5. Zak
Zak wouldn’t have recognized Izzy on the rooftop if Lydia hadn’t been there to point her out.
Absent all the colorful stylings Zak had come to expect from her, the lead singer was sitting at the bar between Edge and Alex. Her once unreal-red hair was now dyed a natural medium brown and she wore an unembellished black dress in place of her usual loud clothing. Now that Zak was close enough to hear their conversation, Izzy’s cheerful smile seemed to be the only outward feature still unmistakably her own.
“What are you doing here?” Zak asked as she approached. “I thought when I didn’t hear back from you that you were going to be too busy.”
“Too busy for my favorite rivals? Never.” Izzy spun on the barstool and jumped up to dole out her signature hello-hug. Distinct from her goodbye-hug in its enthusiasm, and distinct from her just-because hug in its duration.
“Don’t think we can be rivals anymore, considering you already won,” Zak said, her voice strained as Izzy cut off her airflow by locking her diaphragm in place. She was still trying to figure out the mechanics of hugging—or rather, being hugged—by someone with the stature of a mouse and the grip strength of an anaconda.
“Not like it was fair.” A sympathetic frown marred Izzy’s otherwise bright expression. “What happened out there was terrible. I still can’t believe they did that to you,” she said to Alex, specifically.
“It’s not all bad being forcibly outed,” said Alex. “I’ve been getting death threats and ass in equal amounts lately. Easier when no one has to ask or assume and everyone just knows.”
“God, you’re a top?” Dallas squeezed his eyes shut. “I didn’t need to know that.”
“Is there a less gay way to be gay, Dallas?”
“Yes.” Dallas thought for a moment. “No. I guess not. I don’t know. How do I answer this without sounding like I’m picturing the… options?”
“You don’t. Just wanted to give you shit.” Alex smirked. “But seriously, Izzy. It’s all good here. Life’s been better than, well, ever. No hard feelings.”
“It all worked out.” Zak waved a hand.
“It could have worked out with fifty-K in my pocket right now too, but who’s keeping score?” Dallas adjusted his backwards baseball cap.
Only for Lydia to smack it off his head.
Zak promptly decided she didn’t want to get involved in whatever the hell was going on there.
“The show was amazing by the way. I didn’t get to be here for the whole thing, but if the first hour was as good as the second two, then it was one of the best concerts I’ve ever been to. And. Well. You know I have to ask…” A giggle escaped behind Izzy’s teeth as she shared a private smile with Zak and Chase. “Are you two official yet, or what?”
“Uh…” Words, words. Where were the words? Throwing the plan away was fine and dandy until she needed a plan to know how to answer questions from well-intentioned but prying individuals like Izzy.
“Great question.” Chase faced Zak. She assumed he was leaving the answer up to her so he didn’t say something to freak her out all over again. What he didn’t know was, she was going to freak out no matter what.
Especially when, as she looked around, everyone elsewas also waiting for her to answer. Lydia directed that peppy-yet-scary grin at her. Edge’s smile seemed more of the, See? I told you it would all work out,variety, while Alex’s said, Ha-ha. I know why you disappeared for an hour. And Dallas had the appearance of someone feeling karmically repaid for her cock-blocking.
“Are you two official yet?” was a perfectly normal, casual question. But to Zak’s ears, it sounded as binding as, “Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“No,” she finally landed on. The two-letter word stretched like someone had tortured it out of her. “Or—I mean, there’s nothing to makeofficial. It’s all very unofficial.”
Chase squinted like he was trying to make sense of what she had just said. In all fairness, she also wasn’t sure what she meant. A couple hours ago she wasn’t thinking about what other people would make of that unofficial officialness. She wasn’t thinking about anything at all, other than how right it felt to be with him.
Over the past six months, he had seen her at both extremes. At her rock bottom, and as a rising success. And somehow his presence through it all made every struggle more worth it and every celebration sweeter.
That kind of feeling didn’t need a relationship status to describe. She didn”t think one existed.
“O-kay.” Izzy smacked her lips, but then a more serious expression crossed her face. “Anyway, do you mind if we go somewhere quieter? There’s something I wanted to talk to you all about before I leave. Oh, and Lydia, you’re welcome to join if you want. As an honorary member of the band.”
Lydia picked up the champagne she’d ordered from the bar. “An invitation to a top-secret serious conversation I have no personal stake in? Yes, please. Count me in.”
“Now I’m thinking I should have brought an NDA for you to sign.” Izzy winked.
