5. Torren
5
TORREN
PRESENT DAY
I hit the button on Sav’s gate, making sure to stare right into the camera, and wait for her security to buzz me in.
It used to be security would let any of us in based on our car license plates, but that’s changed recently. I used to practically live here, and now I’m treated like a fan, and I have to pretend it doesn’t sting.
I pull up the long cobblestone drive and park behind Mabel’s car. From the looks of it, everyone else is already here. Even Jonah, which is proof he’s still on the wagon. Jo’s only on time when he’s sober.
I climb out and nod a hello to the security she has stationed at the door, then let myself inside.
“Good. You’re here. Let’s begin,” Hammond clips immediately.
No hello . No how was traffic . No why are you late .
Ham’s all business, all the time. I suppose that’s a good quality to have in a manager, even if it annoys the shit out of me.
“Hello to you, too, Hammond. I’m great, thanks for asking. How are you? How’s your niece?”
He sighs. “I’m well, thanks. My niece is fine. Stop asking about her. You’re not her type.”
He goes back to ignoring me, so I throw myself onto the couch next to Jo. He hands me a bottle of electrolyte water from the coffee table without saying a word, and I fist-bump him in thanks. One thing about doing meetings at Sav’s instead of the label boardroom is that she’s got way better snacks. After a survey of the spread on the table, I grab a yogurt parfait and a spoon.
Hammond clears his throat. “Are you settled in now, Mr. King?”
I put a spoonful of parfait in my mouth and lick it clean before responding.
“Quite ready, Ham. Thanks for asking.”
He starts to ramble, and I tune him out. It’s all shit we’ve already been over. Album release, current charting single stats, what we’ll submit to the Grammys when the time comes. We’re still set to start the second leg of our US tour in a few days after our two-month break. We’ll spend three months touring in America before heading to Canada, and then to the UK after three more weeks of downtime.
That was one of Hammond’s stipulations for us staying with our label last year: more breaks interspersed throughout our tours and no legs longer than four months at a time. It was one of the things he wasn’t willing to budge on—no breaks, no downtime, and we walk. For as much shit as I’ve given Hammond over the years, he’s really come through for us, and I’m grateful. I won’t tell him that because he’ll lord it over me, but I am.
“Have you been writing?” Ham asks, and we all nod. We’ve probably got two albums worth of material right now. “Good. Great.”
Hammond goes silent and picks up a folder from the side table that I didn’t notice before. His expression is somber, and my spine straightens. I glance at Jonah, then Mabel, and then for the first time since I’ve arrived, Sav.
Everyone looks uncomfortable, and suddenly, I wish I weren’t late for the meeting.
“Now, you’ve all noticed we’ve had to amp up Savannah’s security recently. More so since the end of the first leg of the tour.”
I furrow my brow and look at Sav again. This time for longer than I usually allow. This time, I let myself see her.
She has circles under her eyes that I haven’t noticed before. Creases between her brows that almost look permanent. Her lips are chapped and dry. Even the way she’s sitting is out of character. Usually, Sav sprawls and takes up space. Right now? I’ve never seen her look so small. Even her dog, Ziggy, is lying protectively at her feet as if feeling her tension. Usually, that dog is an absolute menace.
Then I glance around the rest of the house, and my jaw tightens. There’s no noise. No sign of her boyfriend or his daughter. No sign of her mother.
“What’s going on?” I ask finally, and Hammond takes a deep breath.
“The stalker is back.”
“The same stalker? I thought he was arrested.”
Hammond shrugs. “Honestly, we don’t know for sure if it’s the same guy, but it would make sense. He made parole a few months ago, and since then, things have steadily gotten worse.”
“Things have gotten worse over the last few months? Why the fuck am I just finding out?”
“I didn’t want to worry you,” Sav says, her voice weak.
It’s like a punch to the chest. It just highlights how much we’ve changed in the last year. I used to be the first person she’d confide in. Now I’m on the fringes. Relegated to a footnote in her autobiography. I clench my teeth and shake my head.
