Chapter Forty-Five
Scarlett
“This is NOT a re-do”
We need longer holidays.
This is what I told Tav the second we stepped foot in the recording studio three weeks after our break.
“Y’all have been to most countries, what are you saying more holidays?” He bumped fists with Ryden. “Good in the head, kid?”
Ryden’s wicked eyes flicked to mine. “Great in the head, boss.”
***
Final Night in Banff
We were flying into JFK early tomorrow which meant that for once, everyone took it easy.
The guys went on the slopes while the girls and I spent the day at the spa – hot springs and a good massage… changes lives. That’s all I’m going to say.
Dean and Polly, well… thank God for sound proof walls. They really were making it official, if you know what I mean.
Zayla and Derek were getting along. That’s never going to happen, no matter how much he wants it to.
And me and Ryden, well.
We were back to staring at each other from across the room again. Like little fucking children. It was deplorable. What are we, five?
“Do you think it’s weird you ate me out?” I said, bubbling up in laughter.
He burst out laughing, “Well that’s one way to get me going, Christ.”
“No, but like, seriously,” I wiped my eyes, “like you and I have been friends since we were pre-teens, Ry. Slept in the same bed, lived together, basically saw the stratosphere together, and yet nothing.”
“Well, I did kiss your neck once,” he said, “never forgot that.”
Right. Before his first show. “That was a lifetime ago.”
“Yep,” he chuckled, “still remember it like it was yesterday.”
“Mm.”
“It changed things,” he admitted. “For me.”
I felt the rapid thump of my heart. “How could it not?”
“Did it change things for you?”
I exhaled, shutting my eyes. “How could it not.”
He let out a soft laugh. “More than a few words would be nice.”
I turned to face him, allowing my own inhibitions to slide. “I feel like I don’t know you like I know you anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean” – take a breath – “I mean is there a new us now? Do we carry on like nothing ever happened, that all of it was the heat of the moment and – and we’re just, friends, again? Like we always were?”
I could feel the piercing gaze of his eyes, the intensity brewing beneath those green irises. “We were never friends, Dove.”
My fingers curled around the sheets as I processed his statement.
Weren’t we? Has that not been our title all along?
Why do you always need a fucking title Scarlett?
Why can’t you just exist, accept, and feel – feel fucking everything, for once just –
Let.
Him.
IN.
“Never did say thank you for that, by the way.”
I cleared my throat. “For what?”
“Pretending to be my manager, my first gig at Cobalt Blues.”
I chuckled softly. “You did, idiot. Too much.”
“Guess yeah,” he paused. “I don’t like thinking too much about that night. It ended up being…”
“One big fuck show,” I finished for him. I could still hear the sirens now. The white cast of the TVs. Her name up on that screen. Her beautiful, perfect face crooked and mangled all because someone careless got behind the wheel –
And stole my precious Emory’s life.
“It’s noble, Dove. What you did,” he turned to face me. “Scarlett Emory-Blake.”
I legally changed my name after that, wanted her legacy to live on.
Bury Violet, breathe life into Emory.
It was about time.
She deserved this life just as much as me.
She deserved better.
“Her spirit’s around here somewhere,” I said, sweeping my eyes across the room before landing on Ryden. “Her spirit probably saw you eat me out.”
We laughed for what felt like ten minutes. My abs were on fire, but it was worth it.
We hadn’t laughed like that in so long.
To share that kind of innocence again (over something so not), it took control of my body. I scooted out of my sheets, and padded over to Ryden’s bed.
“Room for one more?” I asked, swallowing my nerves.
He lifted up the covers and shifted his body against the wall. “C’mere.”
My body fell flush against his, the warmth of him enveloping me in that refuge Sue was talking about.
This is safety. This is love.
Remind yourself before you let those beasts out.
His strong arms wrapped around me, cradling me against his chest like a fragment of glass. “You don’t need to hold me like I’m breakable,” I spoke softly, thinking back to that time in Hank’s studio. The way Ryden held me just the same. “I’m not the same girl I used to be.”
“You were never breakable, Dove, you always knew how to lift yourself up,” he whispered against my ear. “But I like to think I gave you the strength to stand.”
Gently, ever so gently, his lips pressed against the back of my neck. Small, tiny kisses, trailing up and down my pebbled skin, and then nothing.
I swallowed, the apparentness of his muscled torso against my back, the lower half of him pushed into my ass… no, no, no this is NOT a re-do.
And yet, I couldn’t stop myself from turning to face him, still a cradle of a bird in his arms, leaning down to press my lips lightly against his.
“Dove…” He breathed, lips tasting like apple whisky and cider. “You don’t want this.”
“I do,” I whispered, leaning into his kiss. “I hate that I do.”
