30. Luca
THIRTY
Luca
“You’re really gonna sell this place?” Dallas asked Monday afternoon as I finished packing my bags to head back to Nashville with him and Emilia. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
“It’s time,” I answered.
“What did McKenzie say when you told her you’re gonna move?” he asked, petting Emilia where she sat beside him on the foot of the bed.
I stuffed another T-shirt in my suitcase. “I didn’t tell her yet.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t want her to feel pressured. Our relationship is on shaky ground right now, and I don’t want her to think she’s the only reason I’m moving.”
“She’s not?”
I shook my head. “No. I’d be lying if I said she wasn’t a big part of it, but there's a lot more to it. I need to be near my people—my family.”
Dallas splayed his hand over his chest in mock surprise. “Do my ears deceive me, or did you just admit that you need us?”
I tossed a wadded up sock at him.
“I hope that was clean,” he said when it bounced off his head.
“It wasn’t.”
He laughed and threw it back at me. “Seriously, man, I think this is a big step.”
“It feels like one,” I admitted. “Even though the gang has started going their separate ways, Nashville is still home base for everyone. I’m tired of living on an island. I want to be nearby.”
“I’m glad.” He gave me a faint smile. “That way I can be just a few minutes away the next time I need to come beat down your door.”
“Well, I appreciate it,” I said, closing the large suitcase and zipping it. “But you won’t need to do that again.”
He arched a brow at me.
“I’m gonna make sure you and Katie have a key. Derek and Jo too,” I explained. “I’ve kept myself locked away for years and look where it got me. I think it’s time I keep some doors open for a change.”
He put a hand on my arm and gave it a squeeze. “I’m proud of you, brother.”
“Is it weird if I say that I’m proud of myself too?” I asked with a laugh.
“Nah,” he replied with a grin. “I think that’s called growth .”
I chuckled. “What a concept.”
“So, do you think Darcey Dubois, the realtor extraordinaire, will be able to convince the owner of the hobbit house to sell?” he asked.
My chest constricted when he referred to the place by the nickname McKenzie had given it.
“I hope so. I pretty much told her I could pay whatever they wanted in cash,” I said. “But if not, that’s okay. I’ll find something else. At any rate, I have the rental till the end of next month. That gives me some time to figure it out.”
“I know that place is special to you.”
I shrugged. “It is, but it’s special because of the memories. I’ll take those with me wherever I go. Speaking of going, are you ready to get out of here? We need to get on the road so I can meet Darcey to pick up that extra key.”
“You bet,” he said, rising to his feet, tucking Emilia under his arm. “You got everything?”
“Everything I care about,” I said. “The movers can get the rest when the time comes.”
“You don’t think you’ll come back?” he asked as we padded into the living room where my other two bags and guitar were waiting to be loaded into the car.
“I know I won’t. I’m dropping my key off with a realtor Darcey knows in the area on the way out of town so they can get it on the market.”
I took a breath and glanced around.
“Do you want me to give you a minute?” he asked.
“No,” I answered. “I think me and this place have done all we can for each other. All that’s left to do is go.”
“Then let’s do it,” he said, gripping the handle of one of my suitcases and rolling it toward the door.
I dug my keys out of my jacket pocket and followed behind, grabbing the rest of my stuff. Once I’d moved everything to the front stoop, I pulled the door closed and turned my key in the lock one last time. It was the place that held me when I thought I had nowhere else to go. But I didn’t need it anymore.
Dallas clapped his hand over my shoulder. “Ready to go home?”
Home.
My heart swelled as I shut the door. It took nearly half my life, but I finally had somewhere I belonged.
It didn’t matter if it was the hobbit house or if I ended up having to find someplace else. While I loved that little cottage in Leipers Fork, it wasn’t the building that made it home. It was the people—my people. And I’d carry them with me for the rest of my life, no matter where I ended up.
Grace arrived at the hobbit house late Tuesday afternoon with her binder clutched in her hands. The second I opened the door, she flung her arms around me, squeezing me like she thought she might never get the chance to hug me again.
“It’s good to see you,” she said when she finally pulled away.
“I’m sorry I scared you like that.” I stepped aside, allowing her to enter.
“What matters is that you’re here now.”
I led her to the living room where my guitar was still propped against the sofa. Randy McNutt was perched on the coffee table beside my open notebook, where he’d kept me company while I’d put my feelings to music earlier that day.
“So, how are you doing?” Grace took a seat in the armchair across from where I sat on the couch.
“It’s a day to day thing,” I answered. “Minute to minute, really. I’ve avoided looking at social media, the internet, anything that could send me backward right now.”
“That’s good,” she said. “You’ve got to protect your peace somehow. I’ve been keeping track of what’s coming out, and I’ll only tell you what you need to know.”
“How bad has it been?” I asked, crossing one leg over the other.
She shrugged. “Mostly people sharing the same stories over and over again. Like the one about that Tate McCreedy asshat. There’s not been a lot of new stuff coming out. You kept a low profile for a while. Nobody was able to photograph you for months, so most of what’s out there is old news. That’s gonna be in your favor with the press when you decide to move forward. If you decide to move forward.”
