CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ROYCE
Ironically, the only two people talking and having a good time on the drive home are Derek and Sammy. And even with all of my own shit bringing me down, I don’t even hold their blissful ignorance against them. If Derek can steal himself a moment of actual happiness after the grief he’s suffered in the last few months, I’m all for it. I’ve certainly had my share of happy times recently, which probably means I’m long overdue for the impending dose of massive misery headed my way.
It doesn’t even matter that we rocked the EMAs, or that our performance is blowing up on social media sites everywhere. Nor does it make a damn difference that we walked away with three awards, including best song. Nothing is going to salvage this evening short of Hudson getting a sudden bout of amnesia and forgetting about the entire day. And I just don’t see that happening.
“You want to tell me what the fuck happened here tonight?” The door has barely shut behind me.
“I’m sorry. I know I should have told you I was going to go with Francis. But I mean, it was nothing. We just went as friends. You know that.” I’m so fucking lame. And spineless. How the hell I manage to stand upright at all, is a fucking mystery to me .
“Oh, do I know that? I mean, I would have thought that you were just friends if I hadn’t heard you suggest the exact opposite with my own fucking ears.” He’s yelling, but that isn’t the worst part. His voice cracked. He isn’t just pissed off. He’s hurt. Really, fucking hurt. And I’m the reason. I did that. And that fucking kills me like nothing else ever has.
I muster a step toward him, but he turns his back on me instantly.
“Hudson. What did you want me to do? Everyone else was taking a date. I couldn’t just show up at the fucking EMAs alone. This shit just doesn’t work that way.” I run my fingers through my hair multiple times trying to hide that my hands are shaking. Not that Hudson would notice anyway. Isn’t like he’s even looking at me.
“That’s bullshit, Royce. You’re not the first musician to ever settle down. You telling me Derek gets a fill-in date when Sammy can’t make it?” He’s busy digging around in his camera bag and I get the terrifying notion that he’s packing.
“Derek’s situation is different. Everyone knows he’s married,” I say flatly, too focused on trying to determine if he’s busy adding things to his bag or just re-organizing things in an attempt to stay distracted.
This time his head shoots up to face me. “Yeah. Exactly. Everyone knows.”
And we’re back to that. Fuck.
“I already told you. I can’t tell people I’m in a fucking relationship.”
He drops his bag on the bed. “Yeah, I remember. I just don’t buy it. What would be the big deal in just announcing that you were with someone? ”
“The big deal is that people would want to know who I was with. The media would start digging. And I can’t risk anyone finding out it’s...you.” Now it’s my turn to look away. Thing is, no matter how much Hudson has to hate me in this moment, it’s nothing compared to how much I hate myself.
“Right.” His tone is quiet. Almost inaudible. “Because that would upset Ava, right?”
And even though I know he hardly even believes that anymore, I jump on it like a drowning man leaping onto a sinking raft.
“It would. Why the hell do you think she made Francis pretend to be my girlfriend tonight?!” It’s a good thing I already can’t stand myself, because I fucking hate liars.
“You’re telling me that Ava arranged the whole thing? That she insisted you put on this whole show tonight and wouldn’t just let you go alone?”
“Yes!” I have no clue where my complete conviction is coming from, except that maybe it’s a surge of severely misguided desperation.
“Well, in that case, you’re both assholes.” He picks up his bag again and then opens the closet to retrieve his duffle bag containing his clothes.
“Where are you going?” I take a step out to block the doorway.
“I don’t know yet, but there’s no fucking way I’m staying here. I’ve never spent a single day of my life in the closet, Royce. I’m not about to let you shove me into one now. You want to stay inside, cool, stay there. I get it. It’s safe. Being openly gay has cost me shit. So, I really, really get it. Thing is, I can’t let everything I’ve sacrificed and endured over the years be for nothing now.”
He brushes past me and reaches for the door handle. I catch his hand just as he’s turning it.
“Hudson.”
“I’m sorry, Royce. I get that you feel like you have to do this. I just can’t.”
I have nothing. No response short of dropping to my knees and literally begging, which I would do if I thought it would make a damn difference. Only I know that it won’t. Hudson isn’t just mad at me. He’s done with me.
HUDSON
I have no fucking clue where I’m headed with all of my shit in hand. Truth is, I’m not likely to get further than the couch. After all, I’m still under contract. And that contract clearly states that I have to be stuck like motherfucking glue to Finding Nolan for the remainder of their tour, which means another two weeks before I’ll be able to truly walk away from Royce. And it remains to be seen if that’s something I’m really capable of doing.
Making a dramatic exit in the heat of an argument is considerably less risky when you know damn well you can’t go but ten feet outside of the room before your legal obligations force you to stop again.
Unfortunately, I’m way too wrapped up in my own funnel of thoughts to realize I’m not alone in the room. No. Ava is here, too. Of all the people staying in this fucking suite, she’s the last one I want to see at the moment.
