’re dressed like…well, us. Band tees, black jeans, flannel. They look like Glitterbugs, but they’re not in our face about it.
They’re so nervous, I want to offer them a hug. But since Caleb is the one who hasn’t been in the spotlight for years, I follow his lead.
“Hi, I’m Caleb,” he says.
“Oh my god, we know,” one of them says. She’s Black with long braids and a wrist full of rainbow bracelets, and she can’t be much older than we were when Glitter Bats took off. “I’m Sophie! We’re all so excited for the reunion!”
“Thank you so much. What are your names?” Caleb asks, gesturing to the others.
“I—” the one on Sophie’s right starts, then stops, staring at Caleb’s shoes.
“They’re Whit, and they’re totally obsessed with you,” Sophie says brightly to him.
Whit—a white kid with freckles and a blue shag cut—blushes. “Shut up. As if you didn’t have Valerie as your lock screen all last year.”
“That was fan art of Wendy the Wonder kissing Shadowgirl!” Sophie says, but she doesn’t look embarrassed.
The guy on her left—a taller Asian boy with short hair and gauged ears—rolls his eyes. “I’m Aiden, and I’ll get my friends out of your hair.”
Caleb and I share a look, and understanding passes between us. This is the good stuff, as far as fan interactions go. It’s low pressure, and even though we just met them, they all seem like genuinely nice kids.
“We’re not in any hurry. Do you want to take a seat for a minute?” Caleb asks them gently.
Something about Caleb puts them at ease, and they join us in the booth and start to talk—not about our relationship but about songwriting. We learn they’re all second-year music students at a nearby university, and after some prompting, they have a few polite questions about the industry. Eventually, Aiden is the one to ask us for a group photo.
“If it’s okay with Valerie,” Caleb says.
“Absolutely,” I say, smiling at him. We flag down a staff member, who happily takes a photo with the promise the trio will tag the store.
“Can you wait, like, ten minutes to post that?” Caleb asks, lowering his voice as if to share a secret. “Valerie and I need a little time to make our escape.”
“Of course! We completely understand,” Sophie promises. “You don’t want to get mobbed.”
“I mean, we’re not Beyoncé-famous, but we’ve found it’s usually safest to post where we’ve been , not where we are ,” he says. And then his posture changes. “Actually, you should all do that. You know it’s safer not to share your exact location on social media.”
I laugh. This must be Caleb’s teacher mode, and it’s kind of adorable. And then I remember something.
“Let me get your full names, though, if that’s okay,” I say, pulling out my own phone and opening my Notes app. “VIP sales aren’t up yet, but we should be able to get you on the list.”
“Oh my gosh, are you serious?” Whit asks, raising their hands to their mouth in excitement.
“Absolutely.” I fish one of Wade’s cards out of my purse with my free hand. “If you have any trouble, call this guy.”
After a chorus of thank-yous, the group leaves.
“That’s the part I always loved,” Caleb says quietly. “Talking to fans about the music, knowing it made a difference to them.” Suddenly, I’m filled with memories of all the things we shared. Back when it was just about the music and nothing else. I was so creatively fulfilled when we wrote together, and Caleb challenged me artistically in a way I haven’t felt since.
I wish I could have that back.
“I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed this,” I admit.
“Same,” he says, and those devastating green eyes lock onto mine. I almost think he’s talking about more than fans and cupcakes. For the first time all summer, I feel like we’re on the same page, and I want nothing more than to make this night last.
But I know I can’t.
I clear my throat. “Uh, we should get back to the hotel before that photo goes up.”
He blinks, startling out of our staring contest. “Right. Let’s go.”