28. There was nowhere to go
There was nowhere to go
Colby got out of the tinted SUV and thanked the driver, who had gotten out to open his door.
Cameras started flashing immediately. A bunch of photographers and fans called his name.
He wasn’t in a mood to stop, but he did because he promised himself a million years ago, daydreaming in his van, that he would never be that asshole who didn’t give people the time of day.
So he moved quickly to the group of fans and, ignoring the bouncers who shot him a look that said thanks for making us work harder, he signed a bunch of stuff that people shoved at him and posed for a few selfies.
Then he moved on to the paparazzi line. He posed one way, then the other, and ignored the “over here!” and “just one more!” and “Colby, smile this way!” and headed into the Chateau.
The lobby always made him feel important.
It was Spanish tiles and old dark wood with plastered walls, and it just screamed secrets and power.
He’d never even been able to get past the gatekeeper at the door of this place until Tidal’s album hit number one, and now she smiled and welcomed him in by name any day of the week, not just during events.
The place was packed, and everyone looked like someone, because even if Colby didn’t recognize them, he knew they were someone.
An actor, a musician, a director, a producer, an agent, a model.
Someone. And the part that always took his breath away was that these people looked at him like he was someone too.
It was nuts. He’d shot to this status blindingly, unbelievably fast. It was a Cinderella story just like what was happening to Hunter right now…
He pushed thoughts of Hunter out of his mind but couldn’t ignore the flutter in his gut at the thought that he would probably see him tonight.
Hannah had texted Colby earlier while she ate lunch with her manager.
Colby had been on the fence about attending this event.
Trevor was bailing on it, Kenner was going, but only to make his ex jealous because he was supposed to be here.
Colby had a new song bouncing around in his brain that he wanted to work on, but with Trevor staying home, he likely wouldn’t get the peace he needed to work on it.
And Kenner wanted a wingman for moral support.
When Hannah said she ran into Hunter, Colby immediately booked Bailey to do his grooming and his usual stylist, Anthony, to find something for him to wear last minute.
And now here he was, playing with the collar of his shirt absently, making sure the neck was open and hanging the way Anthony had placed it before he left the house.
Trevor, who had been drinking beers in the living room watching Colby get ready, had said he looked “fruity.” Colby had ignored him because he loved the clothes Anthony found for him.
Living with Trev was not a dream by any means, but because they combined their incomes, they were able to afford a house tucked into one of the winding streets across from the Laurel Canyon general store.
It was an ugly house, built in the late seventies with no charm and no land other than a short, stout patio with broken terracotta tiles that faced the neighbor’s fence.
But the rooms were a decent size, and it was the Canyon, Colby’s dream.
In a year or so, he’d have enough money to get his own place in the Canyon, and he would take more care picking that.
Trevor was at least fairly clean. The only thing he left lying around the common spaces was beer and tequila bottles, which Colby could easily pick up.
He never cooked; he slept most of the day when they weren’t doing band stuff, and yeah, he brought home random women, but he was also too drunk or unconscious most of the time to notice who Colby brought home. And who he didn’t.
Colby found Kenner on the terrace, holding a gin and tonic with a hefty wedge of lime. He walked over to him, and they hugged. He smelled good. He looked great. He kissed Colby’s cheek, softly, subtly, as he pulled away and Colby smiled. “Long time no see.”
“Yeah. Well.” Kenner laughed, and his smooth, dark skin took on a pink tint. They had seen each other last night. All night. Kenner had snuck out of the house at five o’clock this morning.
“Is he here?” Colby decided to get right to the point.
Kenner’s ex was an agent, high up in one of the biggest talent firms in town.
He was fifteen years older than Kenner and had been Kenner’s first and only acting agent when he moved to LA at eighteen.
He had love-bombed the shit out of Kenner, played endless mind games, seduced him, and then broke his heart and dusted his career by dumping him as an agent and a boyfriend. A total scumbag.
Kenner had confessed all this to Colby only a month ago.