“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” I said.
“I figured that’s why I’m here.” She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. “How are you feeling about everything? Do you know what you want to do?”
I gave a wry chuckle. “It depends on the time of day. Part of me wants to shelve the record altogether and disappear from the limelight for good.”
“I don’t blame you one bit, and I don’t think there’s a wrong choice here. There’s certainly not an easy one.”
“No, there isn’t,” I said. “But I think what I want to do and what I need to do are two different things.”
“How so?” she asked.
“My gut instinct is to run.” I leaned back, propping my arm across the back of the cushion. “To kill the album, the tour, my public image. To let people think what they want, while I fade away into the news cycle until people eventually forget my name. But I’m tired of running, Grace. That’s all I’ve ever done.”
“Does that mean you’re considering putting the record out?”
“Yeah. I guess I am.” I ran my hand along the back of my neck. “I’m scared out of my mind, and I might live to regret it. But I know I’ll regret it if I don’t take this chance on myself. I’ll always wonder what I could have done if I’d been brave enough to try.”
She smiled. “Well, you know I’ll be by your side every step of the way. What can I do to help?”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. “I want to know what you think I should do, what our next move should be.”
“What if we find a way to get your side of things out there? Give people the chance to get to know you.”
“How?”
“An in-depth interview,” she replied.
“Hmm,” I said, my finger rubbing along my jaw. “Where? Something like Rolling Stone ?”
She shook her head. “I’m thinking more like television.”
“Maybe Jo would be willing to do it?” I suggested. She was our television connection, not to mention, her father was a legend in journalism.
“I don’t know.” She twisted her lips to the corner of her mouth. “I think it needs to be someone you don’t know. Someone who can’t be accused of tossing you softball questions.”
I sucked in a shaky breath. “Well, I guess if I’m already dipping my toe outside my comfort zone, I might as well dive into the deep end.”
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. It’s just an idea.”
“No, I think you’re right,” I said, picking at a thread on my jeans. “There’s a lot of me I’ve kept hidden over the years, and if I want people to trust me, I need to give them a reason to.”
“You don’t owe anyone anything.”
“I do,” I said. “I owe it to myself. If people hear what I have to say and they still don’t like me, fine. But I have to like me.”
“Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll put out some feelers for an interview. Maybe Jo will have some ideas.”
Grace’s phone chimed from her purse, and she reached for it. Her eyes scanned across the screen before she grinned and placed it back inside her bag.
“We can talk more about this later,” she said, rising to her feet. “But right now we have to go.”
I furrowed my brow. “What? I thought we were having a meeting.”
“We are. Were. Meeting’s adjourned. We gotta leave.”
“And where exactly are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t know if I’m up for surprises at the moment, Grace.”
“This is a surprise you’re gonna love.” She stepped closer and extended her hand to help me up. “I just need you to trust me.”
I narrowed my eyes at her, and she shoved her hand closer. “Who was it that texted you?”
“Trust me,” she insisted. “And you’ll find out soon enough.”
Finally, I took her hand but not before giving her a suspicious side-eye.
“All right. Let’s go.”
“I still can’t believe you guys are here.” I’d been at Jax and Liv’s dining table for the last hour, surrounded by all of my friends for the first time in over a year. Ella, Cash, Antoni, and his husband Nate had all come into town so we could get the whole gang back together. Derek, Jo, Katie, and Dallas were there too, along with all the kids, who had since retreated to the playroom with Jax and Liv’s sitter to give the adults some time together.
It was almost perfect. The only thing I was missing was having McKenzie by my side.
“I told you this was a surprise you’d love,” Grace said, poking me in the arm from where she sat beside me.
I held up my hands like two white flags. “As usual, you were right.”
“She gets that from me, you know,” Ella quipped. “I have a one hundred percent success rate.”
Cash tapped a finger to his chin. “Is that so?”
Antoni snorted, pinning Ella with a playful stare. “Math’s never been your strong suit, has it?”
“Who needs math when you have an iPhone calculator and a dazzling personality like mine?” Ella teased before turning her attention to me. “Okay, listen, I’ve been dying to talk to you about your new music. ‘Death Row’ is masterful. I mean…wow. I just…I had no idea you could write like that.”
My cheeks burned. “Honestly? Neither did I.”
“There’s a reason for all the early Grammy buzz,” Derek said. “It’s an amazing record, Luca. You should be proud.”
“God knows we are,” Dallas added with a smile.
“How are you feeling about…things?” Cash asked, tiptoeing around the enormous media-frenzied elephant in the room. “You’re still planning to release it, aren’t you?”
“You have to,” Jo insisted. “It’s incredible.”
I released a slow exhale. “Yeah, I am. I’m terrified, but this is something I have to do, even if just to prove to myself that I can.”
“Hell yes, you can.” Antoni pointed a slender finger at me. “You’re Luca fucking Sterling. You can do any damn thing you want.”
I chuckled. “I don’t know about that.”
“Well, we do,” Katie said. “We all believe in you.”
Jax met my eyes across the table. “Damn right, we do.”
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Cash asked.