“Did you guys know?”
I pose the question to the group, glancing around at my bandmates. Jonah shakes his head, but Mabel nods slowly.
“I knew.”
I sit back on the couch and look back at Hammond. “Well?”
“ Well , the tabloids over the last few months have started circulating more rumors that you and Savannah are back together.”
I shrug. I don’t pay attention to any of that shit anymore. Hammond rounds the corner of the couch and drops some papers in my lap. When I look at them, I feel the color leave my face.
They’re pictures of letters.
As I flip through them, I feel sick.
The letters call Sav a whore. They say she’s a cheating cunt. They call her out for getting back together with me. They say she deserves to die. Sav’s gotten letters before from stalkers and crazy fans, but they usually profess undying love. Call her their soulmate. Threaten suicide if she doesn’t respond. This is the first I’m learning of any death threats.
“The originals are with the police, but so far they have no leads.”
I look back at Sav. “Where’s Levi? ”
She bites her lip. “I sent him, Brynn, and Sharon back to North Carolina. I don’t want to put them in danger.”
“He just agreed to leave? You’re getting fucking death threats at your home, Savannah. He just left you ?”
“He doesn’t know. I didn’t tell him.” She drags her hand through her silver hair and sends me pleading eyes.
“You shouldn’t have to protect your boyfriend. He should be protecting you. You should have fucking told him,” I snap.
You should have fucking told me , I want to add, but I bite my tongue.
“Don’t do this right now, Tor. Please.”
The crack on the please guts me, and I flick my eyes back to Hammond. It hurts too much to see Sav in pain and not be able to hold her. That’s not my place anymore, and the guy whose place it is...well, she’s sent him off to protect him.
“We think since Levi and Sav’s relationship is so low profile, it’s not dramatic enough for the paps to cover, so it didn’t piss off the stalker. But now that the Torren King and Sav Loveless Toxic Love Affair is back in the media...Well, death threats.”
“Why didn’t she get death threats before? You know, when we were actually together?”
Mabel snorts out a derisive laugh.
“She did, dumbass. She just didn’t tell you because she wanted to protect you .”
Jesus fuck.
I tear my gaze from Mabel and look right at Sav. She refuses to meet my eyes, but her jaw pops. Her nostrils flare. Her eyes go glassy. When I speak, there’s no hiding the hurt—the betrayal —in my voice.
“You never should have hidden something like that from me.”
She shrugs but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t snap back like she would have before . Sobriety has done wonders for her temper.
“Right. Well, if your emotional outburst is over, I’d like to get to the point.”
Hammond’s matter-of-fact tone pisses me off, and I whip a glare at him. He doesn’t acknowledge me at all.
“We have two options right now. We postpone the tour?—"
“No,” Mabel, Jo, and Sav say collectively .
I’m the only one with fucking sense, apparently. Hammond arches a disapproving brow, like a teacher dealing with unruly school kids.
“ Or we find a way to snuff out the Torren and Sav media fire. We can send cease and desists, but unfortunately the damage is done. I don’t see a retraction working.”
“Bring Levi out of hiding,” Jo suggests, and Sav immediately shakes her head.
“Absolutely not. I’m not throwing him and Brynn to the wolves. They didn’t sign up for tha?—”
“Kinda did when he decided to get back with you,” I interrupt, and she shoots me a glare so violent, it could kill.
“I will not do that,” she says firmly, eyes still on me. “I will not subject them to this.”
I open my mouth to tell her it comes with the territory, but she slices a hand through the air and raises her voice.
“Do not. Do not, Torren.”
I clench my teeth.
“What makes you think that would even work?” Mabel asks. “Those assholes only care about what sells. They don’t care about the truth.”
Hammond pulls another magazine out of the folder and flashes the cover as he speaks.
“The only time the letters stopped was when this story was circulating. Now that it’s fizzled out, they’ve started back up. Got the first yesterday, only days after a gossip blog reported that the woman is out of the picture, and Sav and Torren are on again. Seems the relationship with Torren is the problem.”