They’d smoked a joint after a late night of jamming and trying to write new music together at Kenner’s funky, loft-style apartment in Studio City.
They’d started really talking for the first time since forming the band.
Sharing deeply personal details about their lives.
Colby told Kenner about Hunter, without giving his name away.
Kenner told Colby about the agent, completely willing to give his name away.
“Yup. He was by the bar inside last time I saw him,” Kenner said, and his voice had a nervous glint to it. “I don’t think he noticed me.”
“Probably scanning the crowd for his next victim,” Colby replied, and then he reached up and tugged on the lapels of Kenner’s chocolate brown velvet jacket. “You look fucking lickable.”
“Good. I hope he regrets everything when he sees me.” Kenner winked, and Colby laughed. “For now, you should find your girlfriend. She has news.”
“We’re dialing that back, remember?” Colby and Hannah had been given the go-ahead by the label’s PR to consciously uncouple now that the tour was over.
But since they hadn’t ever made an official statement that they were together, they couldn’t make an official one that they weren’t, which meant a lot of media and fans hadn’t picked up on the “break-up” yet.
“Go find the fake ex. She’s inside, I think,” Kenner urged, and his dark brown eyes swept over Colby. “You look fucking lickable too, and I know why.”
“What? I just like to look good every now and then,” Colby shrugged.
“Find Hannah.”
Colby scanned the terrace for her. There was a DJ in the corner playing wordless beats, and a table near him with the most ridiculous-looking food—all flowers made from fruits and vegetables.
And of course, a champagne fountain and chocolates shaped like the Louis Vuitton logo.
He scanned past that and finally saw what he thought was the top of Hannah’s pretty little head.
She was by the arched French doors on the other side of the room.
Colby hesitated before moving. “I said I would help you make your agent feel like shit and I meant it.”
“Yeah, but you’ve got your own drama to tend to,” Kenner flashed a smile, then he moved off into the crowd, stopping a few feet away to greet a model he was friendly with.
Colby forced himself to walk over to Hannah, even though it felt like he was walking to his own funeral.
Why? Did she have more gossip about Hunter?
Was he here with Mikayla? Had that become a real thing?
The universe had been shipping them since their movie came out, and they were photographed together a lot—and not just for work things either.
Not that Colby was keeping track… on purpose.
Watching Hunter kiss Mikayla that night had been like rubbing his heart up against a cheese grater. But he’d whispered encouragement for Hunter to do it. Because people had noticed him with Hunter and he’d panicked. For his career and for Hunter’s.
He paused at the champagne fountain and took a glass.
He actually hated champagne, but he felt like, for some reason, he needed something.
He could get a clearer view of Hannah now.
She was in a shimmering slip dress in a color barely darker than the champagne in his glass.
Her skin was smooth and pale, and her dark hair dramatic as it tumbled in wild, loose waves down her back.
She was kind of leaning on the open door, bent a little, like she was talking to someone much shorter than her that Colby couldn’t see.
He took two long swallows, emptying the tiny champagne glass, and got caught by a guy from Revolution Records who wanted to tell him how much he loved Tidal, and his song with Hannah and blah, blah, blah.
When the suit finally left Colby alone, he refilled his champagne and made his way to Hannah.
Well, to where she had been. She wasn’t there anymore, but a few minutes later he caught the glimmer of her dress out of the corner of his eye and walked over to where she was sitting on a vintage sofa by the large fireplace.
She was being photographed by a pro who was clearly documenting the night for either the hotel or the sponsor. As soon as she saw him approaching, her smile changed into something bigger, brighter, happier. She lifted her arms in his direction. “Sunshine! Finally!”
He smiled, grabbed one of her hands in his, and let himself be pulled down beside her. He was well aware that the camera was still snapping as she pressed her lips to his sideburn and giggled. “You brought me champagne.”
“No, but sure.” He let her take it from him, and he looked at the photographer, giving the guy a serene this isn’t anything special smile. He was good at those now.