“Don’t play with my heart,” he murmured, gripping onto my waist. “You break it, there’s nothing left.”
Well…
I kept my promise.
I broke something that night.
But it wasn’t his heart.
***
Present
Paisley Devora was… not what I expected.
At the club, I vaguely remember her dressed to the nines talking with Tav. I wasn’t there for the general band meeting between Ryden and Paisley.
But standing in front of me, she looked like –
“I don’t want to be here,” Paisley said, slumping into a rolling chair with a bag of chips in hand. “Like, literally at all.”
“Paisley, we talked about this. It’s just one song.” Her manager’s name was Kyle Binx. Tall, blonde, old. Looked like he bought a record label because he needed a tax write-off.
“Why can’t I work with Savannah?” She whined, burying herself in an oversized hood. Stains and holes were present. I looked down at my Rag and Bone jeans, Chloe boots and YSL turtleneck.
Yeah.
Not what I expected from an “up and coming” popstar.
I expected Yasmine.
How could I not?
The bane of my fucking existence was Yasmine Ryvetts for the duration of sixteen months.
Paisley Devora was pretty, naturally unpolished and completely indifferent to working with Ryden.
I didn’t know this side of Ryden… I didn’t even know what we were.
Was this, fuck I can’t even say it – exclusive?
We didn’t talk about it over the holidays.
We didn’t… talk much.
As if he read my thoughts, he nudged his knee to my mine. “What do you think?”
“I’m literally right here,” Paisley snapped.
“I literally know,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “I was asking my manager.”
My face burned at the thought of feeling threatened, feeling jealous. It took me back five years, the first time I ever felt a surge of shame for thinking of my best friend as something more. But the feeling was back, and now every emotion was raw and new and painful and bright and us –
This new feeling was us.
I cleared my throat. “What do I think about what, Mr. Spectre?”
His lips lifted to a smirk.
“Say my name, Dove. I want to hear you say it in a way I’ve never heard before…”
“Our partnership,” Ryden smoothed out the flashback ever so subtly, leaning back into his chair. “Do you think it’s beneficial for my career? To fix my image?”
Mallory jutted in. “I believe so!”
Tav crossed his arms. “We just need to wipe away the bad taste in people’s mouths, alright? The label’s gettin’ flack – ”
I winced. Flack.
Get outta here, go on Violet. Go on, no one’s gon’ miss you. Now get me the last can in the cooler, it’s warm. Right Sinead? Getting warm. If it’s the last thing you sorry selfish shit does for this house – get me that DAMN CA –
Ryden put his hand on my knee, squeezing once before removing it.
He knew me, then.
He loved me, then.
He knows you now, he loves you now.
“ – and we’ve just got to wait ‘till people see his numbers in the green, not red.” Tav pulled out a spreadsheet.
“Even though Jaw & Lion’s view counts are climbin’, Mallory showed me – Mallory pull out your file,” he waved two fingers at her, palming the envelope.
“The amount of negative publicity he’s gettin’ is out of control. ”
“They’re calling him an abuser,” Mallory added.
“What?” He snapped, launching out of his seat. “People are calling me an abuser?” His eyes found mine. “Did you know about this?”
I did.
I saw everything.
I kept his socials hidden over the past few weeks, perfecting that distraction.
I thought that if I could shelter his view from the media, that he’d come back stronger – retaliate better.
And selfishly, I just…
I wanted to exist without the rest of the world knowing Scarlett and Ryden for one second.
Just Eagle and Dove.
Just… that.
“It’s typical bullshit nonsense,” I supplied, but he didn’t bite. I knew he wouldn’t.
The tabloids hit too close to home.
Suddenly, our honeymoon phase seemed like a distant memory. The mornings spent in silk sheets at his townhouse, wrapped up in each other’s bodies – it was playland. Make-believe.
This was real.
And this was precisely the reason why I didn’t want to get caught up in the fantasy of feeling too much.
It was distracting, all-consuming.
We’d slip.
We were already slipping.
I always knew that if we were to break the boundary, we’d fall apart.
I couldn’t juggle a million emotions at once.
I was his fucking manager. I had a job to do. And I hated myself for letting the soft parts in.
Lions and wolves.
Only lions and wolves.
“How did you not know?” Paisley taunted. “Do you not have a phone?”
“I have a fucking phone I’ve just been –” He shot me a heated glance. “I’ve just been busy.”
“Well, it’s nothing new,” Paisley popped another chip in her mouth, picking a wedge from between her teeth. “We’ve all seen the stories about you. Why do you think I want to gtfo?”
Now it was my turn to snap.
I ripped away her precious bag of chips and crumpled it in my hand. “You will not speak, not a word, until you learn proper English, little girl.”
She scowled. “Please, you’re literally like, five seconds older than me.”