I ignore the last sentence and focus on the magazine. It’s from three weeks ago when I was at the pier, and we had the mishap with the redhead. In the cover photo, she’s lying in my lap, and I seem to be caressing her face. I’ve never seen this picture. I meant it when I said I don’t pay attention to any of that bullshit anymore, but I did have paps throwing out questions about her for weeks after the incident. I ignore them as best I can, too, always rushing past with my head down. They only ever get two words from me: no comment. I don’t know why they still try.
The headline suggests it’s the start of a new romance. I lean in and look closer. In a few smaller photos at the bottom, there are more pictures of her. One of her outside of a convenience store wearing the same shirt she had on at the pier. One of her leaving a hotel wearing some sort of gray uniform. One of her stepping off a city bus.
“Who is this girl?” I ask, opening the magazine and flipping to the article.
I didn’t get her name at the pier, but I remember her eyes—green like moss. There’s something about them that tickles my memory. And her hair—the most unique blend of colors. Reds, browns, blondes. I feel like I’ve dreamed about it in a drugged-out slumber. Like I know her outline but nothing else. At the pier, there was something strangely familiar about her. Some magnetic pull that made me want to step closer. To touch her. To see if the feel of her could pull the whisper of something from the recesses of my memory. The word again kept circling in my mind. It’s doing it once more. Again again again.
I find the answer to my question in the article at the same time Hammond says it.
“Calla Lily Sunrise James. She’s twenty-three. Santa Monica native. Works at Bruno’s Market and the Oceanside Inn.”
I flip back to the cover and study the small photographs again. Nothing else jogs my memory. The name Calla Lily Sunrise James doesn’t ring any bells. A name like that stands out. She’s young, too. The only time I interact with people younger than me is at meet and greets, and she didn’t act as if she’d attend a meet and greet. But...there’s just something about her...
The longer I study the photographs, an idea begins to take shape. My need to help mixes with my interest in the girl, and the words fall out of my mouth without care.
“I’ll date her,” I say, and the room goes still. I glance up and find everyone staring at me. “A PR relationship,” I clarify. “Give the media something else to focus on.”
“Yeah, because fake relationships have really worked out so great for us in the past,” Mabel says sarcastically.
“Absolutely not,” Sav argues, shaking her head and pursing her lips before continuing. “That’s out of the question. We’re not doing that.”
“Why not?” I ask, my tone more biting than I intended.
“Because, Torren. Are you forgetting what happened last time? You’re not putting yourself through that again. Especially not for me. I won’t allow it.”
“It’s not really your decision.”
“It is my decision. It’s my stalker. My problem?—”
“It’s all of our problem, Savannah. You think this shit isn’t going to affect us, too?”
“He’s right,” Mabel cuts in. “It’s fucking with all of us.”
Savannah grits her teeth and shakes her head again, trying her best to put her foot down on the matter.
“No. We’ll figure something else out. Red has brought on another security detail for me. We’ve added more cameras. We’ve got an investigative team combing over every letter and point of contact. We’ll be fine. It will be fine soon. We don’t need Torren to do this.”
“Celebrities enter into fake relationships all the time,” Hammond says slowly. “It could work.”
“I said no , Ham. He’s not subjecting himself to that kind of media scrutiny again.”
“And this isn’t media scrutiny?” I say, referring to the recent uptick in relationship rumors about Sav and me. If it’s not this, it would be something else. And fuck, I’d much rather it be something else.
“We’re always under media scrutiny,” I continue. “At least this way, we’ll be ahead of it.”
“Torren, a fake relationship is a terrible idea. It was a terrible idea with you and me, and it’s a terrible idea now. It will only make things messier.”
I shrug her off like her words don’t sting. At her suggestion that our relationship was anything other than real.
“This will be different,” I say confidently.
“How?”
I make eye contact with Sav and keep my voice flat when I answer her.
“I won’t be in love with this one.”