Grace spoke up. “Actually, there is. We were talking earlier about what we can do to shift the narrative surrounding Luca right now, and I was thinking an exclusive televised interview might be a good idea. It would give him the opportunity to address some of these stories floating around and let people get to know the real him.”
“Jo could do it,” Derek suggested, but she shook her head.
“As much as I’d love to,” Jo said, “I think I’m too close.”
“Exactly,” Grace agreed. “We need someone who’s more of a neutral party. But I was thinking you might have some connections for someone who could do it.”
Jo twirled a piece of her auburn hair around her finger. “Definitely. How soon are you thinking?”
“As soon as possible,” I answered. “This week. I don’t want to let this go on too long without addressing it.”
“I have some people in mind,” Jo replied. “I’ll make some calls first thing tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to discourage you from doing it if it’s important to you,” Liv said, taking a sip of her wine. “But what do you hope to gain from doing this interview? I worry about what happens if it isn’t received the way you’re hoping.”
I understood Liv’s hesitancy. Not long after Jax and Liv made their relationship public, she’d been the target of a lot of online hate.
“People are fickle,” she continued. “When they love you, they’re all about you. But they can also turn on a dime. I just don’t want to see you get hurt if this goes south.”
“That’s a valid point,” I said. “And it’s something I’m still kind of working through. Ultimately, I think I have to distance myself from the noise—the bad and the good, because both get inside my head. The bad makes me feel like I’m a fuckup, and the good makes me feel like I can never fuck up. Either way, I’m left with a mile-long list of unreasonable expectations and a mountain of pressure.”
Ella tilted her head, her brows drawn together. “But the internet is a cesspool of half-baked hot takes and lies. How do you tune that shit out altogether?”
“I don’t know that I can,” I answered. “At least not completely, but I can start by giving Grace access to all my social media. She can be my eyes and ears and keep me informed of anything important.”
Grace gave an emphatic nod. “Nobody gets to you without going through me first.”
“Look at your cute little guard dog,” Ella joked, wrinkling her nose at her daughter.
“I think that’s smart,” Jo said. “People will always find something to hate on. One day last week, after I did my segment on the Today show, I got at least a hundred emails about how hideous my dress was. It happens all the time. Seriously, it’s bananas.”
“What?” Katie asked.
Jo nodded. “Yep. It happened when I was on the news in smaller markets too. People suck everywhere.”
Ella grimaced. “Well, that’s comforting.”
I shifted my gaze to Jo. “How do you cope with it?”
“It takes practice,” she answered. “I think you also have to consider where the feedback is coming from and how much information they have when they’re giving it. Do these people know you? Do they love you or care about you? Our loudest criticisms usually come from those trying to poison the soil where we’re planted just to keep us from growing.”
Nate snapped his fingers repeatedly like he was at a poetry reading in a coffeehouse.
“Hot damn, yes ma’am,” Antoni said, clapping his hands together.
“Jo hit the nail on the head.” Cash leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “I think an interview is the right move. There will still be those you can’t please, but they’re not your people.”
“Your story is important, Luca,” Dallas said. “It deserves to be told.”
“I think it does too,” Liv added. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Your well-being is what’s important.”
“I think I need to do this for my well-being.” I paused and blew out a breath. “The interviews I did over the last couple of weeks barely scratched the surface of what led me to this point in my life. I don’t think I owe people every piece of me. There are some things I’ll keep for myself, but I feel like I’m finally ready to…let people know me.”
“Anyone that gets to know you is lucky,” Katie said. “You’re a pretty awesome guy.”
Dallas shrugged. “I guess he’s all right.”
“If you’re comfortable putting yourself out there, I think it’s a solid choice,” Jax said. “People have a bad habit of just filling in the blanks for us. There’s power in owning your story.”
His words echoed through my mind. For a long time, I didn’t want people to know my history. The patchwork of my past was sewn with shame, guilt, and resentment. That’s why I kept it hidden away, stuffed under boxes of things I’d rather forget in the dingy attic of my mind. But when I finally brought it down the rickety stairs and carried it into the sun, I realized there was so much more to it than I remembered. There were golden threads of strength and endurance and unbreakable strings that connected me to those I loved.
There was disgrace and glory. Pain and beauty. Darkness and light. The fabric of my life was woven in dualities, each one a vital part of what made me.
I slid my fingers through my hair. “You’re right, Jax. I hadn’t thought about it like that before, but that’s exactly what I need to do: take ownership of my story. I can’t control how other people receive it. All I can do is be honest and tell it.”
Jo nodded. “Yep. Other people’s opinions of you are none of your business. What really counts is what you think.”
“And what we think, of course,” Ella said with a grin. “But we’re gonna support you no matter what.”
I returned her smile. “Thanks, Ella.”
The prospect of doing an in-depth interview still terrified me, but knowing I had my friends on my side made it easier, somehow. Regardless of what happened, I could turn off my phone and television screen. Once I put my story out there, it was up to others to interpret it how they wanted, to take it how they choose. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter what they thought—good or bad, whether they cared or were completely indifferent.
What mattered most were the faces right in front of me and the one who wasn’t there, but who was always at the forefront of my mind.