I turned to her bonehead manager and tossed him the bag of chips. “We’re done here. She’ll be of no use to my client.”
“Scarlett –” Tav tried.
“Tell that to Donny!!!” Paisley cackled, throwing her feet up on the soundboard. “He was in my bed last night and the night before that and the night before –”
“Morty, escort this brat out of here.” I turned to Kyle. “Mr. Binx, I suggest a rehabilitation of sorts. Less EDM more… how you say, alternative folk? Could be good for her soul.”
He swallowed, grabbing Paisley by the arm. She was still prattling on as Morty guided her out. “YOU WILL HEAR BACK FROM ME! I DON’T EVEN NEED RYDEN TO BE FAMOUS…”
Before Kyle could exit the room, I nicked his sweaty suit sleeve between my fingers. “Ms. Devora does not utter a word about Ryden or anyone in this room, unless she wants a career-destroying scandal that will make Ryden’s fuckups look like Oreos for breakfast.”
He nodded like a sheepish clown and exited the room. I kicked the door closed with the back of my heel, and leaned against the wall. “Oh, sorry. Was I meant to save that partnership, Tav?”
Mallory face palmed, grabbing her belongings before running out to presumably smoothen things over with Kyle and Paisley.
Morty hid a smile that tugged on my heart. Good Morty.
“Well that didn’t go accordin’ to plan, thanks Red.” Tav wiped the sweat off his brow. “The label brought her in cause she was an up and comin’ America’s Sweetheart, if you catch my drift.”
“And she was meant to what, tame Ryden? Make him look better than he is?”
“Not tame, maybe deflect,” Tav offered. “Shine the scope on new news, not what happened at Radio City.”
“She’s a fucking child,” I bit back.
“She’s a year younger than you folk, actually.”
“Ryden’s a rock star, rock-star, Tav. You know the meaning? R-O-C-K.”
“I know what you’re sayin’, Red.”
“Paisley is an EDM vocalist. Why the hell did the label bring her in? Nepotism?”
Tav sighed. “Jackson’s niece, CEO of Arc & Shield.”
“Well!” I clapped. “There you fucking have it! Once again, a terrible play from the higher ups!”
“But those headlines… anything’s better than an abuser.” Ryden shook his head. “You shouldn’t have done that, Scarlett.”
Scarlett. Not Dove, right. Scarlett.
“You didn’t even want to work with her, Ryden.” I crossed my arms. “You’ve said it far too many times to convince me otherwise.”
His eyes never strayed. “You will always get your way.”
Oh no. No you don’t. NOT today.
“And what way’s that?” I stepped forward, anger brewing. “Keeping you off socials because for once, once Ryden, you were actually kind of happy. All I’ve done, I’ve done to protect you. To help you. To –”
“Well maybe you should let me suffer,” he stood up, tall frame towering over mine.
My heart drummed in my chest as I stared into the predatory gaze of an Eagle. Lions and wolves battling against the bars, waiting for an opportunity to pounce.
The mimosas at midnight were forgotten.
The slow dancing in silk, kisses in the dark –
A momentary blip of peace for a lifetime of war.
I saw all the posts while he daydreamed. Turned off all his phone alerts when he wasn’t looking. That was the beauty of my managerial role in some ways. Ryden never really learned how to navigate social media. Even when we were kids.
I posted on the platforms.
I ran ads with Flack’s stolen credit cards.
I advertised his fame so the world could see how deserving he was of the success.
I knocked on those bar doors.
I rounded up the press. Me.
Ryden was surrounded by noise – his whole life was music and sounds and melodies – Mallory, Tav and I took care of the debriefing.
So when I asked him to keep his phone in a lock box for the duration of the holidays, he trusted me.
But I had a spare.
He didn’t.
Ryden was a fragile boy like a porcelain shell.
I could take the pain.
I could see the tabloids.
I could monitor the news.
He didn’t have the heart.
He didn’t need to see what those vultures were saying.
He deserved to be happy.
Just. This. Once.
And I –
… I let myself be happy too.
“I’ve seen you suffer enough” – the venom in my voice was inconsolable – “forgive me for growing tired of it.”
He blinked, green eyes blazing with fury.
Or maybe it was a mirror of my own.
“Alright, time out,” Tav jutted in between us, hands raised. “Morty, with me. Let ‘em blow off steam.”
“Morty’s my bodyguard, Tav.” Ryden crossed his arms.
“What now?” Tav laughed. “Scared of little Red?”
Ryden said nothing.
‘Thought so. Now I’ve got some pop star huntin’ to do while you sort your shit. I’ve got the studio booked for another three hours so wrap it up by then, will ya?”
Then they were gone.
We were alone.
And slowly, I slipped back into memory.