Chapter 18
After that, the time flew. We had a successful fourth leg of that tour in May and made a final video for our third single—and fans were loving the album.
Although it had gotten mixed reviews, the people buying our music voted with their dollars.
Zack was healthier than I’d seen him in years: color in his cheeks, a twinkle in his eyes, and he’d gained some weight back.
His well-being made the band healthy. Even Cy seemed far more relaxed than he’d been in a while.
We also played a couple of summer festivals like the year before, but our slots were later in the day—and, thanks to the second festival, I got to spend some time with Roxy.
This one was in Florida, and it was hot and humid—but the festival was close enough to the beach that we could smell the ocean, and I planned to spend some time there before we flew back home.
But late that night, Roxy and I hung out while the guys made plans to network with some of the bands. Mick had said, “It’s gonna have a party atmosphere, son. I don’t think you should be around alcohol right now.”
Zack shook his head. “I gotta get used to it, man. It’s not like I can avoid it forever. Besides, Bray and Cy got my back. They’ll keep me on the straight and narrow.”
Braden looked worried but nodded—and Cy, as usual, was hard to read…but both reassured Mick that they’d get Zack out of there if he was struggling.
I tried to put that all out of my mind as Roxy and I hung in her hotel room. Both of us were drinking rum and Coke that was a little too heavy on the rum. But I didn’t mind. Braden already knew I’d be crashing with Roxy. She had a double bed and didn’t mind sharing—and we planned to get tipsy.
As usual, we talked about music first—not just about Riot, but about lots of other bands we loved. In that regard, Roxy was so similar to Zack in that we felt passionate about music in a way that most people didn’t.
But we did have one slight disagreement. “What do you think of Jokers Wilder’s new album?” I asked. It had just come out in June and I’d been listening to it, loving every track, probably because it sounded a lot like their earlier music.
“I’ve only heard the first single a few times. I’m not a fan.”
“What? Why not?” I took a huge gulp of my drink.
“I don’t like their new guitarist.”
“Why? He’s amazing—and I love that this album sounds like their first one.”
“I’m still pissed that they kicked out Quentin.”
“I don’t think they kicked him out. Didn’t he quit?”
Roxy laughed. “Yeah…but still. Elijah’s a fucking egotistical prick.
Quentin just got sick of it.” I didn’t know the guys in that band, so I had to take Roxy’s word for it.
She got up and walked to the table where she unscrewed the lid off the rum.
“Zack will probably end up that way if he doesn’t watch it. ”
“I don’t know about that.”
“How’s he doing, by the way?”
“What do you mean?” I took a sip of my drink, realizing my head was starting to feel a little light and my teeth were beginning to feel numb…meaning I probably should have switched to water, but I was enjoying myself with my friend.
“After rehab—how’s he holding up?”
“Wait, what? You knew about that?”
“Of course, I did. Well…at least there were rumors. I couldn’t confirm it so I didn’t print anything.”
“Oh, shit,” I said. “And now that I’ve opened my big fucking mouth, you can.”
Roxy laughed. “Oh, my God, no. What you say is off the record unless I’m officially interviewing you.”
My heart warmed at the thought. I’d forgotten but suspected it had been when we’d declared ourselves to be besties.
We hadn’t actually used that term, but I knew she valued our friendship as much as I did.
“So yeah. He’s doing lots better now. Actually…
I’m worried about him tonight. The guys are gonna be around alcohol. ”
“Ooh…that seems too soon.”
“That’s what I said—but the guys promised to support him. I hope that means they’ll get him the hell out of there when he realizes he can’t handle it.”
“That bad, huh?” Roxy pulled off her sandals, wiggling her toes. The hot pink nail polish made her feet look dainty and feminine, reminding me that that was the reason why I painted my toenails. My feet looked ugly otherwise.
“Yeah.” I told her about the night Zack had overdosed and almost died.
“What aren’t you telling me, D?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” I knew exactly what she meant but I was hoping to deflect her curiosity.
Unfortunately, as a reporter, she had a nose for sniffing out that kind of thing. “Come on. We’ve been friends long enough that I can tell when you’re holding out on me. What’s going on?”
I sighed. She was right—and, as my friend, I felt like I could trust her with anything, especially now that I knew she hadn’t pried me for information to publish. Leaking Zack’s near fatal overdose and stint in rehab could have helped her own star rise…so I knew she was a true friend.