“You’re right. That would have made it so much cooler.”
The rooftop was nowhere near as busy as the lower levels, where the DJ’s never-ending track was at its loudest and food was still being served for another hour. With the concert and fireworks show now concluded, it was even somewhat peaceful up here once Zak blocked out the noise from below. Conversations were more intimate. The lighting was calmer.
The patio furniture had been brought back out, and Izzy led them to a U-shaped sectional in the far corner.
“See, I have a proposition for you,” Izzy said as they all took their seats around a lit fire table.
“It doesn’t seem like a good one,” Zak observed.
“No, it is, but it’s also a lot to ask of you.” Izzy rubbed her palms on the sides of her dress. “I didn’t want to say anything until I got confirmation from Tribute Records because I’ve been fighting them on this for over a month, but last week I finally got in with the consumer research team, the Director of AR, and senior management. Turns out I’m better at bothering them than they are at ignoring me. So, all that said, I wanted to ask you in person. Would you all be interested in going on tour with us?”
Zak blinked rapidly. “I’m sorry. What?”
“What Zak meant to say is yes,” Alex said.
“Are you serious?” That was Edge.
Dallas propped his elbows on his knees. “Damn. You are way cooler than I thought, chatterbox.”
Izzy laughed. “What about you, Chase? You’re awfully quiet.”
“I’m processing.”
Lydia drummed on his arm. “Process faster so I can freak out with you over the fact that my brother is going on tour!”
Chase swatted away her tapping, smiling as he said, “Yeah, I’m working on it. This is awesome. I just don’t know how any of this stuff works. I’ve only been to two concerts before, and neither one of them left me with a deep understanding of touring logistics.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Lydia said confidently. “And then you will make sure I have VIP passes to every show. I already have five different ideas for how I can injure myself with the copy machine thoroughly enough to collect workers’ comp for at least eight weeks.”
Zak was trying to figure it out now, and her head was spinning at the effort of simply imagining how all of this was going to happen.
The Amped tour began in April, and twenty stops had already been announced.
If they were going to hit the road with Izzy’s band, they would have to produce at least an EP and coordinate an album release in less than three months. An even crazier ask than the five months they had given Izzy’s band. On top of the music, there was marketing, merchandise, staging, and probably plenty of other components Zak couldn’t begin to wrap her brain around.
Oh, and she was already getting ahead of herself because none of this was in writing yet. Without a contract, this was all just an exhilarating hypothetical.
“This is amazing, Izzy. Seriously. Obviously we’re interested,” Zak said. “I don’t know how you managed to convince them this late in the game. I would’ve thought they’d have the opening band picked out already.”
“Well, first of all, we wouldn’t have been cutting it this close if people would answer my freaking emails. Or my phone calls.” Izzy’s beaming smile slipped, but returned just as quickly. “And secondly, I didn’t go through all the trouble of calling and emailing—and sitting in waiting rooms—just for y’all to open. Saint of Spades would be co-headlining with Abstraction. We would skip the opener, and each play a one-and-a-half-hour set.”
So, scratch that first, already stressful idea. They wouldn’t need an EP. They needed a full-length album.
A cacophony of conversations broke out as excitement buzzed all around the table.
Through the noise, she heard Edge turn to Izzy, directly to his right, and say what Zak was thinking herself. “You were willing to go through all that trouble for people you hardly know? And then give up your own stage time, too?”
“Oh, come on.” Izzy nudged his shoulder with her own. “I thought we were past ‘hardly know.’ I can’t call ya my friend? My bassist-in-crime? Wait, no. That’s super cheesy. Please forget I said that.”
“But it would be rude of me to forget. As your friend.”
In the ten years they’d known each other, Zak had neverseen her friend smile the way he did then. Of course, he tried to hide it immediately. As if looking at the inside of his shirt collar was in any way discreet.
Izzy redirected her attention to the group. “Even if I didn’t like you guys—which I really, really do—you’re all talented, and you deserve it. It’s as simple as that. I want everyone who buys a ticket to have the best time ever. And I think the best way to do that is to give them the band they voted for.”
“Tons of those votes were for your band, too, Izzy,” Zak said.
Past the initial disappointment, it hadn’t been difficult for her to support Izzy’s win. She wouldn’t have felt right taking home a victory from a judge with such a personal connection to her. Even if Scott Lee was as much a stranger as he was her father.