She looks over at me over the rim of a large mug. How that chick is able to drink coffee at all hours of the day and night and still manages to sleep blows my fucking mind. Then again, maybe she isn’t sleeping. The way she runs around the damn place like the goddamn energizer bunny organizing every aspect of everyone’s life probably doesn’t leave her any time to catch too many Zs.
“I heard you two fighting. Are you okay?” she asks quietly.
“No. No, I’m not.” I shake my head and start toward the couch, my originally intended target.
“Is there anything I can do? I know tonight had to have been really rough on you. I’ve got coffee, brownies and Nutella. I don’t know if you know, but those three things combined together fix damn near anything.” She attempts a smile.
I want to scream. How the hell is she acting like she can erase what she’s done to me and to Royce by offering me a fucking pastry?
“No, Avalon. Shocker as is it may be to you, none of those stupid things are going to fix this.”
Her face falters from the harshness of my tone and she seems genuinely hurt. And surprised.
“I’m sorry. I was just...That’s what I do with my friends when one of us is hurt. We eat brownies and drink coffee. It’s stupid. But it’s what we do.” She shrugs helplessly.
I yank a blanket from the recliner and spread it out over the couch. “Yeah, well. I’m not your friend, Ava.”
She frowns. “You’re not? ”
I plop down like I’m claiming the fucking place. “No. I just work for you. In more ways than one, I realize now.”
Ava comes closer. “What are you talking about?”
“Remember that self-righteous little speech you gave me the night you offered me this job? Because I do. Man, you really had me eating up every last bit of that bullshit. Don’t I feel stupid now?!”
Her brow knits, crinkling her forehead and I can’t tell if she’s mad or confused. It’s entirely possible she isn’t sure either.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about how you swore up and down you were the band manager and not their fucking pimp. Imagine my surprise when I find out that apparently the two go hand in hand after all and you really did hire me to fuck your bass player. I mean, it all makes perfect sense, now.”
And the confusion is gone. Ava is definitely mad. Furious is probably more like it. “Excuse me? Well, you better keep talking until this starts making some fucking sense to me, Kieran Hudson.”
“Really? You’re going with denial? That’s fine. I’ll spell it out for you. Royce told me,” I spread out my arms dramatically, “e-ve-ry-thing. How you won’t let him come out publicly because you think it will hurt the band’s image. How you make him go to some pretty extreme lengths to properly portray a womanizing heterosexual. Including that little stunt you pulled tonight, making Francis pretend to be his girlfriend. So, yeah, it all makes sense now. You want Royce to keep acting straight, you gotta keep him happy, and what better way to do that than to hire him a little piece of ass for the road?! ”
Ava just stares at me. For a really long fucking time. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t shout. Doesn’t physically attack me. She doesn’t even bother to give me the finger, and I have a shit ton of pictures which indicate just how much she enjoys doing that.
There’s nothing. The longer it goes on, the less I’m sure if she’s even angry anymore.
I’m about to pull the blanket over my head in a toddler move to block her out when she finally exhales loudly. “I’m really sorry. That’s not exactly what happened here, but I understand why you would see it that way. And I know how hurt you feel because of it all, so I truly do apologize. Hurting you was never my intention.”
“Oh please, Ava. What the fuck would you know about how tonight made me feel? Huh?”
For a moment I think she might actually cry. “More than you could possibly imagine.”
Then, she turns and walks away without saying anything else.
I watch until I see her disappear in her own room. Then, I’m alone. And it sucks.
At first all I want to do is just sleep. Sleep and forget. Except my brain is so fucking wired from the overflow of new information in need of being analyzed that sleep is completely out of the question.
So, in an attempt to counteract all of the overstimulation happening in my mind, I seek out something to dull it all. An hour and a half of channel surfing through some of the most mind-numbing television I’ve ever encountered and I’m no closer to finding my escape .
Running out of options, I cave and do the one thing I told myself I wouldn’t do no matter what. I call my mother.
She answers after only one ring.
“Kier? What’s wrong, baby?”
I sigh. “Why would anything be wrong, Ma?”
“It’s five o’clock in the morning where you are.”
Oh. Right.
“I’m just not sure going on tour with Finding Nolan was such a great idea after all.” I have no idea why I’m being so vague with her. I need her and yet, the last thing I want is to burden her with my hurt. I’ve burdened her with plenty of her own over the years.
“Has something happened between you and Royce? Did you have a fight?”
I nod. It doesn’t matter that she can’t see it. She’ll know. She always knows.
“Kieran, honey, I’m sure whatever it was, you two will work it out. You’ve made each other so happy in such a short amount of time.”
“I know, Ma. But this is different. This is...” my voice breaks off and I barely manage to choke out the last word as the pain breaks free and takes me down with it, “heartbroken.”