Bree #2
“I nixed the toast,” Nancy says, putting a plate on the round kitchen table. “I had a feeling you could use some protein. Bacon sandwich with tomato and avocado and plenty of red pepper flakes. Much more filling.”
She’s not wrong. Besides, it smells amazing.
I pop a strawberry in my mouth from the mound on my plate and take a seat while Benny pours a cup of juice for me, then I tuck into the sandwich.
I’m going for my third bite when I realize no one else is eating.
Benny is munching on a strip of crunchy bacon in the kitchen while he washes a pan, and Nancy is wiping down the white Formica counter.
Lowering the food, I watch them. Benny won’t meet my gaze, and Nancy is a woman on a mission.
“Just ask me,” I finally say. There’s no hiding now. I want to pull the monsters out of the closet and force them into the revealing sunlight. Maybe it’ll turn them to stone.
Benny circles the table and leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He says nothing, which is mildly disturbing and unfairly attractive. Dark hair falls over his forehead and his blue eyes are focused on me.
His grandma doesn’t bother remaining silent.
Nancy pulls out a chair opposite me, right in front of Benny. “Have you been on the social media today?” she asks, her tone serious.
“Nope.”
“None of the social medias?”
I crack a smile and take another bite of the sandwich. “I haven’t been on my phone at all in days.”
“Good.” She gives Benny a look, then swings her gaze back to me. “Stay off it.”
Why does that make me immediately want to open my phone and look everywhere I have followers? I shove the impulse away, glad my phone is in the other room. Assistants manage most of my accounts, so I’m curious what they’ve posted today. Would they post, not knowing where I am?
I lean back in my seat, looking between my self-appointed support team. Benny lays his full attention on me like no one and nothing else in the world is important right now. Nancy watches me like I’m a feral cat and she put out a bowl of milk.
“What’s going on?” I ask, looking between them, wanting to read their expressions at the same time. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
Nancy looks at Benny for a long moment as if she’s waiting for him to jump in. He doesn’t. She sighs. “I won’t lie to you, Bree. I’m disappointed.”
A tiny knife lodges between my ribs, twisting with her words.
Did I expect her to say she was fine with it?
That my surprise release single isn’t a big deal?
I ran away from the world because of how big of a deal it is.
I know my stupidity. I can’t be mad that she agrees with something I think myself.
“But everyone makes mistakes,” Nancy continues. “Yours is enormous, but I’ve never been one for cancel culture or jumping on bandwagons.”
Cancel culture? Bandwagons? The knife buries itself deeper, making it hard to breathe. “I’ve already been canceled?”
They exchange another glance. Enough with the knowing looks already. I can’t take it anymore.
Nancy grimaces. “I’m not sure. I hurried over here once I realized what was going on.”
I push the plate away, my appetite totally gone. That’s it. The phone ban is over. I need to look at the train wreck and assess the damage. No more blanket forts or blissful ignorance for me. I get up and head toward the bathroom where I stashed my phone when Ben steps in my path.
“Not a good idea,” he says.
I try to move him aside, but he’s rock solid. “I can’t bury my head in the sand. I need to know.”
“Give it a day, at least.”
I’m still gripping his arms, grateful for the solid feel of him.
“Your adamance only makes me need to know more.” I expected people to be upset, but this is…more. Canceled? That feels so huge, so final.
“Bree,” he says softly, looking down at me earnestly. “Trust me. You need to give it a day. Or five. Or fifty.”
I close my eyes. “Can you dig me a bunker? I think I need to disappear for real.”
“No,” Nancy says from the kitchen, “I think you need the opposite.”
“Grandma—”
“What do you do when you hurt someone, Benny?”
“Apologize?” he says over my head, like it’s a question.
“Exactly. Bree needs to make a very big, very public apology.”
“I can’t.” I drop my hands, spin to face her, and shake my head. “If I’m being canceled, no one will listen to me anyway.”
There’s a beat of silence before Nancy snaps her fingers and points at us. “That’s it! You need to apologize and make them listen to you.”
“Like an Instagram live?” I ask.
“No. Like a song, silly.”
“She has a contract, Grandma.”
I don’t tell him this, but that diss track let me out of my contract. It’s part of the reason I was so quick to move forward with it. I’m done with the label, a free agent, ready for my next thing. My wheels are spinning. “Like write an apology?”
“Your new single is mean, but it’s catchy. You know how to write, honey.”
“No one will produce it, though,” I argue. I’m the Comic Sans of fonts. The onion flavored jellybean. The thing everyone universally dislikes.
“Benny will do it,” Nancy offers.
His eyes widen, so I tear my gaze away before he can refuse me. “It wouldn’t work. I appreciate you both for checking on me, but I need to wallow for a few weeks, then go home. My mom’s publicist is probably already coming up with a plan to fix this. I need to give it time.”
Silence sits heavily in the room for a beat before Benny speaks. “Don’t you want to break away from the family business?”
“Well, yeah—”
“Then let’s do it.”
I stare at him, unblinking. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Benny Rhodes?”
“Yeah.” His piercing blue eyes hold me like a lifeline. “Let’s write a song.”