“Then they’re getting the best of both worlds.” Izzy held her palms to the fire. “You can’t blame me for feeling like I’ve cheated you all a little when it comes to this. It’s like winning the Electoral College but not the popular vote. Which reminds me. I should probably warn you about one other thing. It turns out Scott actually works for Tribute, which is wild. I mean, the Scott Lee, working a nine-to-five? He could retire and spend the rest of his days jetting off around the world. Buying that weird art that only rich people like. Going to movie premieres. Banging women twenty years younger than him on a yacht.”
“Izzy,” Zak started, but Izzy was still going.
“And not only does he work at Tribute. He’s kinda-sorta our tour manager?” Izzy grimaced as she took in whatever expression was on Zak’s face. “I know I should have said something sooner, but there’s so much going on that I almost forgot about that teensy little detail. We’ve had a few meetings with him, but even so, it’s meetings on top of meetings and so many people to remember. I know he kind of screwed you all, but he seems like a nice guy so far and he wasn’t super negative when I brought up potentially bringing Saint of Spades on and—”
“Izzy.” Not only did Izzy stop talking, but everyone else froze too as Zak finally blurted out, “Scott is my father.”
Izzy’s mouth was open, but the “oh” was silent as she looked around to gauge how to react.
“I didn’t know he was going to be guest judging,” Zak explained. “Actually, the show was the first time I’ve seen him since I was seven.”
“Holy crap.” Izzy pressed her hands to her temples. “Okay. So, um, scratch the part where I joked about him screwing twenty-year-olds. And then, maybe, also scratch the part where I called him a nice guy. Considering he ditched his daughter and showed up sixteen years later to vote her out of a band competition. What a spineless, dickless shrew. Why would he do that?”
“Something about protecting me from a bad deal,” Zak said. “But I don’t know what to believe. If he meant it, or if it’s not about the contract at all. He put a lot of effort into erasing his past.”
“Well, I can’t pretend to know your dad’s motivations, but the contract is demanding. For whatever that’s worth,” Izzy said. “I can’t say I know a good deal from a bad one. I do know none of them are perfect, and I went in blind. Thinking I’d be happy with however far I could make it. This has been a dream, don’t get me wrong. I’m so lucky to be where I am. But you all have the opportunity to fight for what you want, and that’s valuable. Even if Scott was only trying to do himself a favor, I think he might have done you one, too.”
What happened during the Amped finale was the last grievance Zak had when it came to her father. He had been gone for most of her life, back for a blink, and now she was supposed to work with him when she’d barely recovered from that blip two months ago?
She would get over it to get ahead. She always did. This was the life she had always dreamed of, and she’d endure anything it took to actualize it. The stinging pains of lost wishes and missed connections were worth every second she spent making music. And the chance Izzy had bartered for was too life-changing to pass up. Even if it came with a personal haunting.
“I’m actually glad he kept his celebrity identity away from me.” Zak tried not to dwell on Scott’s reasons because she didn’t know his true reasoning for anything, and probably never would. “I never wanted his fame to lay the foundation for my career. And I’d prefer it if this stayed between us, too. I just thought you should know. Since we’re all going to be working together.”
“Absolutely. My lips are sealed. For this, at least. I can’t make promises about anything else. Unless, of course, you ask me to. I take promises very seriously. And secrets. But only if I know they’re secrets. That part is important.” Izzy made a cross over her chest. “Does that mean we’re still on? You still want to go forward with this?”
Zak would’ve said yes, but shouts of affirmation were already circling the table. Her hand shook as it found Chase’s over the armrest.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,” Zak’s voice sliced through the excitement. “This means we’re going to have to get an entire fucking album ready, though. Like, yesterday.”
“Yeah, about that,” Izzy said. “Since I wanted to be the bearer of good news, I also have to be the bearer of bad news. Do you think you could get on a plane this Friday to talk business? We’re looking at an early March release right now. Sorry it doesn’t leave a whole lot of studio time.”
“Two months. For a whole album.” Zak thought she might hyperventilate, but then realized she was holding her breath. Passing out now seemed more likely. “This is insane.”
“Oh really? Insane?” Chase tugged on her hand. A lopsided grin sprawled across his face. “Kind of like giving someone two months to learn how to sing and memorize an entire backlist before sticking them on reality TV?”
So, maybe he had a point. But that didn’t make this any less hectic.
“Touché.” She unwittingly returned his smile before telling Izzy, “I guess we’ll see you in New York.”