Chapter 10 #2
All I managed to say was “Braden is a good guy—probably the best guy I know. You have good instincts.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” she said, a silly lilt in her voice. “And you have good taste.”
We laughed, tapping our paper cups together as if in a toast, as I basked in the glow of finding my first real friend.
Through the next week, we continued practicing—and Zack promised the label we’d be ready to enter the studio by mid-July.
The rest of us weren’t so sure, especially because we hadn’t eliminated any of the fifteen songs…
and the more we played them, the more they felt like they all belonged on our next album.
But just a couple of days after Amped in Anaheim, we all got an email from Russ, the publicist at Crushed Velvet.
Braden sent me a text, telling me to check my email.
The subject line was a bit intimidating: Urgent: Unapproved Media Circulation.
Response Needed ASAP. Because I hadn’t looked at my inbox in a couple of days, I was relieved to see this correspondence had just been sent earlier that morning.
The content of the email itself, while overly dramatic, was surprising.
In it, Russ asked Braden and me to confirm our relationship status because they needed to write a press statement about it.
But I wondered why he’d sent it to Zack and Cy too—maybe because, as part of the band, they were affected somehow.
Immediately, I was pissed. First off, why the hell was it the label’s business if Braden and I were seeing each other?
Who cared? Even though we’d tried to keep it quiet, I didn’t really care if anyone knew—but it was nobody’s business but our own.
Zack must have already known about something like that, asking Roxy to keep our relationship off the record, because the label apparently wanted to control every aspect of our lives.
Why the fuck hadn’t they cared that much about Zack’s addiction issues? Was it because that was “typical” rock star behavior?
As I read over the email again, I couldn’t help but wonder if that news had somehow been leaked by Roxy…just as I was starting to feel like we could become best friends. What else of my supposedly off-the-record remarks would come out? I started to panic.
There was a link in the email, so I clicked it.
It went to the “gossip” section on the Ferocity website—and there it was: a picture of Braden and me at the festival kissing.
My blood turned boiling hot as I realized where the photo had come from—the supposed fan who’d asked me to take a selfie with her.
I was confused. Maybe Roxy had had someone posing as a fan working for her? And the picture was just too juicy to keep under wraps?
But the article highlighted a social media post with the caption Brayden and Dani from OUAR getting romantic!
The fact that whoever had originally posted it spelled Braden’s name wrong made me wonder if maybe it wasn’t Roxy.
The gossip post—with the picture attributed to someone named C.
Rose—was short, and no authors were listed on that page.
Braden called. “Are you okay going public? If not, we could—”
“No, that’s fine.” There was a chance we could be spotted again holding hands or something, and I didn’t want to lie. The most important people in our lives already knew. “Do you want me to email Russ back?”
“I can if you want. I’ll just tell him we started dating after the tour and let them do whatever the hell they want to.”
“Okay. Sounds good.”
“Sorry about that.”
Again, Braden melted my heart with his considerate nature. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault someone took a picture of us without permission.”
Hoping to lighten the mood, I said, “At least it wasn’t a sex tape.”
The sound that came through my phone resembled a cough. “Yeah. No shit. You okay?”
I assured him I was and asked the same before hanging up. And then I decided to send a text message to Roxy. Let me know when you have a minute to talk.
Just minutes later came her reply: Now’s good. Call when you’re ready.
So I did. “Have you seen the gossip stuff on your website?”
“Yeah, once in a while.”
“Braden and I were leaked.”
“How? What happened?”
I had to stop myself from accusing her. She hadn’t taken the photo—and that was clearly what had fueled the speculation. So I told her about the girl at the festival who’d taken my picture—and that she’d been pointing her phone at Braden and me before that, so I knew she was the one who’d taken it.
“So what are you guys gonna do?”
“We decided to confirm it through Crushed Velvet’s publicist. I mean, what else could we do?”
“You could deny it. You wouldn’t be the first couple to do that, even with proof.”
I laughed, already sensing that she’d had nothing to do with it, even though the news had come from her magazine. “Too late. Braden’s confirming it with them right now.”
“You guys are gonna break a ton of hearts with that.”
Once again, laughter spilled easily out of my mouth—because my relationship with Braden still didn’t quite seem real.
Would it ever?