But that didn’t mean it would be easy to talk about.
I got up and poured some rum in my glass, chugging it straight before mixing more with Coke.
“Must be pretty bad,” Roxy joked.
Sitting back on the sofa next to her, I said, “I don’t know. I’ll let you be the judge of it. Swear you won’t say shit.” I took another swig of my drink, hoping to calm my nerves and help myself let go of the information I guarded like Fort Knox.
“What I’d just say?”
Despite my nerves, I grinned. “Just because I’m off the record doesn’t mean you couldn’t tell anyone.”
“Okay, okay—I swear!”
“When we found Zack…he looked dead. He was pale and unresponsive—and, afraid we were going to lose him, I realized just how much I still love him.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Yeah. But, I mean, logically, I know he doesn’t deserve it—and I know we’d be a train wreck all over again. It’s not worth it, and I can’t trust him with my heart. But that doesn’t change the fact that my heart still belongs to him.”
“Fuck. Does Braden know?”
“No. I can’t tell him. He…he deserves my love. I want to love Braden with all my heart, and I want to cherish him. He deserves nothing less—and it’s not his fault that my stupid heart doesn’t know how to let go of Zack.”
Roxy swirled her cup, making the liquid inside move around. “So what are you gonna do?”
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
Raising her eyebrows, she shook her head. “I’m the last person you should ask. I pick real losers.”
“I hear that.” I took another sip of my drink, feeling the way my muscles were responding to the additional rum I’d downed a bit ago.
“I’m just going to keep giving him my love.
I mean…I love his sisters and I like his parents okay.
My mom adores him, and he’s so good to me in every way imaginable.
I’d be an idiot to not see how good he is for me.
So…my head’s on board. I just need to get my heart to stop being an asshole. ”
“Your heart’s not an asshole, D. Zack was your first love…and sometimes it’s hard to let that go.”
“You think that’s it?”
“I know it. My first love was a guy named Matt. I lost my virginity to him my senior year—but he was an abusive asshole. Not so much physically, although he got a little rough sometimes, but he was mentally abusive. And I know if I ran into him today, I’d have a hard time not falling victim to his charms.”
I started laughing. “You are so full of shit.” I knew her well enough now to know that she wouldn’t fall for that behavior, even if the guy was her first love.
At that, she started laughing so hard, she cried, and, in our slightly inebriated state, we both had a difficult time stopping the giggles. “Yeah, I am. I just wanted to make you feel better.”
“I guess it just helps knowing I can eventually get over Zack.”
I only wondered how long it would take.
We were by no means millionaires (or even “thousand-aires” as Braden liked to joke), but we were able to relax and breathe a little over the rest of the year. Now that we were making money, we knew what we were doing was viable.
And the label dangled another carrot: if the first single off our next album performed well, they suggested we try touring as headliners.
As a band, we discussed it. But I had to give Zack credit.
As much as the man had stars in his eyes, he was realistic.
When Braden and I pushed to headline, Zack said, “Guys, I can’t wait for that day—but we’re not ready.
Let’s keep supporting the biggest acts out there right now so we can keep growing our audience. I promise it’ll pay off.”
And we knew not to argue. After all, Zack’s instincts—especially when not dampened by alcohol—had usually been spot on. Here we were…actual rock stars. Every time I thought about it, I could hardly believe it. In September, we had another band meeting to discuss what we would do next.
After we all settled in Zack’s grandfather’s living room, he started speaking, but I couldn’t help noticing the changes.
Although Cy still lived there, I doubted any of the changes were due to his influence.
But I could tell that Zack wanted to respect his grandparents—because the shelves by the east window still held all of their old books.
But there was new furniture and a big area rug in a muted white and light gray pattern that livened up the room…
made it feel less like an old person’s home.
I suspected his grandparents hadn’t changed anything in the house for decades—and I based that on my own grandparents’ house: the couch was always in the same place in the living room, the recliner and two chairs, the television and the end tables.
Even the paintings and photos on the wall stayed in the same spot.
The same could be said of the kitchen, dining room, and bedrooms. The only things that had changed had been due to technology—like replacing their dinosaur computer in the tiny bedroom that served as an office with a newer, sleeker version.